Fragmentary

by LeAnn Mason

Holden's softly delivered question brought me back to the very real situation I'd put myself in, one that could easily blow up in my face. My eyes found the floor utterly fascinating at this point, my hands picking nervously at the imagined dirt on the exam table. I shrugged but didn't answer, didn't lift my eyes from where they now focused on his boots. I love his boots.

  The boot-clad legs shuffled closer, the mind they were attached to still whirling, processing. There was confusion and disbelief mixed with a little hurt that I'd not confided in him, but eventually… awe won out.

  A rough finger slipped beneath my chin and lifted, making me look into eyes that once again blazed silver with concern. As our eyes met, I sighed with relief. Liquid mercury was fading to piercing blue. Both colors were gorgeous and intense, but I liked the blue better; it meant he wasn't worrying about me.

  Another step and Holden was wrapped around me like I was a long lost toy that’d just resurfaced. He pulled back only far enough that his eyes once again held me hostage. Did you not trust me?

  I pursed my lips to keep them from trembling. How did I tell my boyfriend that, no, in fact, I hadn't trusted him with that part of myself?

  Holden smoothed my wayward hair away from my face and cupped my cheek. The heat of his hand somehow comforting. I understand. I wish it were different, but… I understand.

  “No.”

  No? His brows slammed down, a complete look of bewilderment taking over his gorgeous features bringing me close to laughter.

  “No. You’re supposed to be mad at me. I-I kept this huge thing about me hidden.”

  You did, but it's not my place—

  I cut off his calm and rational explanation, of how my keeping this secret was totally justified, with a kiss. Every kind word he uttered made my palms itch and heart kick. So I put them to work. With my thumbs at his jaw and fingers digging into the hair at the back of his head, I felt the pulse hammering wildly at his throat, his labored breathing that matched mine. The distraction was welcome.

  I pulled back, but he followed, chasing my lips. I dove in and pulled out again quickly, once. Twice. “Thank you for understanding even if I don't know that I could if I were in your place.”

  With foreheads touching and eyes closed, the breath of the words I spoke feathered across his face as his heavy breaths did mine. We all have secrets, was his solemn reply.

  “Okay, I have medical gauze and crutches for you, baby girl,” my dad proclaimed, effectively bursting the bubble Holden and I had been ruminating in. With a quick kiss, Holden took a step back then moved against the far wall so he wasn't hindering my father's progress toward me.

  With a lazy blink, I pulled back from the intimate haze. We'd hash it out later. I was sure he had more questions, and I wanted to make sure he would keep this new knowledge between us. I really hoped my trust in him didn't backfire, but what could I do about it now?

  CHAPTER 5

  The ride back to the farmhouse was stifling. Holden was thinking, but since I figured he wanted to do so privately, I didn’t eavesdrop while he worked through his thoughts. I was more than happy to have my earbuds in again. The soothing whine of the cello strings and thump of the bass allowed me to get lost, my whole body moving with the music; head bopping, shoulder popping and good foot tapping.

  The mad itch that niggled at me from beneath the stretchy wrap covering my damaged appendage kept me from losing myself completely. Stupid broken foot. I couldn’t believe the day I’d had. First getting hit with the prod at training, which sucked; then having my stalwart mount decide that he was going to let an insignificant buzzing insect tweak him to the point of insanity, my foot taking the brunt of the torture. Awesome day.

  When we pulled up to our temporary home, Holden was quick to help me from the vehicle, going so far as to carry me into the house and set me on the plush couch in the living room with instructions to stay put. Then he ran back out and grabbed the crutches I was supposed to use while I was down.

  Down. I wasn’t sure I could do it. What was I supposed to do all day, play solitaire? Maybe the commander could still find something for me without doing exercises or going on calls.

  I nearly came out of my skin as a clap of thunder resounded so loudly that it actually shook the walls, which were now painted a lovely shade of bluish-grey. It was a home blend that I’d come up with. Seeing as we didn't have the variety available to the outside world, we had to get creative. They definitely weren't taking custom orders and shipping them in. We had some basic colors for when repairs were needed or when new construction was underway, and we’d made do.

  Holden made an abrupt reappearance, now resembling a wet cat, letting me know that rain accompanied the thunder. I coughed out a laugh, watching him wrestle the crutches, grumbling incoherently each time they slid down the wall and tried their best to plummet to the floor. Giving up, Holden laid the slippery, cumbersome sticks in a heap on the ground and waved a disgusted hand at them, all while dripping a puddle of water around his feet.

  “Come over here, and forget about those. I need your attention more.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively and tried to keep a straight face as Holden visibly perked, swaggering slowly to where I still half lay on the couch. He leaned in close, hovering his upper body just in front of me, dripping wet and delicious. My mouth went dry as my eyes tried to commit all of his cut lines to memory. I didn’t even mind that he was dripping on me.

  Until he shook like a dog.

  I flinched, instinctively pulling my hands up in front of my face and squealing. That rich, rumbling laugh sounded in my head, and I returned it, pushing him away. “Go! Dry thyself, Drippy!”

  The laughter slowly faded as Holden went to the bathroom down the hall on the ground floor to locate a towel. In the new quiet, I was able to hear the pattering of rain as it hit the house, especially the window the couch sat in front of. I stared at the world outside, now lit with a grey tint, which you would think made it dreary, but I found soothing. I loved a good rainstorm. It was like a cleanse, allowing the world to breathe anew after rinsing away the buildup and remains of the past. A new start.

  I pulled my attention back into the room when I heard Holden return. Looking around, I roved my hands across the soft material of the couch. With how I was arranged – sitting across the length of the cushions, my legs extended – I had no idea how Holden would share the space.

  Then I was being lifted away from the couch, Holden once again holding me aloft like I was no more than a feather, before he sat and arranged me into his side. An arm wrapped around my shoulders ensured I didn't stray too far and allowed me to lean against his hard chest.

  Just relax for a bit. I've already messaged my uncle. He'll drop by after their session ends in a few to see how you're doing. He kissed the top of my head as I contorted myself to look at him while he spoke. How are you doing? Need anything?

  I snuggled into him as best I could, considering the semi-awkward position, and shook my head. “Let's just veg for a few.”

  And we did. We spent the next two hours watching and complaining about the movie that was on, all with the storm as a backdrop. Now that I had a little bit of experience with enforcement, I couldn't help but laugh at all the things the movies got wrong. Holden snorted nearly every few minutes with what they did. Honestly, I was just enjoying watching him get annoyed. It was cute.

  The way his strong jaw would clench and his lips twist, the stubble on his jaw becoming even more prominent somehow. The dip in his brows, causing little lines to appear and disappear between the dark slashes. The raising of those same brows and widening of those gorgeous peepers of his. Yeah, I was totally staring at my man. I'd stopped watching the television in favor of the Holden Show, and no, that was totally not creepy.

  Okay, maybe it did make me a creeper.

  The double take Holden sent my direction clued me in to his realization of my attentions just as much as his thoughts did. What? he asked, tipping his body away from me and into the arm of th
e couch in what seemed to be an attempt to read my face.

  I just smiled and shook my head before dragging him back to a position where he could once again be my pillow. I fisted my hand in his shirt and pulled him to me, connecting my mouth to his. He came willingly, encircling my upper body with his arms like a protective cage. But I was still at an awkward angle, what with basically being in a yoga position. I brought my right leg down to the floor – and promptly winced. Just the small jostle of contact sent a bolt of lightning through my foot.

  So... all fun things were out. Awesome.

  Commander james accompanied the rest of the troops as they all filed into the house shortly after my failed attempt at seduction. Holden had declared that we needed food and set about making dinner for the clan. The rich smells of browning chicken and the tang of coleslaw had my mouth watering. He’d even browned rolls, and the yeasty goodness had my mouth watering almost as much as the sight of him being all domestic did.

  A dark shape entered the edge of my vision as I watched Holden move about the kitchen, setting everything out and making sure we were good to go.

  “So. You’re out of commission for the week, huh?”

  I tore my eyes from the distracting sight to focus on my commander. His knowing smirk told me I’d been caught. Probably not hard to tell since everything else had faded to the background as I’d stared. Months with the man, and he still consumed my thoughts.

  “You can’t get that distracted by him. It puts you in danger.”

  I nodded, “That’s probably true.”

  “You’re music does too.”

  I nodded again. “I can’t give that up.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to, but that’s why I’ve asked that it not be used during training sessions. I know the others can get… noisy, but you need to hear that noise. That noise means no one can get the jump on you.”

  “I know. I’m working on it, but it’s also just a part of who I am. It calms me. It will never go away completely.”

  Now he nodded thoughtfully, lips pursed, hands on hips. Totally imposing. Looking at the commander, it was easy to be intimidated: the dark tactical clothing, covered in pockets that housed who knows how many hidden weapons; the rigid stance; piercing cinnamon eyes that could pull your secrets without effort. The black and silver stubble lining his jaw lent an additional layer of roughness that his closely shaven head belied. Top it off with the gun and badge at his belt, and Travis James was a contradiction; all hard lines and gruff demeanor but with kind eyes and a huge, compassionate heart.

  He was like the patriarch of our team. Not only our commander, but a family member. I got the impression that he and my father were actually pretty close, which threw me for a while. My father never spoke of him, and they didn’t meet socially, at least as far as I knew, but my dad’s head was a treasure trove of secrets that I couldn’t crack. His Sage ability was shielding, and even I couldn’t split it unless he wanted me to, a rare occurrence.

  “I think I’ll go stir crazy if I’m stuck glued to furniture for a week, Commander. Can I help out in some nonphysical capacity?” I so wasn’t above begging.

  Commander James sat in the green armchair closest to my perch to think about what would be suitable, running through different possibilities and determining their merit.

  Deciding to let him ruminate in peace, I turned my attention back to the kitchen and the goings-on within. It was full. Jade and Dane had jumped in to help set the table, and plates and silverware clinked as they set about their task, happily chattering about their day. They were so cute together, and anyone could see the adoration in Dane’s eyes. Jade was a little more guarded, but her walls were crumbling, the big man burrowing under her defenses.

  “Circling back to what I said about being aware, you could work on your hearing, and blocking.” As Commander James talked, he nodded, the idea solidifying for him. “Someone can drop you at a public location, and you test yourself.”

  That sounded horrible, but he was right. It was something I needed to do if I wanted to be a competent enforcer. I begrudgingly nodded my consent.

  “Stop chewing on your lip; you’ll be fine. The more you do it, the better you will become at it. Take tomorrow to rest, then if you want to work on your telepathy… that is how you will work until you are cleared for duty.” He patted my shoulder, the only thing he could reach considering our odd angles, and rose fluidly like a jungle cat. “Holden, what’s for dinner? It smells amazing.”

  And just like that I was left alone to ponder my thoughts, only I was too drained. A day filled with firsts but not the good kind. No. It had been a long, stressful and tiring day. The kind filled with pain and turmoil, both mentally and physically. My hybrid awesomeness couldn’t bypass the pain, but it could dull it. Thankfully.

  One week. Is that five or seven days I wonder? That was the last thought I had as I lay my head over the arm of the couch and let oblivion take me under its wing.

  “She’s hogging the couch. How am I supposed to watch TV with her all sprawled out like that?”

  “Geez, Boat Shoes. Oh so thoughtful, as always.”

  “What? So she has a boo-boo. Boo hoo. I’m not fawning all over her because of it.”

  The disgruntled, not so quiet conversation finally roused me somewhat from my coma. My eyes fluttering and squinting like a vampire exposed to light, I fought the urge to hiss as they kept trying to slide shut again, to pull me back into blessed sleep, the kind of rest I needed to kickstart my healing. I was all for it, but the not so subtle conversationalists had cued into my movements.

  “Go sleep upstairs. I want to watch TV,” Steve sneered. He was standing between me and said TV, spindly arms crossed over his bird chest, which hid under a starched, name brand polo. His glasses slid down his narrow nose as he glared down at me trying to look intimidating. He refused to push them back up. It was a struggle though. It was on an infinite loop in his head: Don’t push them up. Don’t push them up. Don’t push them up!

  “Oh just push them up. You’re not scaring me, Boat Shoes,” I huffed. “If you’re in such a hurry, go grab my crutches.” I scooted to a sitting position and flung my arm out to indicate the general location, up against the wall by the entry where Holden had left them in a disgusted heap.

  “What’s so funny?” Jade chimed, feeling my amusement. She had been the one arguing with Steve in a not too hushed whisper and stood off toward the kitchen a bit, a stack of dirty plates clutched in her hands.

  “Just remembering something Holden did when we got home.”

  “Ha! Well, I’m glad it was a funny memory and not a tingly one,” she said, shivering dramatically.

  I barked a laugh at her antics, making her smile. Mission Accomplished, she thought as she winked and turned back to the kitchen to help with the cleanup of dinner.

  Dinner. Dang it. I’d missed dinner. My stomach rumbled loudly at the reminder, sounding much like a dog fighting to keep its bone, making me cringe. What a pleasant and ladylike sound I am emitting. I needed food. Food and sleep were the two special ingredients in my self-healing equation, and I grabbed at the crutches when Steve finally returned bearing the torture devices.

  I angled myself so I could put my feet to the floor then used my hands to push myself into a standing position, my right foot hovering in the air as I awkwardly attempted to finagle the crutches under my armpits. Steve did not offer to help. Shocker.

  The trek to the kitchen was so much harder and longer than it should have been. I just knew I was going to hate the things by week’s end.

  Just be grateful it’s only a week… Holden quipped, reading my disgusted features as he appeared at my elbow, giving me an added boost to make another awkward maneuver, this time, down into an open chair at the table. I’ll go grab you a plate. Any requests?

  “Lots of protein please.”

  You got it. When you’re done, I’ll help you upstairs.

  “Huh?” Help me upstairs?

  You ever tri
ed to go up a set of stairs with crutches? His look made it clear that he knew I hadn’t and that he had before. A quick thought of his had me sidetracked. Holden, like everyone, was a man with a past. One that apparently was full of hurt. One we still hadn’t explored, but I wasn’t pushing. I only now opened up to him about a pretty big part of myself. I couldn’t expect more from him than I gave. One day, he’d trust me enough. Like I trusted him – or wanted to.

  CHAPTER 6

  AFTER MY DELICIOUS DINNER, of which I devoured two helpings, Holden took it upon himself to help me to my room. His version of “help” being to actually pick me up and carry me to the second floor landing like a bride across the threshold, then running – literally – back down to grab the aluminum instruments of death. I know now exactly what he’d meant about not being able to get up the stairs; I had zero idea how I would do that without help. Hopefully I could bear weight after tonight. You know, give my “sprain” about twenty four hours to lose sensitivity. Let me put weight on it for short stints. Otherwise, I was going to be one grumpy girl.

  Holden made it back up the stairs, looking none the worse for wear, just a little more tussled. You planning on taking a bath tonight?

  “I definitely need one, too much crap today. First eating concrete in the exercises then riding,” I scoffed. “Getting my foot broken was just icing on the cake.” I reached for the crutches, but Holden’s grip didn’t release. I tugged a little. “Uhh, Holden, I think you brought these for me.”

  What do you mean, “eating concrete?” He used the air-quotes and everything, which was really comical when his lips didn’t move. It reminded me of a very astute ventriloquist, one whose lips you never saw move, but you heard that dummy speak all the same.

  Focus, Nat. I chided myself. “Training this morning, we were doing real world scenarios, and I drew the short stick.” I amended, “Well, that’s not true, I guess. Steve actually outperformed me.” I winced. “I hate admitting that, so don’t tell anyone.”