02 Masked-New World
Page 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They got word of Roman’s absence a week later. Phoenix, the leader of the group the Archers, Bridgette was told, had gone out one day to return with the news a short while later. All eyes had gone to Bridgette when she had made the announcement.
As soon as the words hit, Bridgette had felt like the floor beneath her had opened up. A sinking feeling in her stomach came right before tears burned her eyes. Charlotte had appeared beside her instantly, her touch soothing against her back.
After that, Bridgette had retreated to her room to mourn the loss of someone who had come to mean more to her than she had ever expected. There was no funeral, as far as they knew, only a whisper through the streets of his disappearance. They all knew he was dead, however. Bridgette couldn’t help but wonder if he had bled out in the streets right where she had left him. He had died alone, a fact that only intensified the sickening feeling in her gut.
No one seemed particularly upset about the news, only aware what it would mean to Bridgette. She guessed that despite being confused herself about her feelings toward the late second in command of the New World army, everyone else seemed to have already decided on her attachment.
There was no denying it anymore, not after the way her heart felt like it was broken the more days that went by after hearing the news for the first time. It wasn’t getting any easier. The more time passed, the more Bridgette wished she had stayed with him. He might have killed her mother, a mother that had very likely known of their father’s actions against her children, but he was also the one who had taken care of her little sister. And her, she thought. He had gone out of his way to keep her safe while she was disguised as Weapon X.
Some might have described Roman Adamson as a heartless brute, but Bridgette knew better. He was so much more than how the world perceived him, and now he was gone. Charlotte said Ludwig wouldn’t hold a funeral, most likely so Roman’s death wouldn’t actually be confirmed. It would be bad for moral, she’d said. To have someone as powerful as Roman be taken down by the rebels would have only given people a sense of justice, and Ludwig wouldn’t want that.
The sky outside was its usual grey, an accurate representation of her mood. She needed to get out of the house, get some fresh air and some space away from all the people stuffed inside the house. No one went out now that Ludwig and Douglas had seen them all. An increased presence of soldiers appeared in the western ghetto, no doubt looking for them. Bridgette didn’t doubt her father’s men were also out there, searching. So far only Phoenix had ventured out, after a heated debate, only to return soon after with the fateful news. Since then, everyone had stayed indoors.
Bridgette couldn’t handle the feeling of suffocation within walls surrounding her anymore. She wanted to walk, run, anything other than just sitting there mourning night and day. She stared longingly out of her window, the empty, rundown streets outside no longer depressing, but appealing. How would she convince the rest of the group to let her leave? Any ideas eluded her. Both Charlotte and McKay were extremely stubborn and protective.
A shadowed figure appeared in the alley just diagonal from the house. Bridgette wouldn’t normally have noticed, except for the fact that literally no one ever came down this street. She wasn’t sure where they were, unfamiliar with the western ghetto, but for some reason this street was always deserted.
Her eyes locked on the figure, their face and head hidden beneath a large hood. Whoever it was, they were male, she could tell that much. They had wide shoulders beneath the black coat they wore, a completely masculine stature. She watched them closely, wondering what they were doing, but the figure only stood there, their face turned in the house’s direction.
Then their head lifted slightly, and Bridgette instantly sucked in a breath. She still couldn’t see who it was, but somehow she knew they were looking right at her through the window. She wanted to dive to the floor, but it was already too late. Whoever it was, they had seen her clearly behind the glass.
Bridgette stared back, a tingling sensation running up her spine as she locked eyes with the faceless intruder. Should she alert someone? Probably, she thought. This person was most likely a spy for her father, and now they would know where they were hiding. But she found she couldn’t move, frozen in some sort of spell. The only thing that broke it was when the man retreated back into the shadows, disappearing from her view.
She waited there. How long? She wasn’t sure. Bridgette sat in her window, waiting to see if he would appear again, perhaps with more men, but he never did. Nor did anyone else. When she finally went down for dinner, eating in silence as she had for the past few days, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell the others about what she had seen that afternoon and yet she kept it to herself. It was a stupid thing, that. Her better sense said that this would be important information to share, especially if the person had gone to get back-up. For whatever reason, though, she didn’t say a word, keeping the knowledge to herself as she lay down to sleep later that evening.
Her eyes closed, the stranger waiting on the other side to haunt her dreams.
She sat up, her heart racing. Darkness covered the tiny room, save for a sliver of bluish light from the moon. Bridgette breathed in deeply, trying to calm her rapid pulse. What had happened? Had she had a bad dream? She pulled at the covers, now pooled around her hips, covering her upper body against the chill in the room. Why was it so damn cold?
She slowly looked to the window, the swift beating of heart coming to a complete stop as all breath left her. The window was open. It was only a tiny gap, but she knew for a fact she never opened the window. Unease crept along her spine, the tiny hairs on her arms rising. Her eyes couldn’t discern anything in the dark, but her senses told her she wasn’t alone anymore.
“Who’s there?” she whispered in a shaky voice. There was no answer, only the usual creaks and groans of the old house settling in. Her imagination was getting away with her. Sliding her legs out from beneath the covers, Bridgette climbed out of bed, walking cautiously toward the window. The street was as it always was, empty. Nothing untoward to be seen. Bridgette pulled on the pane, clicking the latch back into place.
The wind howled by outside, rattling the frame. Could it have simply pushed the window open? Bridgette considered the old structure in front of her, and thought it might be possible. These buildings were so old and damaged, she was amazed anything still worked in them.
Deciding that must be it, she let out a soft breath, her pulse finally calming. She rubbed at her hands, the cold air finally seeping into her bones as she stood barefoot, dressed only in a thin, white nightgown Missy had lent her.
She had just started to turn when a hand clamped over her mouth. She sucked in a breath to scream, the scent of leather from the person’s gloves filling her nostrils, but it was useless. Any sound she made was muffled beneath the weight over her lips.
“Easy,” came the deep voice of her assailant. It was as though a switch had been flicked. One minute her body was rigid with fear, the next it was melting into the hard wall of muscle behind her. She knew that voice. She thought she’d never hear it again. He must of sensed her relax because his hold instantly eased, the hand over her mouth disappearing.
Bridgette spun around, her arms flinging up and around his neck. Roman’s arms wrapped around her waist, crushing her against him. He buried his face into her hair as she snuggled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
One of his hands stroked her back as he shushed her. They stood like that for what felt like hours, until she leaned back to look at him. He was the stranger from earlier. She wondered if somehow her heart had recognized him immediately, even without having seen his face. She let one of her hands stroke across his jaw, the stubble scratching at her palms.
Without any words, for none mattered right then, she cupped the back of his head, letting his long strands glide like
silk through her fingers, and pulled his mouth toward hers. She sensed him stiffen momentarily, before growling low in his throat. His arms tightened further as he took over the kiss, his tongue and lips branding her as his. The kiss was all-consuming, desperate, demanding, everything she could ever want in a kiss.
Her feet were lifted off the floor, something she only slightly registered at the back of her mind, her thoughts already too clouded by his touch, the feel of him against her. He walked them back to her bed, lowering her gently onto the mattress, his own body following. Bridgette sighed into his mouth at the weight of him above her.
The kiss never lost its intensity as they both scrambled to remove each other’s clothing. They both hissed as their bare skin met, hers hot from being asleep, his cold from being outside. Roman maneuvered them until he had the thick blankets cover their nakedness, not that she even cared about the cold now. Her blood was boiling, singing out to him like it recognized its mate.
Bridgette widened her legs to accommodate his hips, his silky hardness rubbing against her inner thigh. He tore his lips away from her, despite her protest, to suck one of her pebbled nipples into his mouth. She moaned loudly at the incredible sensation, sparks of a deep hunger shooting to her core. She squirmed beneath him, silently begging for him to take her.
He moved to her other nipple, the cold air now hitting the wet, forgotten one only adding to the wonders assaulting her body. When he let go with a loud popping sound, she barely had time to breath before his tongue was back in her mouth, tangling with her own. She felt him position himself a second before ramming into her in one hard thrust.
They both cried out against each other’s lips. Roman stilled, letting her grow accustom to his size, before starting a slow, torturous rhythm that had her clawing at his back. Just when she thought she couldn’t take more, he sped up, every thrust hard and deep. Her climax hit her without warning. Not wanting to wake anyone up, she turned her face into his shoulder, biting him as she rode out the strongest orgasm she’d ever had. He followed not long after, crying out her name into the pillow beneath her head.
The two of them lay like that in silence, their skin sticky with sweat. Bridgette doubted she could speak right then anyway, her mind completely blown. Finally he raised his head to look down at her, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth, but she could see some hesitation in his eyes.
“Hi,” he said softly.
Bridgette chuckled. “Hello.”
“I missed you.”
Tears instantly formed in her eyes.
“Don’t do that,” he said, gently wiping his thumb beneath her eye.
“I thought…”
“I know,” he said.
“Where have you been?”
He smiled wearily. “Hiding.”
“From Ludwig?” she asked, brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes.
Roman rolled off her, pulling her with him so she was tucked against his body, her cheek resting against his chest.
“He gave me the choice to leave,” he told her. “But I’m not an idiot. I figured he’d give me a head start, for old time’s sake, but there was no way he was just going to let me walk away.”
“Did he send people after you?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think he actually did, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”
She propped herself up. “Why didn’t you come here?”
That same hesitation was in his eyes again, and she understood that he wasn’t sure if he would have been welcome. He still wasn’t, she realized.
“Well, for one thing I didn’t want to lead him here if he had anyone following me. Plus I was still recovering, so I wanted to wait a bit. And…” He shrugged.
“You didn’t think I’d want to see you.”
“I wasn’t sure,” he said, confirming her suspicions.
She took a deep breath. “I’m not going to say I forgive you for what you did, because I don’t think I can. She was my mother, even though I don’t think she acted much like it most of the time. Especially knowing now about my dad’s treatments,” she said bitterly. “That being said, I can honestly say that I’ve never felt as broken as I did when I thought you were dead. It made me realize how much I care for you, Roman. I’m willing to move on, if you are.”
“You would do that? Forget what I did, and be with me?”
The shock on his face broke her heart. “I know what a good man you are. That’s all that matters to me.”
He let out a deep breath. “I tried to stay away from you,” he admitted. “I convinced myself it was better that way. I figured I’d only bring you more heartache. But I couldn’t. Once I found out where you were, I just had to see you.” He traced the lines of her face, the pad of his thumb gliding over her bottom lip. “You’ve got me completely at your mercy. My heart, my body, my spirit belongs to you now.”
She smiled through the tears in her eyes, the first happy ones she’d cried in a long time. They kissed, a sweeter kiss this time that spoke of their love and happiness at being together again. She wrapped her leg around him, welcoming him into her body again as they moved at a slower, less frantic pace. Later she fell asleep in his arms, at peace for what felt like the first time in her entire life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Bridgette could hear voices as they made their way downstairs.
“Where’s breakfast?” she heard Garrett ask.
“Missy went out to get some more supplies,” one of the girls answered. Bridgette wasn’t familiar enough with them to tell their voices apart.
“Where’s Tyler?” asked Trent.
“No idea,” Garrett answered.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Seamus said the second Bridgette and Roman walked into the tiny kitchen. Everyone’s stunned expressions followed them closely as they made their way into the room.
Bridgette opened her mouth to say something; what – she wasn’t sure, but some sort of explanation was needed. Before she could get a word out, however, a small bundle flew by her and into Roman, throwing him back a step. Charlotte hugged him tightly, her face hidden in his chest. The top of her head didn’t even reach his chin. Bridgette laughed inwardly at how childlike she looked compared to him.
“Great,” Seamus said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Now what? We’re all supposed to be happy he’s alive?”
“Easy, mate,” McKay said, his eyes never leaving Roman and his girlfriend.
“How is he even here?” Phoenix asked, looking about as confused as the rest of the Archers.
“How’d you find us, muscles?” Sam said next, standing up to walk over to him. Charlotte had yet to release him from her bear hug.
“I grew up on the streets,” he replied, as if that explained everything.
“Do you want a cookie?” Sam said dryly.
Bridgette saw Roman bite back a smile as he regarded the tough girl. “I’m very good at being invisible,” he said, turning to look at Phoenix, “and extremely good at tailing people. Especially when those people are easy to spot in a crowd.”
Phoenix sat up straighter, sending him a wink.
“He means your god awful hair,” Trent said through clenched teeth.
She deflated a bit, giving Trent a hard look. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with my hair.” Trent just rolled his eyes.
“Look,” Bridgette said, getting everyone’s attention. “I know how hard this is for everyone to accept. And if you can’t then we’ll leave, I have no problem with that.”
Roman and Charlotte both turned to look at her simultaneously, their mouths opening to protest. She held up a hand for them to stay quiet.
“I’d like to stay with you all and figure out what our next step is, but I’m not making him leave. Roman has left Ludwig’s services.”
“How can we trust his word?” Lake asked, her serious eyes taking them in.
“I wouldn’t lie to Bridgette,” Roman replied instantly.
Roman’s eyes went to him and Seamus. “I can’t take back what I did, I can only swear that I will help you moving forward, and will prove my loyalty.”
“Just like that?” Trent said, snapping his fingers. “One day you’re Ludwig’s go-to boy, and now all of a sudden you’re ready and willing to fight for the rebellion?”
Charlotte spun around, her eyes hard. “Did I not do the same thing? None of you gave me a hard time about it.”
“You proved yourself long before that,” Garrett argued. “And you didn’t have one of us beaten almost to death.”
“He’s proven himself too,” Charlotte shot back.
“How do you figure?” asked Seamus.
“He knew about Bridgette and kept her safe. Is that not proof enough?”
“He also lied to me about you, and almost made me kill you,” McKay pointed out.
Charlotte huffed in anger. “That’s all in the past,” she said. “People can change.”
“Calm down everyone,” Michael said, walking into the room. Instantly the tension in the air seemed to lighten with the appearance of the elder McKay.
“I understand I’ve done a lot,” Roman said calmly, “to some of you personally, and in general. But I’m trying to choose the right path this time, to do something that will help people. I’m not asking for your trust outright, but I’m willing to give you something as a show of faith that perhaps, somewhere down the road, we can all work together as one unit.”