Extant

by Mary M Wallace

  “It’s not your fault either,” she said. “We all thought she was dead. You were trying to keep the rest of us alive.” They drifted into silence, both reliving that night, trying to imagine how they might have done things differently.

  As they sat there, arms around one another, Sawyer became acutely aware that she was wearing sweaty workout clothes and she’d just finished an intense practice session. She wondered if she smelled. She moved to disengage herself from Corbin’s arms.

  With a small laugh, she said, “I’m gross.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “But I’m used to it.” He laughed at her look of outrage.

  She pulled away from him and gave him a shove, even as she laughed. He caught her hands in his and tugged her toward him. The laughter stopped as their eyes caught. They stilled, and the moment stretched out between them. Sawyer had a split second to wonder if he might kiss her before he abruptly looked away, dropping her hands. He climbed to his feet and stood with his back to her for a moment, one hand on the back of his neck. Sawyer wondered what he was thinking.

  He cleared his throat and his voice was different when he spoke this time. He turned back toward her, but she noticed that he avoided looking directly at her. “You should go see her,” he said, and the abrupt change in his demeanor caught Sawyer off-guard. He kept speaking. “Maybe she won’t talk to you, but I think it would be good. For you, I mean.”

  Sawyer knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to consider taking his advice. Still, she nodded her agreement. “I’ll think about it,” she said, which was as much of a promise as he was going to get from her and they both knew it.

  Corbin gave her a nod, still not looking at her and she stood, collecting her things. “Thanks, Corbin,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  He gave her another nod. “See ya.”

  Corbin watched Sawyer walk across the arena and through the doors, feeling his breath leave him in a sigh as they closed behind her. He sat back down on the bench and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He wondered what was going on with him. His interactions with Sawyer had changed recently and he didn’t understand it. He’d almost kissed her. Again. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that. This was Sawyer. He’d known her since they were kids and there had never been anything romantic between them.

  He thought back to the night he’d gone to her place to talk. That was the night all this had started. One minute they’d been comforting one another and the next, he’d been wondering how her lips would feel against his. And his curiosity had only grown since that night. He couldn’t spend five minutes with her without his gaze straying to her mouth. He wondered if anyone else noticed. Could Sawyer tell he’d been acting differently toward her? He hoped not.

  Over the past few weeks, he’d tried to examine his feelings toward her and he was still no closer to figuring out what he felt. He cared for her. He always had. She was one of his closest friends, but he wondered where this sudden attraction had come from. He’d known her for most of his life. When they’d been younger, he’d looked after her. He and Rowan had spent so much time together that he’d almost begun to think of his best friend’s sister as his own sister. As they’d grown older, he grew less inclined to look at her as a little sister and he eventually had to come to grips with the fact that she’d grown into a beautiful woman. Deadly too, which made her even more attractive in Corbin’s eyes. Still, in his mind, she’d always been labeled as off-limits. He’d certainly never imagined kissing her. Until now. And now that he had imagined it, he found that he couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

  As he sat on the hard bench, he tried again to understand what exactly had changed between them. He thought maybe they’d both changed since his injury and losing so many people they cared about. He knew he was different now. He understood better what was at stake. Looking back at who he’d been before that night, he found that he barely recognized that man. He wasn’t sure he liked who he used to be. He’d been reckless, cocky, quick to act but slow to consider the consequences of his actions. After he woke from his coma, he’d had a lot of time to think. He’d needed time to recover his strength and coordination. It was probably less time than others might have needed, but he credited his ability rather than anything he’d done himself. He also had no team, so active missions weren’t an option. Now, sitting in the empty arena, he thought back to those weeks. He’d spent a lot of time alone, thinking, wallowing in guilt, wishing he hadn’t woken up at all. At the time, he’d blamed Sawyer for not following his orders. She’d saved him instead of two of their teammates and it wasn’t right. He was angry at her all the way up until he saw her in that parking garage. When his eyes had landed on her, the only thing he’d felt was happiness. It was then that he finally realized all his anger was directed at himself. He’d been the one to cause the deaths of Tess and Liam and he’d been the reason Sawyer had left. Of course, it had taken him much longer to admit that to himself and to Sawyer.

  Once he’d finally let go of that anger, he’d been surprised to find something else in its place. The overwhelming emotion was gratitude. He still didn’t feel deserving, but he was so grateful that Sawyer had saved his life. That gratitude extended beyond himself though. He would always mourn Tess and Liam and he knew he’d always blame himself for their deaths. But he knew deep inside that losing Sawyer would have killed him. He hadn’t realized just how much she meant to him until he thought he’d lost her. He remembered waking up and thinking she was gone, even for only a few minutes. He never wanted to feel that way again. He’d be forever grateful to whatever force had spared the two of them. He felt like he had a second chance now to be a better man. When he thought about that, it always circled back to how he could be a better man for her. He didn’t know what to do with this new understanding, but he knew that this wasn’t the best time to act on his feelings. Too much was going on around them. Sawyer was dealing with a lot and he didn’t want to put more weight on her shoulders. He also wasn’t sure how Rowan might feel about his best friend having the hots for his little sister. Now definitely wasn’t the right time. Corbin could deal with his own feelings. He just needed to find a way to be around Sawyer without wanting to kiss her.

  Chapter Two

  Declan raised Bree’s hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of it. She looked over and smiled at him causing his heart to speed up a notch. They’d been walking for several minutes with no real destination in mind. They were both content to enjoy one another’s company during this rare break from training. Bree leaned into Declan’s side and he relinquished his hold on her hand in favor of draping an arm around her shoulders.

  Bree let out a contented sigh. “This is nice,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It’s been too long since we had time to just relax a little.”

  “Definitely,” Declan said, but something in his tone made Bree shift so she could see his face.

  “Hey,” she said. “Everything okay?”

  Declan smiled down at her and pulled her tighter against his side. “Yeah,” he said, his tone casual. “I’m just tired, I think. I didn’t sleep great last night.”

  As Bree studied his face, she thought maybe she noticed some faint shadows under his eyes. He’d yawned more than once during lunch. On impulse, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I didn’t notice you tossing and turning,” she said. “What kept you up?”

  He shrugged, “Bad dream.”

  Bree’s step faltered, but she caught herself. “It wasn’t—”

  Declan quickly shook his head, reassuring her. “No. It wasn’t the nightmare. I think it was just a run-of-the-mill bad dream.” His brow furrowed, and Bree could tell that whatever he’d dreamt had bothered him—was still bothering him.

  “Want to tell me about it?” she asked, hugging him closer to her for a moment. She could tell he was hesitating and she wasn’t sure why. Since they’d met, they’d discussed their dreams dozens of times.
The fact that she hadn’t had the same dream last night meant it was likely just a regular dream. It had been weeks since the two of them had shared one of the vivid nightmares. They still weren’t sure why the dreams had ceased, but both were glad to be rid of them, however temporary the reprieve.

  “Nah,” he said. “It was just a dream.”

  He shrugged and smiled down at her, but Bree could tell he was still troubled. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but she wasn’t going to push him if he didn’t want to talk about it. He turned his attention back to the corridor before them and they walked on in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts. Bree was worried about her friends, wondering how Rowan and Sawyer were doing. They’d both become more distant since Lydia’s death and the return of Stella. Bree didn’t know what to do or say when it came to Stella. She knew she was an outsider on the subject. She didn’t like it, but she understood it. It was in her nature to want to help—to fix things—but this was something she had to stay out of, no matter how much that annoyed her.

  She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn’t something she could fix, and she didn’t think Sawyer would welcome her input. Rowan wasn’t welcoming anyone’s input, which wasn’t like him. He’d shut himself off since that day and he barely spoke to anyone. She remembered Sawyer telling her about his behavior after they’d lost Stella and she wondered if this new Rowan was just another version of that grieving man. At the time, she’d found it nearly impossible to imagine Rowan that way. She’d met a more jovial man, one who laughed and cracked jokes when the moment got too serious. These days it was easier to picture him the way Sawyer had described him. Bree hadn’t seen him smile in weeks. Hell, she’d barely seen his face at all in the month since Stella’s return. The atmosphere in the entire compound had changed since that day, for that matter. She understood why, of course. Ephraim had sent the enemy into their home. He’d taken one of their own and turned her against them—even if it was only for a short time. He’d forced his way into the place they’d felt safest and if he could do it once, he could do it whenever he wanted. Everyone was on edge, tense, quick to anger. It didn’t feel like the same place she’d come to just a few months before.

  Security had been tightened throughout the compound as well as above-ground near the entrances. No one wanted to be that vulnerable again. They’d discovered the route Stella had taken when she’d brought Ephraim’s man—they still didn’t know his name—into the compound. There was an old air shaft that had long ago been sealed off due to structural damage. It was hard to believe they had both crawled through the narrow tunnel, but they had. Since that day, crews had scoured the entire compound using original blueprints, finding and sealing off any areas where someone could possibly gain access—no matter how unlikely.

  Bree felt Declan’s arm tense where it rested on her shoulder, bringing her mind back to the present. She hadn’t realized where their wandering had taken them, and she guessed that Declan hadn’t either. She looked to his face and saw that the earlier smile was gone, and his brows were drawn low. He kept his gaze down, rather than looking at the corridor around them. She tightened her hold around his waist. They were approaching the dining hall. The two of them had avoided this area as much as possible since the attack. It was as though they’d both silently agreed to stay away. Bree hadn’t given it much thought before today, but now she realized that they’d both been letting the events of that day dictate their lives.

  “Hey,” she said softly, pulling him to a stop. “We can’t keep avoiding this place.”

  Declan nodded. “I know,” he said with a sigh. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His lips curled into a ghost of a smile.

  “That we keep taking the long way to the dining hall? Or eating alone in my quarters most days? No, I hadn’t noticed,” she said wryly. She’d hoped to get him to give her a real smile, but if anything, he grew more distant. She wondered again what was going on with him, but didn’t know what to say, so she kept silent. She watched his gaze drift ahead to a place beyond the entrance to the dining hall and she knew what he was thinking.

  “Stop,” she said firmly. “It’s over. We did the best we could, but it’s not our fault Lydia is gone.” She felt the familiar tightness in the back of her throat that meant she was close to tears and tried to swallow it away. Clearing her throat, she tried to make her voice stronger. “Look at me,” she demanded. When Declan finally tore his eyes from the spot where Lydia had been shot, she placed her hand on his cheek. “You did everything you could to save her.”

  He nodded, but Bree saw a flicker of doubt in his gaze. Now she could really see the bruise-like shadows under his eyes. He clearly hadn’t slept well the night before. She wondered how many other nights he’d lain awake without her noticing.

  “Talk to me,” she said. “What’s really bothering you?” When he hesitated, she said, “Tell me about the dream.” When his eyes shot to hers, she knew she’d guessed correctly. Whatever he’d seen in his nightmare had affected him more than he wanted to admit.

  Declan sighed. “It was just a bad dream,” he said, attempting to smile at her. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Bree raised one brow at him in a look that he interpreted easily.

  “Fine,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “If you insist.”

  Bree shot him a knowing grin. “I do,” she said sweetly.

  “We’re back in this hallway.” He tipped his head in the direction he’d been looking earlier. “Right over there.”

  Bree felt her heartbeat falter at his words. She had a feeling she knew where this dream led, and it was nowhere good.

  “I can’t stop it,” Declan said. “I can’t get control of my body. I know what I need to do, but there’s this force that’s stronger than my own mind and I can’t stop it.” Bree watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed hard before he went on. “My brain is telling my hand to drop the gun but there’s this other voice too. It’s loud and it’s strong, and it’s telling me to pull the trigger.” He looked down at Bree and she could see the haunted look in his eyes that he’d barely managed to hide from her before. Declan reached his free hand up to cup Bree’s face. “And then I kill you,” he said quietly, letting his eyes fall closed as the words left his mouth.

  Bree tried to imagine what Declan was feeling. She’d spent years with the vivid nightmare of Ephraim controlling her, forcing her to shoot herself. But Declan had lived it. The man who’d forced Stella to bring him into the compound had been inside Declan’s head. He’d made him sit by helplessly while Lydia lay dying a few feet away. Declan had finally broken the man’s hold by turning his own ability against him, but it had been too late to save Lydia. It was possible that the wound she’d suffered hadn’t been survivable, but they’d never know if she might have lived had they gotten her help sooner. They all mourned for Lydia, but Bree suddenly realized that Declan had never talked about what he’d been through that day. And she’d never asked. They’d both been so relieved to have survived. She felt a rush of shame for her own distraction.

  “I’m sorry, Declan,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t even think—”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. “No,” he said. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “But I should have asked you about it,” she argued. “I should have thought about what you went through.”

  Declan shook his head again. “Stop,” he said firmly. “I’m fine. This is why I didn’t want to mention it. I knew you’d worry.” He cast her the lopsided grin that she loved. “I love that you worry about me, but I really am okay.” When Bree continued to look unconvinced, he sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

  “Look,” he said, “I’ve had a few bad dreams about that day and how things could have gone worse. That’s normal, I think. Things could have gone so much worse, but they didn’t. I hate that I couldn’t save Lydia. Every time I see you reading one of her books, I can see that bull
et hitting her all over again. I can’t look at James without remembering that he’s going to grow up without his mother. It’s an awful feeling and I know it’s not my fault but sometimes the guilt eats at me.” He reached a hand up to cradle her face. “But you’re alive and I can’t help feeling grateful for that. I’ll have nightmares for the rest of my life if it means you’re safe.”

  Bree leaned up and kissed him, but the worry didn’t quite leave her eyes. “Just talk to me, okay?” she said. “If something is bothering you, I want to know. I may not be able to fix it, but we’re in this together, remember?”

  Declan pulled her to him in a hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I know,” he said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she murmured, holding him tight for a few more seconds.

  Chapter Three

  After she left the training arena, Sawyer headed back to her quarters to clean up. As she walked, she thought over her conversation with Corbin. She knew he was right. They needed whatever information Stella had. Which meant they needed Rowan to talk to her. Stella had repeatedly made it clear that she would only talk to him. She’d always been a person who kept her word, so Sawyer doubted anyone else was going to get her to talk. She also knew how stubborn Rowan could be when he decided against doing something. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never been able to coerce him into doing something he didn't want to do.

  She considered everything else Corbin had said and let out a sigh as she unlocked the door to her quarters. He was right again, she knew. How could she ask her brother to do something she wouldn't do herself? She’d been a coward, afraid to face her friend. She was afraid she’d look at Stella and see the accusation in her eyes. She blamed herself and it would make perfect sense for Stella to blame her as well. It was why she’d stayed away for as long as she had. But now she knew she needed to take Corbin’s advice. She needed to go see her. She didn’t think it would make a difference in getting her to talk, but she had to try. Besides, if she were being honest with herself, she knew that part of her longed to see her friend. To confirm with her own eyes that she was alive.