Sawyer nodded and took another sip of wine.
Bree said, “How long were they together before…” She struggled to find the right words. “Before everything happened,” she finished lamely.
Sawyer thought for a minute. “Um, I’m not really sure. They kept things kind of private for a while. At least a year, I think.” She shrugged and they both lapsed into silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
Then Sawyer abruptly said, “What’s new with you?”
Her obviously fake enthusiasm made Bree smile and roll her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but the knock at the door stopped her. Both women turned to look at the door, curious.
Sawyer put her glass on the coffee table and went to answer it. To her surprise, Stella was standing there. She looked from Sawyer’s face to where Bree sat on the couch, eyes wide.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just come back—”
“No way,” Bree’s voice interrupted Stella’s apology. “Come in, please. We’re just having some wine and girl talk.” At that, Stella froze and gave Sawyer such a look of shock that Bree burst out laughing.
“Believe me,” Bree said wryly. “That’s the same look she gave me when I suggested it.”
Before Stella realized her intention, Bree had managed to get her inside and closed the door behind her. She ushered Sawyer and Stella toward the couch and went to the kitchen for another glass. Soon, all three women held a glass of wine. Bree waited for someone to speak, but it quickly became clear that if she wanted to have a conversation with these two, she’d have to initiate it.
“Stella,” she said, smiling when the other woman turned to look at her. “I never got a chance to tell you how happy I was to meet you.” Stella’s brows rose in confusion.
“You were happy to be held at gunpoint and nearly killed?” Stella asked her.
Bree shook her head. “Not that part,” she said. “I just mean that I’m happy you’re here. I heard a lot about you and I know how much you mean to the people here. So, I’m glad you’re back and you’re okay.”
Stella gave her a long look before taking a drink of wine. She stared into the glass for a moment before she looked back to Bree. “I should have said this already, but I’m sorry.” At Bree’s look of confusion, she clarified. “For that day, pointing a gun at you.”
“That wasn’t you,” Bree said. “You weren’t in control. Declan told me what it was like. I can’t imagine—well, I sort of can from my nightmare—but that’s not the same thing. The point is, I don’t blame you for anything that happened that day. I don’t think anyone here does.” Stella looked incredibly uncomfortable, like she regretted bringing it up. “Declan won’t admit it,” Bree said, “but he’s still bothered by it.”
Stella looked back to Bree. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Bree said, “He doesn’t sleep well most nights. Bad dreams. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do.”
Sawyer’s brow furrowed. “It’s not like the other dreams? Are you sure?”
Bree was quick to shake her head. “No, not like those. For starters, I’m not having them. That’s why I think they’re just regular nightmares, versus the shared variety. It’s been a while since we’ve had those, actually.” She raised her glass in a mock toast. “Good riddance,” she said and took a drink.
Stella looked mildly confused by the conversation. When Bree noticed, she said, “Sorry, that’s a whole other story. Since I was a little girl, I’ve had the same nightmare. Every time, it was exactly the same for more than ten years. Then one night, I ran into the guy from my dream. Literally.” She finished off her glass of wine and reached for the bottle to refill her glass.
Stella looked from Bree to Sawyer. “Declan?” she asked. Both women nodded. “And he had the same dream?” They nodded again. Stella looked thoughtful but said nothing.
“Anyway,” Bree said. “I still don’t think he’s sleeping well. He’s on edge, tired all the time. Whatever happened in his head that day is still bothering him.”
Stella took another sip of her wine but said nothing. Bree wondered if she was thinking of her own time with Hastings and hoped she hadn’t said something wrong.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Stella gave a little shake of her head. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’m okay.”
Bree gave her a little smile. After an awkward silence, Bree had a thought. She felt a twinge of guilt, but she ignored it.
“Sawyer,” she said, “what’s up with you and Corbin?”
Sawyer, who’d just taken a sip of her wine, coughed and sputtered for several seconds. “What?” she finally choked out. “What do you mean?”
Bree raised one brow but said nothing for a moment. Sawyer finally looked away from her knowing gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She muttered as she stood and walked to the kitchen. “Anyone hungry?” she called over her shoulder.
Bree met Stella’s gaze and found her smiling. It was the first time she’d seen Stella smile outside of old photos. They shared a conspiratorial look before they both turned to look at Sawyer. When she noticed their gazes on her, she froze in the act of opening a bag of microwave popcorn.
“What?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “There’s nothing up with me and Corbin.” Bree’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you blushing?” Bree’s shock had her nearly shouting the words.
“She doesn’t blush,” Stella said matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t know how.”
Bree stood and walked into the kitchen, carrying her glass. “Oh my god,” she said. “She’s totally blushing!” As she watched, Sawyer’s face turned an even brighter shade of pink and she covered it with both hands.
“Shut up,” she said from behind her hands, the words coming out muffled.
Stella walked into the kitchen as well and she and Bree stood there waiting for Sawyer to uncover her face. When she finally lowered her hands and looked at them, she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.
“I don’t know,” she said with a groan. Then she turned her attention back to the popcorn and took a deep breath. “Nothing,” she said. “There’s nothing going on between the two of us because he’s Corbin. He’s Corbin and he’s one of my best friends. So, there’s nothing.”
Bree nodded slowly. “Right,” she said, drawing the word out. “Nothing. Got it.” She turned to Stella. “You got that, right? The nothing part? Or does she need to say it a few more times?”
Stella nodded to Bree. “I think so,” she said. “To be clear though, she said there’s nothing going on, right?”
Sawyer picked up a handful of freshly popped popcorn and threw it at the two of them. “I hate girl talk,” she muttered before carrying the bowl back to the living room. She sat with it in her lap then reached for her glass.
Stella and Bree returned to the living room and reclaimed their seats, both looking at Sawyer expectantly. She ignored them while she ate several pieces of popcorn. Finally, she sighed and handed the bowl to Bree. She looked at her glass of wine when she spoke.
“I really don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes I could swear he’s about to kiss me and then other times he won’t even look at me. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m thinking!” She finished off her wine and held the glass out in Stella’s direction. Stella picked up the bottle and poured the remaining wine into Sawyer’s glass.
“I just know that something has changed between us and I don’t know what it is or what it means,” she said. “And neither of us seems ready to acknowledge it. I know I’m not.”
“Hmm,” Bree said, casting Sawyer a look from under her raised brow.
“Shut up,” Sawyer muttered.
By the time Bree made her way down the hall to her own rooms a few hours later, she was feeling considerably more relaxed than she had earlier in the day. The two bottles of wine she’d helped drin
k may have contributed to her relaxed state. Bree knew she’d pay for it in the morning, but for now she didn’t care. She let herself into her quarters with her key card and closed the door behind her, wincing when it made more noise than she’d planned.
Declan sat on the couch, a pencil in one hand and his sketchbook resting on his knees. He looked up when she walked in. Bree flashed him a broad smile.
“Hey,” she said, drawing out the word as she walked toward him. He tossed the sketchbook onto the coffee table and then did the same with the pencil. Bree flopped onto the couch beside him with a sigh.
“Hey, you,” he said, smiling. “I take it you had a good time?”
“Mmhmm,” Bree said, snuggling into his side. Declan put his arm around her and pulled her close.
“Did you guys run out of wine?”
“Mmhmm.”
He smiled at her sleepy voice. “You need me to carry you to bed?”
“Mmm,” she said, shaking her head. “I can walk.”
“Come on,” Declan said as he stood. He reached down and used both hands to haul her to her feet. Bree wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned heavily on him as they walked down the hall to the bedroom.
“You’re such a good boyfriend,” she said, making him laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said as they entered her bedroom. When she sat on the edge of the bed, he knelt and pulled off her shoes and socks for her. He looked up at her face when he finished and smiled at her unfocused gaze.
“You’re cute when you’re tipsy,” he said as he leaned up to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Into bed,” he said pointing at her pillow.
Bree didn’t need to be told twice. She climbed under the blankets and snuggled against her pillow. Declan pulled the blankets up to her chin the way he knew she liked to sleep and turned to leave the room. Bree reached a hand out and grabbed his wrist.
“No, stay,” she said in that same sleepy voice.
“I’m turning off the lights in the living room,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be right back.”
“’Kay,” she whispered.
Bree was sound asleep when Declan returned from the living room. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed beside her, smiling in the dark when she moved closer to him in her sleep. As he drifted to sleep himself, he wondered how he’d ever slept without her in his arms.
Chapter Eleven
The weeks passed, and things settled into a normal routine for the most part. The people of the Sigma compound had come to terms with Stella’s return even if it seemed that Stella herself hadn’t. She’d moved back into her old quarters after the first two weeks and she spent most of her time there. When she went out into the compound, she rarely showed herself, so few people ever saw her. She visited with Sawyer sometimes and the two of them had begun to rebuild their friendship a little at a time. Bree found that she liked Stella. She began to spend more time with Sawyer and Stella, though they hadn’t had another wine night. Bree wondered about Stella’s relationship with Rowan, but the subject never came up and she didn’t feel like she knew her well enough to ask.
Conrad hadn’t come to the team with any more news regarding the council, but they all expected that he would handle things in that arena. As long as he didn’t seem worried about it, Bree decided she wouldn’t either. She thought that Rowan finally seemed to be getting back to normal. They all knew he was working hard to find the connections that only he could see, but so far hadn’t had any luck figuring out why everything seemed to keep leading back to Declan. It worried Bree more than she let on, but Declan seemed determined to act as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. She tried to do the same, though it was always at the back of her mind.
Bree had finally had to face the music and break the news to Zoe that she wasn’t going to be coming back to school for the fall semester. That conversation hadn’t gone particularly well, but Bree told herself it was for the best. She wondered if she’d ever be able to go back to her normal life. When her thoughts ventured down that path, she shied away from it. She didn’t really want to know the answer. Part of her missed the simplicity of that old life. She’d been blissfully ignorant, and she almost wished she could go back to that. But then she remembered all the innocent people who’d been killed on Ephraim’s behalf. She thought of Lydia and of James having to grow up without his mother because of one of Ephraim’s soldiers. She knew that even though this life wasn’t the one she’d chosen, it was where she belonged. She was doing the right thing.
Bree thought she understood why Stella kept herself hidden so much of the time. She worried that the others blamed her for Lydia’s death. She understood Stella’s worry, but she also thought those fears were unfounded. From what she could tell, everyone at the compound had been relieved and excited to know that Stella wasn’t dead. She’d also heard more than one person express their anger at the idea that she’d been a prisoner for so many months. Everyone seemed to be placing the blame where it belonged—on the shoulders of Hastings and Ephraim. When Bree thought of those two, she felt her own anger swell. She wanted nothing more than to find Ephraim and stop him for good, but she realized how insane that idea was. If it were that easy, he would have been killed long ago.
She was glad that Hastings was dead, though. He couldn’t hurt anyone else with his mind control. Whenever Bree remembered the blank look in Declan’s eyes that day, a sick feeling washed over her. As for Declan, his nightmares seemed to have finally stopped and he was sleeping better at night, which was a good thing. She hated seeing the dark circles under his eyes that signified another sleepless night. They also hadn’t had their shared dream in months. Neither understood why it had stopped, but they weren’t complaining about its absence.
It sometimes occurred to Bree that the two of them were no closer to uncovering what it was that had drawn them together than they’d been the day they first met. It was as though, by some unspoken agreement, they’d both decided to stop digging. They were happy together and neither wanted to look too closely at the reason they’d met. If she gave herself a moment to reflect on that, Bree realized that she was afraid. She was afraid of whatever force had brought them together. She didn’t want to understand why or how it had happened. It was enough for her that she was with Declan and they were happy.
Tonight however, the nightmare was the furthest thing from Bree’s mind as she paced the exam room in Medical. She watched Sean, the medic on duty, help Declan remove the bulletproof vest he wore. Declan’s movements were stiff and slow and he was clearly hurting. He let out a grunt of pain as he lowered his arms. Bree chewed on her thumbnail absently. Declan’s shirt came off next and she sucked in a breath when she saw the large bruises on his chest. They showed her exactly where the bullets would have entered his body had he not been wearing the vest. One was slightly to the left of center and the other was just below that. They were angry red-purple splotches that stood out in stark contrast to the golden skin of his chest. She stared at them until they became an unrecognizable blur in her vision.
All she could think was that Declan could have died tonight. Her mind kept replaying the memory of watching the bullets hit him and her realization that she hadn’t been fast enough or accurate enough. Even after he’d sat up and it was clear that he was okay, Bree hadn’t been able to catch her breath. She’d felt ill and had to fight to keep her composure. Somehow, she’d been able to hide her worry during the rest of the mission. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it together now that they were all back inside the compound.
Their team had been on a mission at what was supposed to have been an abandoned facility they suspected belonged to Ephraim. It turned out that there were still some of his men inside. One of them got off a couple of shots before anyone knew they were there. Bree replayed those moments in her head again, trying to understand why she hadn’t been faster.
The sound of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned and watched Sawyer walk into the
room.
“Dec,” Sawyer said loudly. “Ouch! Those look painful.”
Declan smiled. “Hurts like hell,” he admitted.
“Good thing you were wearing your vest,” she said. “Guess you gotta keep working if you want to be as fast as me. You know, dodging bullets and all that.” Sawyer laughed.
Declan chuckled but then groaned as the action caused pain in his chest. “Don’t make me laugh, Sawyer.”
Bree couldn’t take anymore. “Do you both think this is funny?” she asked in a harsh voice. “There’s nothing funny about this. What the hell is wrong with you?” She shook her head at them in disgust and pushed her way through the door, leaving them in Medical.
Sawyer’s brows went up. “Whoops,” she said. “I think made her mad.”
Rylee entered as Bree was leaving, looking after her daughter in confusion. “What’s that about?” she asked pointing with her thumb in the direction Bree had gone.
Declan closed his eyes and sighed. He moved to stand.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Sean told him in a firm voice that brooked no argument. “You need some x-rays before you can go anywhere.” Declan looked like he was about to object but Rylee put a hand on his forearm.
“I’ll go talk to her,” she said. “Stay and get checked out.”
Declan looked like he wanted to argue but Rylee raised her brows at him in challenge and he sat back down. He was outnumbered, and he knew it. He hated that Bree was upset with him. He tried to imagine himself in her position, watching her being treated after getting shot. Vest or not, he knew he wouldn’t have handled it well.
“Tell her I’m sorry,” he said to Rylee. She nodded and turned to go.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Rylee said, turning to look at Declan before she walked through the door. “Please don’t do that again,” she added in a stern voice.
Declan gave her a sheepish smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
It didn’t take Rylee long to find her daughter. If they’d been at their house, she would have gone straight to the big oak in the back yard. Since that wasn’t an option here, Rylee went to the large room on Level 2. She found Bree sitting on the bench, her shoulders slumped, elbows resting on her knees. She sat beside her, and neither spoke for several minutes.
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