“What’s going on?” he asked, turning back to Ludwig once she was out of the room.
Ludwig sighed then took a long drag of his cigar. “I need to fill you in on something about our troublesome Douglas Hatcher.”
“Something Lottey can’t hear?” he said.
Ludwig looked at the door where Bridgette just disappeared. “I’m not sure if she should know,” he admitted. “To be honest, I’ve been fighting with that decision since the day you brought her to me.”
“Why?”
Ludwig looked at him. “Because I’ve already disrupted her adult life, I don’t want to ruin her childhood too.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
What did he have to do to get competent people working for him? Obviously these men were idiots. It didn’t take long to get the report back that the three men Douglas had sent out to retrieve Bridgette not only failed in getting her, but also ended up getting themselves killed, all save one. Douglas had no doubt Ludwig would be questioning the survivor on why they had tried to kidnap his Weapon X.
Douglas walked to the window, staring out at the empty streets of the upper section. They were hiding right under Ludwig Tennebris’ nose, and he didn’t even know it. The air was starting to get gradually cooler, fall just around the corner. Getting the upper hand on the New World leader was taking longer than he’d like. It was time to put things in motion, but to do so with confidence he wanted both daughters by his side. Especially now that he realized Bridgette was far more talented than he’d thought all these years.
The other soldiers weren’t coming along as nicely. He wasn’t sure why. Some of the other scientists suggested perhaps it was a gender thing. Douglas threw that idea around in his brain for a while. It could make sense, he reasoned. The testosterone levels could be affecting the treatments, possibly accounting for the high levels of aggression. He wasn’t quite sure though. A few more test subjects would confirm it.
His daughters, however, both showed signs that the treatments did what they were supposed to do. He just needed them back in his hands so he could run a few tests. He slammed a hand against the glass, rattling it. He’d had them both and let them slip through his fingers. If only he hadn’t sent Bridgette to the NWO headquarters with that foolish plan to bomb it. What had he been thinking?
“Sir?”
Douglas turned to look at John. “Anything?”
John shook his head. “Not a word. We have no idea who set up those explosives. We’re pretty positive it couldn’t have been McKay and the others. They wouldn’t have access to the materials that were used, especially not so soon.”
He’d already come to that conclusion, but he didn’t comment. He needed to take the men that had left with Pete McKay out of the equation, and fast. There was no room on the board for more players. Which begged the question – who had bombed the warehouse? Perhaps it had been the group from the western ghetto. He doubted it though. They hardly did a thing. He liked to think of them as a group of children, pretending to be rebels for show. There was no real threat there.
“Leave the bombing for now,” Douglas told him. “We need to double our efforts to get Bridgette back. Start preparing another team.”
“Yes, General.”
His daughter could try and hide behind the NWO all she wanted, but it wouldn’t keep him away for long. He would have her back, and her little sister, and then they would see how truly brilliant their father was. It was only a matter of time.
Bridgette moaned into her pillow. Every muscle, every limb, every hair on her body ached. How was she supposed to get out of bed? Pulling the covers up under her chin, she decided she just wouldn’t. Weapon X was allowed to have a day off, wasn’t she? Surely being tossed around in a van the day before was reason enough to lie in bed all day.
A soft knock came at her door. With a loud groan, she pulled herself out of bed and hobbled toward it. Roman stood outside, a wry grin lifting one side of his mouth.
“Sore?” he asked.
Bridgette blinked a few times, ordering her mind to get a hold of itself. Just seeing him had sent her thoughts spiralling. He looked so good in the morning light. His hair was tied back from his face, those deep blue eyes watching her knowingly. She kept her gaze away from his mouth, especially now that she knew what that mouth felt like against hers.
His eyebrows rose. Right, he asked a question. “Sore doesn’t begin to describe it,” Bridgette answered, dragging her body back to bed. She fell face down on it, her cries of pain muffled by her pillow. She could hear him chuckling as he closed the door behind him. The click of the latch sounded ominous inside the small confines of the room, locking them inside together. Her heart picked up speed.
“I brought something to help,” he said. Bridgette turned her head slightly, peeking at him with one eye. He smiled, a wide, genuine smile that had her heart stopping now. Why, oh why, did he have to be so good looking? She wanted to curse whatever mortals brought him into this world. It was a lot harder to stick to the plan she’d decided on last night of keeping her distance when she had him smiling playfully at her like he was now.
“What is it?” she asked. She didn’t think he understood her, since her mouth was currently crushed against thousands of feathers, but his smile grew wider at her curiosity, so he must have.
“Some balm that will help loosen up those sore muscles,” he said. “Trust me, this stuff is like magic.”
She turned so she was facing him fully. “You know that for a fact? Been tossed around a lot of vans in your lifetime, have you, Roman?”
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised.” He walked forward, the bed dipping toward him as he sat on the edge. Bridgette leaned her weight back so she wouldn’t roll against him.
“What hurts the most?”
She sighed. “Everything.”
He laughed again. “Okay, roll onto your stomach.”
She hesitated for only a second before complying. Her body stiffened as his hands went to lift her shirt at the back, exposing her skin. He pushed it up past her shoulders, pausing there until she lifted herself up onto her elbows, and let him pull the material over her head. She flattened back down onto the bed, every nerve in her body anticipating his touch. This cannot happen, she reminded herself. Her mind seemed to know that, but her body apparently had other ideas.
The metal of the tin he carried pinged loudly in the quiet between them as he unscrewed the lid. When his hands finally began to massage the ointment into her skin she almost moaned out loud. Biting the sides of her cheeks to stop herself from doing just that, she closed her eyes, focusing on every moment he made. His fingertips skirted along the edge of her torso, just missing the sides of her breasts. He was gentle in his ministrations as he coated every area with the stinky balm. She didn’t mind the smell. The heat from the balm and his hands was exactly what she needed right then. It was as if he knew exactly where she needed it the most.
Then his hands were gone, until she felt him pulling the blankets off her bottom half, and begin pushing up her loose pant legs. She didn’t make a sound, too entranced by everything he was doing.
“We need to talk,” he finally said in a husky voice, breaking their silence.
“I know,” she said softly.
He was silent for another moment, his hands massaging their way up the back of her thighs. “Do you know where your sister is?”
Not what she thought he’d start off with. Bridgette shook her head. “The last time I saw her, she was tied up to a chair, beaten.”
Roman stopped. “What?” he practically growled.
Bridgette lifted her head, looking over her shoulder at him. “That’s why I’m here. My father had Charlotte, threatened to hurt her if I didn’t come here and pretend to be Weapon X.”
“And he still has her?” he asked, his eyes wide in horror.
“Actually, I just found out she escaped. I don’t know where to though. I just know she’s with friends of mine.”
Roman grunted,
his hands going back to work as he looked down at what he was doing, away from her eyes. Bridgette rested her head back down. “Friends, huh? Would that be chatty Cathy?”
Laughter bubbled up and out of her throat. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I’m suspecting you mean McKay?”
“The one who never shuts up?” She could hear a smile in his voice.
She chuckled. “That’s definitely him. And yes, she’s with him. They’re – together. I think.”
He was silent after that, his focus switching to the other side.
“Does that upset you?” she asked, the question bursting from her even though she didn’t really want to hear the answer. Was he jealous? Did he have those kinds of feelings for her sister? The thought made her sick, especially after what had happened between them last night.
His hands paused behind her knee. She was too chicken to look back and face him – too scared to see what might be in his eyes.
“Not for the reason you might be thinking,” he said. A wave of relief washed over her. “I just don’t trust the guy. It makes me nervous that he’s the one looking after her now.”
“I’ve known McKay for most of my life and you have nothing to worry about. Plus, Charlotte takes care of herself just fine.”
He chuckled. “That’s true.” His hands left hers and she felt him move up the bed until his hips were in line with hers. He gently took her arm, massaging the inside of her wrist and moving up slowly. Bridgette held her breath. “So you were sent here to save your sister, and do what?”
This was the part she didn’t want to discuss. Closing her eyes, she wondered what he was going to do when he learned about the bomb. Tell Ludwig? Kill her himself? No, he wouldn’t hurt her, she argued. He was the one who said he’d help her get back to Charlotte. She could trust him. At least, she hoped she could. She explained the bomb to him, and what her father had instructed her to do. Surprisingly he didn’t stop his movements once as she spoke.
“Did you plant it?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Where is it?”
“In that duffle bag against the wall.”
She sensed him look to where she indicated before getting up and moving around to her other side, picking up her right arm and showing it the same attention as the left.
“I’ll get rid of it. You shouldn’t have something so dangerous, especially since you don’t know anything about explosives.”
Bridgette snorted. “I doubt my father would care if I accidentally blew myself up.”
Roman grunted. “I’m not so sure about that. Obviously, if yesterday was any indication, he wants you out of here and back to wherever he is. You wouldn’t happen to know where he’s hiding, would you?”
“Not a clue,” she replied. She turned her head so she could see him, meeting his gaze. “Honestly. I have no idea where he’d go.”
“I believe you.”
And he did, that’s the part that blew her away. She could see it in the way he looked at her. What had she done to earn this man’s trust?
“I’ll put some feelers out; try to narrow down where Charlotte might have gone. In the meantime, we’ll try to keep you away from anything that might be dangerous.”
Bridgette watched him as he massaged the sensitive spot on the inside of her elbow. Goose bumps rose along her skin. Their eyes met, his hands stilling.
“I don’t need you to baby me, Roman,” she said, her voice lowered. “I’ve been doing just fine so far. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this plan.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched in anger. “I’m not babying you,” he said. “I’m also not going to just sit back and watch you put yourself in harm’s way. Charlotte had years to get used to this way of life. You haven’t. You’ll stay in your room as much as possible. I’ll tell Ludwig you have to take it easy for a little while.”
She scoffed. “I don’t need you lying for me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s false. I’m already lying for you.”
They stared at one another. “Why?” she asked. “Why protect me over someone you’ve promised your loyalty to?”
His eyes roamed her face as he considered her question. “Loyalty given in ignorance sometimes doesn’t hold true down the line.”
“What do you mean?”
Roman sat back, running a hand over his face.
“Do you not feel loyalty toward Ludwig anymore?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, I know what he’s done is bad, and I’m in no way innocent in all this. I’ve done just as much harm as he.” He looked up at the ceiling then down to her, his eyes pleading for understanding. “It’s just, I can see that what we do is wrong. I get it. I don’t think he does. And when he asked me to join his army, I wasn’t in a position to walk away from what he was offering me. I had no idea how things would turn out. Or at least, not fully. The constant fighting…I don’t think this is what I would have wanted for myself if I had known ahead of time.”
“Would you have joined him, knowing what you know now?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Ludwig isn’t a bad man, don’t get me wrong. There are many things about him that I still admire, even now. He’s just – misguided. His childhood was a lot different than most people. His father molded him from the day he was born. I don’t think he ever had a choice to become anything different than what he is now.”
Bridgette rested her cheek on her hand, propping her head up. “I can tell he really cares for my sister.”
“He does,” he said, nodding.
“He’s such a strange man to understand. I want to hate him, and yet when I speak with him, he seems so normal. I can understand why you’d come to like him.”
“Can you?”
“In a way, yes. It doesn’t excuse what he’s done, or what you’ve helped him do.”
His face fell. He glanced away quickly but she caught the look of disappointment in his eyes.
“I’ve done so many horrible things – you have no idea,” he said softly.
“I’m sure I can imagine.”
He looked back at her. “Can you?”
She didn’t know if she could answer that, because truthfully maybe she couldn’t imagine. What did she know of warfare?
“Turn over,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. She looked up at him in surprise. He held out the balm, waiting.
Pulling her arms out of the sleeves, she kept the shirt securely against her chest as she rolled onto her back, wincing at the pain of just that simple movement.
“You’re going to feel even worse tomorrow,” he said with a grin.
“I don’t even want to think about it,” she complained.
Roman walked back around to her other side, sitting down near her legs. He rolled up the pants again, massaging the front of her thighs and calves. Bridgette watched him, his eyes concentrated on what he was doing. Her skin tingled from the heat of his, goose bumps rising again. He met her eyes, his expression conflicted.
“We can’t do this,” he said so softly she almost missed it.
“Do what?” she asked, matching his tone. She knew what he meant, but she needed to hear him say it so she knew they were both on the same page. Clearly he’d come to the same conclusion as she had last night after their brief encounter in the bathroom.
“This,” he said, motioning between them. His hands skirted up further on her thigh making her breath catch. “I’m no good for you, Bridgette. If you only knew…” He shook his head. “You’d hate me if you knew all the things I’ve done.”
He stood up, his eyes sad now, a frown marring his perfect mouth. She wanted to say something to make him feel better, but she couldn’t find the right words. There was so much she didn’t know about him, it would be silly to argue with his statement. Perhaps he had done things she could never overlook. The possibility was high. Deep in her bones she felt like there was nothing he could do that would ever make her tru
ly hate him, she’d seen too much of who he really was to just turn her back on him. And yet, what did she know? Everything between them was just too confusing, which was why it was better if they didn’t cross the line into intimacy again.
Roman bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead before straightening and walking toward the door. He paused there, looking at her, his shoulder slumped more than they’d been when he first arrived. Her heart hurt just looking at him, but still she said nothing.
“Rest up today,” he said. “I’ll send a doctor up to make sure there’s nothing broken.”
All she managed was a nod before he turned and left her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Good news!” Phoenix shouted, her red lips pulled into a smile.
Charlotte looked up from her plate of bacon and eggs, which was the best thing she’d eaten in a while. Phoenix’s sister Missy was an amazing cook. By the time they left here, Charlotte was bound to be a good twenty pounds heavier. Pete sat back in his chair beside her, draping his arm along the back of her chair, his hand idly playing with a strand of her hair.
Everyone waited for her to continue. Instead, Phoenix walked over and grabbed a plate, loading it up with food. She sat down beside Seamus, digging in.
“Uh, care to expand on that statement there, Princess?” Trent said.
She looked up with a surprised expression, as if she had no idea why everyone was staring at her. “Oh, yeah,” she said, smiling around a mouthful of food.
“Jesus, she’s as spacey as Garrett,” Seamus murmured.
“I take offence to that,” Garret said, throwing his toast crust at him.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. It took forever to get to the point with this group. They were worse than a bunch of children. “What’s the good news, Phoenix?” she asked.
She looked at Charlotte, her eyes bright with excitement. “I just got some information from the NWO headquarters,” she said. “Looks like your sister was retrieved before those assholes in the van could take her back to your father. She’s at headquarters now.”
02 Masked-New World Page 14
