“Neither.”
Wow. He wasn’t going to make her job easy, was he? She stood up. “Okay, you don’t want to go out with me. Fine. I tell my kids all the time there is a right way and a wrong way to tell someone you don’t want to play. You can be nice about it or mean. Obviously, Eli, I misread our times on this bench entirely. You didn’t have to be an ass and let me go on and on. It would have more polite for you to simply say no thanks and—”
“I do want to play with you.” Elijah motioned to the bench. “Sit back down, Rose.”
Her knees worked without any conscious thought from her, and she parked herself on the bench.
“I don’t communicate well. In my previous…life…job…whatever you want to call it, I never needed to.”
“What did you—”
He interrupted her again, which must be a record for him. “I’m never going to want to discuss the old part of my life. It’s over. I’m in school, and it’s all about moving forward.”
“So, you’re saying you don’t want to see me again…”
He touched her arm, and a jolt of electricity moved through her body. It left her slightly breathless. “I would really enjoy going out on a date with you. I don’t want today to be the last time I see you.”
“Great.” For a change, it was she who was at a loss for words. He continued to stare at her with his blond hair and blue eyes and perfect cheekbones and kissable lips, and she simply could come up with nothing to say. Nothing what-so-frickin’-ever.
Dizzy and kind of lightheaded, she fought to maintain her equilibrium as her world tilted slightly.
“I’m available tonight.”
“Oh.” She sat straighter and tried to gather her thoughts. Rose’s imagining of asking Eli out never reached the part of the equation of getting together for the date. Having been so preoccupied with the asking, she’d never thought of the actual going.
She continued, needing to do better than oh. “I’d like to go tonight, sure, this evening would be fine.”
“Great. Where would you want to go?” He regarded her differently. She couldn’t explain it, only it was as if he turned all of his focus onto her in a way it hadn’t been before. The effect left her breathless, and yet, she would gladly give up oxygen to hold his regard for the rest of the day uninterrupted.
“Well, you know I’m a teacher, so some of the fancier places are out of my pay scale. That being said, I know a really good Italian place where you can order—”
“Rose.”
She stopped talking. He’d said her name, and it sounded akin to music. “What?”
“I’m going to pay. It’s a date. I’ll take you out.”
“No. I asked you out, which means I’m paying.”
He shook his head. “I can’t and won’t accept you paying for anything. You did the asking, I’ll do the paying, and since it’s clearly going to be an issue you’ll worry about, I’ll assure you I can afford to take you out. I’ll pick the place. You stay dressed as you are.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times. “Okay.”
“Good.” He unwrapped the bagel and took a big bite. When he finished chewing, he smiled and nodded. “It’s delicious, and you’re going to be late.”
She jumped to her feet, and when she would have darted, he grabbed her arm. “I need your phone number so I can text you mine. And then you’ll send me back your address so I can pick you up.”
Five minutes later, what he described happened. Exactly as Elijah said it would. It kept a smile on her face the rest of the day. It didn’t bother her—well, maybe only slightly—she’d made a date with a guy who called his previous job his life and told her he didn’t want to talk about it. Wasn’t everyone entitled to their secrets? How bad could it be?
Now
“Ms. Rose.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. So intent on listening for noises outside, she hadn’t noticed Kent awakened.
“Sweetheart. Come here.” She extended her arms, and he walked into them. He needed to stay close where she could keep him near. If he moved around too much or was out of range, and something happened, she’d never forgive herself.
“It happened, really? My Maw Maw, she’s dead.” He hadn’t quite gotten rid of the lisp when he made his s sounds, although it was much better than when he’d been in her class. The act left the impression of his being much younger than his actual age.
She saw children two years younger than him every day. Still, Kent seemed very small to her.
“It did.”
“The woman police officer, she came through the door. Shot my Maw Maw, and then she wanted me. I ran. I hid. And then you came.”
Exactly the way he told the story earlier. Starts and stops, not much detail to hold onto. His Maw Maw started medicating him earlier in the year to help with his focus, which would have to be wearing off soon. The fact he’d slept at all surprised her. Trauma could trump anything going on in the body, it seemed. She’d never needed him to take medication when he’d been in her class. Since he was older, and the work was more taxing, the teachers complained more. Who was she to judge? She liked Kent focused or inattentive. Either way, he was a great kid.
“We’re going to be okay.” Lying to him seemed the kindest thing she could do.
“You always told us not to fib.”
She squeezed his arm. “Smarty-pants. Don’t you think I can figure out what to do?”
He was silent for a while, and when he spoke again, his words surprised her. “Maybe we can call my dad.”
“Your dad?” The day must really be taxing him. “Kent, your father died before you were born. In Afghanistan. He was a Marine, and he didn’t come back home. You’ve never met him.”
“They were lying when they told me those stories. I’ve always believed my daddy’s alive.”
“I don’t think they were.” Nothing could be more heartbreaking than a child’s wishful thinking, such as the father he’d never known swooping in and saving the day. Why not expect Prince Charming to show up and do it on his white horse? Or Elijah Jones to suddenly appear on her doorstep begging forgiveness with a completely acceptable reason for disappearing without a trace?
“I can always tell when someone is fibbing. Their voice sounds funny. I can’t focus on some things, like History. Social studies. Blah. Only details make sense to me. I can hear things. See them. My Maw Maw used to sound different in the way she talked about my dad. She thought the money must be coming from somewhere. I heard her on the phone. She tried to find out. Recently, she hired someone to find out.”
These were questions Rose couldn’t deal with. If there were answers, she’d have to find them later. Distracting him and keeping him busy were important, as were basic necessities. “I found some wood in the closet where an old friend put it. Do you want to help me make a fire?”
If someone hunted them, they probably knew they were there anyway. Might as well be warm.
3
Now
“Usually, when someone calls me to ask to do something, they haven’t already done it. I should bust your balls for coming to me after the fact.”
Frustration edged Steele’s voice. Plat didn’t usually incur his team leader’s wrath. He actually liked to work for Steele. He was fair, and he took care of his guys, which went a long way to inspire loyalty.
“Do you know the expression it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission?”
A cab blasted his horn, and Plat winced. A year since he’d been in New York City, and he’d forgotten the sheer volume of sound on the street. The noise used to be unbearable, until he’d met Rose. She’d quieted everything.
Only he didn’t expect to see her on his trip. Or if he did, she’d probably be more interested in yelling at him than making anything easier. He would let her.
“Is that what you’re doing? Asking for forgiveness?”
Now would be a good time to really start explaining, except saying ten words when four wou
ld do didn’t work for him. Well, with anyone except Rose. “Do I need to?”
“We’ll talk when you come back. You’ve never done this before. It's gotta be serious, or you wouldn’t have gotten on a plane and left. I’ll trust you to handle your personal shit. But I expect to see you as soon as it’s over. Be less than a week. If you don’t come back, I’m activating that GPS chip in your shoulder and coming after you. In that case, Platinum, you’d better have some hell of a stout reason to be radio silent, or I’m going to be pissed.”
“Right.” Fuck.
“And good work on the Rodgers situation. We were all surprised by how fast you took care of him.”
Another car horn blasted, and his ears rang. “Thanks.”
Plat disconnected the phone.
Steele’s mention of Rodgers boosted his confidence. He could actually accomplish his task. The only time in his career had he been given the opportunity to go against another sniper one on one. His most recent target worked for the enemy doing Plat’s exact job for the other side. Two of them got up in the morning, and only Plat returned. Oorah.
Give him a mission to rid the world of trash any day over what he needed to manage on his current task. He was going to have to go lie his way through the door of The Boy’s school, resist all urges to go stare at Rose from a distance, and find out what was going on. It was a good thing he held the paperwork to show he managed Kent’s scholarship money. The papers should at least help him through the door.
In the year he’d dated Rose, he’d never stepped through the door of Coleto Academy. When he’d met her after work, he’d waited outside.
He buzzed the bell and went inside. The building looked old and well-kept with the walls colorfully decorated. Smiling children darted around him, and he moved out of their way. Making a quick note to avoid the hallway with the label Kindergarten for obvious reasons, he went into the office and nearly collided with a woman running down the hall.
He caught her before she fell over, and he watched as she ran down the hallway he was determined to avoid.
“I’m so sorry,” the secretary sitting behind one of the desks called out to him. “We’re in crisis mode here. Are you part of the police force?”
She looked like a nice woman—her desk held a nametag saying Nancy—and she smiled brightly. Her hair was blonde with grey roots, and she’d kicked her shoes off beneath her desk. The school might be in some kind of crisis mode, although Nancy did not seem to be. And seeing as he wasn’t sporting a badge or a gun or any kind of cop paraphernalia whatsoever, he wouldn’t have pinned himself as a cop
It might be interesting to play at it for a while, except he needed answers on Kent. He didn’t have time for anything else.
“It’s so awful about Kent. Do you think you’ll find him?”
And she talked because he didn’t answer. Happened in his life more than anyone would believe. His son went missing, the school knew, the cops were involved, and there was some kind of crisis going on.
“You can count on me finding him, Nancy.” He walked toward her desk and smiled, making sure to show some teeth.
“Oh.” She clutched her chest. “Thank you. His grandmother’s murder is such a shock. And one of our kindergarten teachers, Ms. Rose, has gone missing. I have so much I’m worrying about.”
Whatever else she would have said he missed. Ringing echoed in his ears and wouldn’t stop. Grandmother dead. Both Kent and Rose missing.
Plat never considered himself a narcissist. He did not believe the world revolved around him, yet there was no earthly way both The Boy and His Rose—The Rose disappeared at the same time, without it having something to do with him.
Some enemy fucker found what he’d taken such pains to hide. When he discovered who had taken his son, killed The Boy’s grandmother, and kidnapped the only woman he’d ever loved, he would destroy them.
Everyone left clues behind. He was a sniper, details were his specialty.
Rose had redecorated her apartment. Wishing away his nostalgia, Platinum sighed to the quiet rooms. What had he expected? She wouldn’t change a thing? The entire overhaul of her environment threw him. If her pictures weren’t still in their frames, he’d have thought he was in the wrong apartment in her fifth-floor walkup. Where had all her science fiction nick-knacks gone?
Though her perfume still clung to the walls too, he refused to dwell on her vanilla scent either. No signs of struggle. Despite the fact she’d gone missing from school, it didn’t appear the cops made it through her place yet.
If Rose had been snagged here, she’d have put up a fight. He suddenly envisioned her hands gripping the silk binds on her wrists, and the way she playfully pulled on them the last time they’d been together. Rose Smith was as tough as anyone he knew.
She’d be screaming, kicking, and…
He walked over to her dry erase board. She’d changed the color of the walls and the fabric on the chairs, yet she still kept her dry erase board. Nothing went into her Google calendar without also making it on the old fashioned scheduler, which belonged more in a college dorm than her quite-sophisticated redone apartment.
Where had she been recently? He scanned her handwriting and stopped when he read the notation detailing The Boy. It looked as if she made a weekly stop with Kent. Huh. Why? She’d liked all of her students. Did she work with all of them after they moved on from her class?
What if…
An idea formulated in his mind. Kent’s grandmother died, shot, if the reports he’d stolen off the secretary’s desk were to be believed. The day his Rose—The Rose since he placed the word in front of the name of everyone he loved— went to see The Boy. His love would never have shot anyone, certainly not an old woman trying to raise a child on her social security checks and anonymous donations.
No, she would have taken Kent and run, maybe even gone into hiding if she’d witnessed the tragedy—if she’d been scared.
And he knew where she’d go—her parent’s cabin—he’d been there with her, once. Rose’s version of the middle of nowhere illustrated her true innocence, an innocence he’d treasured. He could be there in a few hours.
And fuck if he’d ever be letting her, or The Boy, out of his sight again. Even if he needed to explain a lot when he found them.
Platinum knew he was right about what happened and where they were, because the other options weren’t stomachable.
He glanced once more around the room. Why would she have decided on black and white plaids? She was a bright color girl. If she spoke to him enough for him to ask, he’d find out. His heart clenched, and he ignored the emotional pang. Not hearing her voice while she happily chatted? Not ever getting the chance to, somehow, explain to The Boy how he couldn’t be in his life, although he thought of him constantly? Those were the worries keeping him up at night.
Their deaths would not be added to them.
Two years ago
“This is my place.”
Rose whirled around her small living room as though she welcomed him to a palace and he couldn’t help but grin. A single glass of white wine, and she chatted more than ever. He loved it.
“It’s nice.” Should he say something else? “I admire your paint colors.”
She pointed at the dark red wall. “What can I say? I enjoy elemental tones, which speak to me.”
Was it possible he could live as she did? He hadn’t wanted the government to kill off his previous life, to tell him he would no longer be who he’d always been. Yet standing with Rose in her small living room, he wondered if he could live this way. Could he let what happened with Operation Phoenix go? Forget about the dirty bombs of the world? Of the Marines who hadn’t come home?
Rose spinning in her living room made hope possible, if not probable. Part of Eli would always be on that fucked up mission, wondering how it all went so bad.
Every time the beautiful redhead laughed at something he said, she offered him a glimpse of something pure left in a dark world. Maybe The Boy
could have a shot at it. Maybe Elijah might…
“Are you going to kiss me?” He tuned in immediately with her question. Truth was, he never should have let himself become distracted. Every word she uttered fascinated him. He wanted to remember every single detail.
Elijah walked toward her and placed his hand on her cheek. Her skin was so soft. “I am going to kiss you.” She shuddered beneath his fingertips. “Were you asking in general or requesting it immediately?”
She laughed, which was what he wanted. “I guess I’m kind of pushy, aren’t I?”
“You’re used to being in charge. You run your classroom, your life, and you arrange things. I enjoy those traits about you. Admire it. Pushy on you equates sexy.” She blushed. Her pale skin showed her every emotion. “Only how about in this way, you let me? I’ll give you what you need. I’ll take care of you, beautiful.”
“I’m not good at letting other people handle things.” She looked down, and he tipped her chin to make her recapture eye contact. When he held her blue eyed gaze again, he smiled.
“I think you don’t understand how good it can be. Let’s not worry about it right this minute.” He ran his finger down her nose. “You’re lovely. So beautiful, I can’t believe I get to touch you.”
“Okay.” Except insecurity continued to flicker in her eyes.
“What are you worrying about?”
“When you say let you be in charge, do you mean BDSM, dominance, submissive stuff? Is that what you enjoy?” Her voice wavered, and he tugged her against him, wanting to shelter her from whatever demons scared her.
“What I enjoy is you. I enjoy some of it, except I’d say it changes from partner to partner. I’m not living the lifestyle outside of the bedroom. At the moment, I’m not going to clubs. I have no issue with anyone who does. I used to. I guess I’ve always needed to do things my way.”
And since he’d been forcibly reinvented, he hadn’t exactly figured out what the new him would be about in any fashion. Rose was his first foray back into a life he hadn’t exactly participated in fully the last time around.
The Men of Elite Metal: Platinum, Zinc, & Francium Page 3
