Lena switched off the old sewing machine she'd brought up from the basement, folded the half-finished skirt and set it next to her on the window seat. She and Jason had been the only ones from school to show up at Eric's funeral the month before, and he'd only gone because she had begged him to.
You're letting it happen again.
She shook her head. This was nothing like what had happened with Raúl, or with Andy. Eric's death had been completely beyond her control. She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, telling herself that more crying wouldn't solve anything.
Shoving out a breath, she turned to the window, the faintest ghost of a smile touching her lips when she saw Jason in the driveway, waving her down. She waved back, then hurried to meet him, throwing herself into his arms.
"How've you been holding up?"
His voice vibrated softly through her. She pressed her face closer to his chest, her fingers tightening on his shirt. His sigh ghosted across the top of her head.
"That was his choice," he reminded her quietly. "It wasn't your fault."
"I-I know, but that doesn't change things," she sniffled, then pulled back and wiped her eyes, taking a small, shuddering breath. "Uh, why the drop-by?"
He put a hand on the hood of his car.
"I remembered a promise I made a while ago," he flashed a smile. "I never got to show you around town."
Lena looked at the sky. It was clear, warmer than it had been in weeks, and she figured it would do a lot more than staying locked up in her room. She wiped her eyes again, then attempted a smile.
"Okay, let's go."
Blackwood Cove was smaller than she'd thought, barely twenty square miles, and the ferry was the only way to reach the island. Her kidnapping had led to the town council finally voting to seal off the mine, and all known airshafts.
"Lance's family discovered the silver," Jason explained, keeping his eyes on the road. "We built the town while they took care of the mine."
"I read about that in one of the guidebooks you can get at the dock," she ran her fingers through her hair, wincing when she caught a knot. "When did the silver run out?"
He rubbed the dark scruff on his chin. He really did look better with it.
"Some time in the twenties," he barely made it through a yellow light. "After that, they handled exports and stuff."
He finished the water bottle stashed in his cupholder and tossed it in the back.
"They tried being a crime family in the forties," his teeth flashed in a smirk. "But we took them out pretty fast."
She looked at him.
"You mean your Italian family was part of the mob? Isn't that kind of cliché?"
He snorted, turning onto the dirt road that bordered the town. Lena sat back, her gaze flicking between him and the way ahead. He pulled into a small parking lot, a tan, cut stone path at the end leading through a stand of dark, slender trees with twisting branches and bright red leaves.
"They're red dragon maples," he said before she could ask, flashing a smile as he climbed out of the car. He dropped his keys in his shirt pocket. "If you want to find out where we are, you'll have to follow me."
The trail passed under a carved wooden sign, branching through shrubs painted with a rainbow of flowers. Green stalks of bamboo ran along a short wood fence, a red bridge crossing a clear stream lined by smooth stones and flashing with colorful koi. A slender old man in pale blue exited a tiny shed, singing softly to himself. He grinned when he saw them, offering a shallow bow that Jason politely returned.
"Come on," he took her hand, leading her down a path bordered by cherry trees, pale pink or white with blossoms. She was surprised to see a few with yellow flowers, others with green. A young robin took flight from its nest, cradled in a hollow in one of the larger trunks.
"It's so pretty here," she turned to Jason, and her smile faded. He was staring pensively at the white chrysanthemum he twirled slowly in his fingers, his other hand shoved deep in his pocket. "Hey, you okay?"
"Huh?" he looked up, letting the flower fall to the ground. "Oh, yeah, sure."
"You don't sound like it," she walked over to him. "What were you just thinking about?"
He shook his head, watching as the breeze snatched up the blossom and carried it to another stand of bamboo. His fist tightened briefly at his side, and he sighed heavily.
"There's just a lot of shit I really wish I could change."
<<<>>>
"What's happening now?"
He peeked through the leaves, trying to ignore that his feet were falling asleep from crouching in the dirt and shade behind the shrub. They were standing on the path; the boy talking as much with his hands as he did with his mouth.
"Nothing worth noting," he didn't bother hiding his boredom.
"I still want you to keep an eye on them," the boss answered. "We can't risk anything being shared. And don't let them die this time!"
He rolled his eyes; one slip-up and he never heard the end of it.
"Understood," he pulled off the headset, letting it hang around his neck. He'd been following these two for months, never more than a few yards away. He shifted to one knee, separating the thin branches to get a better look.
"Come on, you two," his fingers twitched in anticipation, the gun at his thigh begging to be drawn. "Give me some reason to do this…"
He had no idea why the boss insisted on letting them live. The girl was gorgeous and sweet, sure, and he guessed the guy was okay, too, but he couldn't think what was so intriguing about them. It probably had more to do with who the boy was, and he wondered if this were simply so they could keep tabs on their little bargaining chip. But then why hire him? He was a mercenary, not a babysitter.
He waited a moment after they turned on another path, then followed them to the greenhouse in a back corner of the garden, squatting by a broken pane. The plants were a little thicker there, thanks to the warm, humid air spilling from the hole, ensuring he would stay hidden.
He peeked inside, hearing her happy giggle as she explored, running her fingers over every petal and stem she could reach. The boy stayed by the door, his arms crossed, lost in thought again. Was he already regretting whatever he'd told that girl?
I just hope something interesting happens soon. His fingers brushed against the gun, aching to pull the trigger. Otherwise, I might just go against orders.
<<<>>>
Jason held the greenhouse door, several butterflies gliding out on a draft of warm air and flitting to nearby flowers.
"This is what I really wanted to show you," he smiled at Lena. "It's my favorite thing about this place."
She gasped as she walked through, her fingers trailing along a violet wisteria vine creeping over a table crowded with square flower pots, planted with every color of iris. Ladybugs crawled along leaves and stalks of all sizes and shades, flowers filling the air with a mix of perfumes. He leaned against another table, covered with seedlings in smaller, labelled pots.
I never should've started all this, he thought. He'd already had two attacks that month, the second landing him in the hospital overnight, and still no one had any idea why it kept happening. He bit his tongue to hold back a groan, sighing in relief when the stab of pain in his gut faded. He guessed it didn't matter what they ended up calling it, since he'd end up worm chow regardless, but it would just be a bit easier to deal with if it had a name.
He watched her pick up a rose that had fallen off a branch, the pale yellow petals a perfect contrast to her skin. She'd been through too much already, and here he was, selfish enough to put her through more.
"Are you sure you're okay, Jason?" she turned to him. "We can go if you're not feeling up to this."
He looked at her, then chuckled, heading to one of the larger pots on the floor. He bent down and reached behind it. She gasped, the rose dropping from her hand.
"M-My jewelry box," she covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "Where did you find it?"
He blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his head.
"Lance gave it to me a few weeks ago, he said he found it in Stephanie's room," he held it out to her. "I would've given it to you sooner, but…"
She reached for it, then fell back against the damp wall, crying into her hands. He set the box on a table and picked up the flower, tucking the stem into her hair.
"I'm sorry I ignored you like that, Jason," her breath hitched. "Especially after everything you've done for me, I just didn't know how to—"
"It doesn't matter, you came back," he traced the curve of her cheek, brushing his thumb lightly along her bottom lip. "Let's just put the rest behind us."
She sniffled, wiping her eyes and offering a small, shaky smile. He watched the blush creep over her face as he ran a hand through her hair, his heart racing as he leaned forward. He kissed her, holding her gently, feeling her fingers ghost shyly over his chest. She pulled away first, gazing up at him with bright, adoring eyes.
"Thanks again for saving me, Jason," she said quietly, then licked her lips as he moved to kiss her again. "Thank you for everything."
<<<>>>
His wrists burned, rubbed raw by the rough, tight ropes. His face was throbbing. He'd been ambushed on a dark, empty road, barely able to keep from crashing as his tires were shredded by spike strips. He'd hardly climbed off his ruined motorcycle when those men had grabbed him, throwing him blindfolded and bound into a vehicle that reeked of rotting meat, ammonia and vomit.
"You brought this on yourself, pal."
The deep, guttural voice was vaguely familiar, filling him with a rage that went far beyond being assaulted and kidnapped. He grunted, a large bump in the road having nearly thrown him off the seat.
"Where are you taking me?" he demanded, then coughed hoarsely as a fist slammed into his aching ribs.
"You'll know it when you see it," another voice spoke, smoother and slyer than its counterpart. He snorted, his gut tightening as he tried to fight the jostles and jolts of the unpaved road. Another smell had leaked past the others—fresh blood.
The cold metal of a gun pressed deeper into his back as the vehicle jerked sharply to a stop. A door slid quickly open, and he stumbled as they shoved him out, closing his eyes against the glare of headlights when they ripped off the blindfold. He could barely see the stone building with its piqued roof, crowned by a large, ornate cement cross, but he could never mistake the woman standing in front of the tall, stately wooden doors.
Her heels clicked as she climbed slowly down the stone steps, her red gown dark as wine in the low light, her ebony hair coiled in a thick braid on the back of her head. She touched his chin with slim, manicured fingers, her small, confident smile fading when she saw his bruised eye and swollen lip.
"What did you do to him?" she demanded icily, glaring at the other three men. The shortest messed with his gun before reaching behind his back to shove it into his waistband.
"We had some trouble subduing him," he offered weakly, not meeting her gaze. She eyed the group coldly, then waved a dismissive hand.
"Leave," she ordered simply, leading him inside as they scrambled into their putrid van and took off. She struggled to push the heavy door shut, slumping against it. "At least that's over with."
He looked around, taking in the neat rows of empty pews, the plain alter standing tall across the room, nearly touching the low ceiling. Small torches sat in cast iron sconces on the pillars between the shuttered windows, filling the air with a light haze, tinged with the smells of burning tar and wood.
"What happened, Anya?" he turned to her as she shoved off the wig, tugging out the pins that held her platinum curls. "Where have you been all this time?"
She smirked at him as she kicked off her shoes.
"I'm happy to see you, too," she pulled a small knife from the folds of her dress, her breath hissing through her teeth as she cut the rope from his mangled wrists. "But it looks like your little escort wasn't."
He shrugged, working the circulation back into his hands.
"They jumped me just outside town," he frowned. "I just finished fixing my ride this morning, too."
She giggled, tossing the rope aside.
"It's kind of your fault for scaring them so much," she said. "They're on our side, too, you know."
He snorted.
"They don't act like it," he sat down on one of the pews, trying to ignore the pulsing sting of his wounds. "Why'd they bring me here, anyway?"
She nodded toward the tray waiting by his elbow, then pulled off the cloth to reveal a large syringe, the liquid inside a shifting, indiscernible color. She picked it up and took off the clouded plastic cap.
"They said it was time for the next phase."
She reached for him, but he jerked away.
"They said the last phase would be the last one," he eyed it warily. "Where are they trying to take it now?"
She shook her head.
"You know I can't tell you that," she reminded him. "I'm not authorized to."
"That never stopped you before," he looked at her, his eyes widening as the realization hit him. "That's why you disappeared, isn't it?"
He'd gone through a cycle of injectors the last few months, stuck wondering what had happened to her. It was also when that dark-haired woman had shown up, taking open control while the other bosses preferred staying on the sidelines.
"Yeah," she switched the needle to her other hand and swiped her palm against her skirt. "That's also why I 'ordered' those guys to bring you here, you would've been killed if you'd gone to the hut like usual. I didn't realize they had such a grudge against you, though."
He shrugged again; it wasn't the first beating he'd suffered, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.
"But why would I have been killed?" he asked. "You never told me anything I couldn't have found out myself."
She scoffed, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, then smoothed the wrinkled blue fabric from his chest.
"You really think that matters to them? And this one's designed to go in your heart," she went on. "I'm afraid I can't say anything else until I give it to you."
He straightened, watching as she disinfected the site. The fine tip pierced his skin, a light tingle rippling out from the spot. His pulse sped up a bit, his vision blurring slightly at the edges; he waited for the intense burning, to feel like every cell was being ripped apart from the inside out.
"It doesn't have the same after-effects as the last round, thank God," she capped the syringe and set it back on the tray, then looked uneasy. "Listen, have you noticed anything…different about yourself, since you started getting these?"
"I don't think so," he buttoned his shirt and got to his feet. The dizziness and nausea upon standing were absent as well. "But then, I can't remember ever not getting them."
She reached in the folds of her dress and brought out a photo dated from his third birthday. The top half had been ripped away, leaving a stick-thin toddler alone in the foreground. His skin was pale, covered in scratches, cuts and burns, but he was smiling, limp, messy hair hanging in his sparkling eyes. He vaguely remembered that stained white shirt with the red dragon, the oversized stuffed owl tucked firmly against his side.
Hardly aware he was doing it, he held out a hand, his jaw dropping when he saw the barest outline of a scar on the side of his wrist, in the same spot as the little boy frozen in time.
"What did those things do to me?"
<<<>>>
Alex tapped her pencil impatiently on the edge of her open notebook, resting her chin in her hand. She'd lost track of how long it had been since she and Eric had kidnapped Lena, that she'd waited for the cops to barge in and drag her kicking and screaming back to juvie. Or prison. But she hadn't even been questioned about the bitch's disappearance.
Guess Stephanie took all the credit again.
Besides her obsessive crush on Jason, stealing credit was what Stephanie was best known for. Alex perked up when one of the heavy library doors groaned open, Lena straining against it as she stepped aside to let someone out. It had taken most of the day for the idiot to find the note Alex had slipped in her locker; she looked around before slinking off to a table by the windows, exactly where Alex had wanted her. She waited a few minutes before approaching, going over what she would say one last time. It was now or never. She plastered a shy smile on her face.
"Hey, mind if I sit here?"
Lena barely looked up from her paper, her eyes bright with shock.
"Yeah, sure," she pushed out the chair across from her with her foot. Alex sat down, reaching in her binder for the old sketch she'd stolen from the storage closet in the art room.
"Thanks, this spot has the best light," she bent over the picture, tracing the lines with a fine-tipped blue marker. The Aztec death mask and cracked conch shell almost looked like a black-and-white photograph.
"That's really good," Lena remarked after a while. "How long have you been drawing?"
Casually, Alex shifted her hand to cover the real artist's signature. He was long dead, anyway.
"Since I could hold a crayon," she leaned slightly forward. "What are you working on?"
"Ugh, another essay," Lena crossed out a word. "Mr. Del Rio's been assigning them every week this quarter."
Alex cringed in fake sympathy, then capped the marker and set it down. The picture was smudging, charcoal dust dyeing the side of her hand.
"You're dating Jason Vetra, right?"
Lena stopped writing.
"Sort of," she said. "Why?"
Alex shrugged one shoulder.
"I've overheard some people talking about it," she sighed inwardly. This was going to be even easier than she'd thought. "What do you mean, 'sort of'?"
Lena went back to her paper for a minute, then groaned and shoved it aside.
"I'll worry about it later," she muttered to herself, then turned to Alex. "I mean, we're not actually together or anything."
"That's good," time for the next piece to fall into place. "My sister dated him for a while their freshman year. He treated her like shit."
Lena twisted a loose lock of hair around her finger and tucked it behind her ear.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, he never hit her," Alex could barely keep a straight face. "But he was always lying to her, and he put her down so much that she really started believing she couldn't do anything right."
Lena shook her head.
"That doesn't sound anything like him, he's one of the nicest people I've ever met."
Alex nodded sagely.
"That's how it started with my sister. He pulled her in with the whole 'good guy' act, but as soon as they were together, he was criticizing everything she did."
Lena suddenly looked nervous.
"Who's your sister?"
"Emily Bradford," Alex nodded toward the wall behind the librarian's desk, where plaques were hung for students who'd died. Emily had been a pale, skinny blond with gray eyes and freckles, who'd always seemed to smile and scowl at the same time. Alex couldn't remember when she'd felt more excited than after her stupid big sister's death. She just wished Emily had managed to kill Jason that night, too. It would have made things so much easier.
She allowed herself the barest hint of a smile as she watched Lena struggle; she had to smother a laugh with a hand as the girl jumped up, sweeping her crap into her backpack.
"I-I'm so sorry about your sister," she managed quietly, then ran off, nearly bashing her nose on the door when she yanked it open. Alex let a few giggles out as she recalled the terrified look on Lena's face. This was going to be even more fun than she'd thought.
<<<>>>
Lena moaned sleepily, rubbing the grit from her eyes. The walls were pale yellow, almost taped over with posters of cartoon characters and comic book heroes, dolls and other toys scattered on the couches and tables lining the room. The play area in the children's ward at the hospital. Jason was sitting on the couch across from her, Lilly curled up in his lap, both of them smiling as he softly read The Ugly Duckling. Lilly noticed her staring and beamed at her.
"She's awake, Jason!"
Jason chuckled when she jumped down, closed the book and dropped it on the cushion next to him. He stood, grabbing a pair of Styrofoam cups from a small table by the arm.
"You missed breakfast, Lena," Lilly said, nearly hopping in place. "They had pancakes and Lucky Charms!"
Lena laughed, sat up and took the cup Jason offered her—lukewarm water. He put a hand on Lilly's head, her grin and eyes bright as she looked up at him.
"Chad and your mom will be here soon," he told her. "They said they had something special planned."
Lena didn't think the girl could get more excited, but she took off like a shot then, nearly bowling over the older nurse who'd come to get her.
"Hard to believe she was so sick just a few weeks ago," Jason mused when they were alone. She giggled when she saw the messy braid flung down his back, finished with a sparkly pink hair tie. He shot her a mildly peeved look before pulling it out, then carefully combed his fingers through his hair; it was even longer than when they'd met.
"You fell asleep pretty fast last night," he tossed the hair tie across the room. "I didn't think The Little Princess was that boring."
She stuck out her tongue.
"That story's always put me to sleep, my mom called it her fail-safe," she ignored the quick pang in her stomach. "I had no idea you were so good with little kids."
He shrugged, spinning his half-empty cup slowly between his hands.
"I've always loved working with them, especially when they're stuck in a place like this," he stretched out his leg and tugged up his jeans. A raised, faded scar cut a path up the side of his calf, and she realized she'd never seen him in shorts before.
"I was helping one of my aunts with her horses when a foal got loose. Her lead was tangled in a bush when I found her, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in this hospital," he fixed his pants. "She'd trampled my leg and almost shattered it."
Lena breathed sharply through her teeth.
"Sounds brutal."
"No kidding," he sat back and took a sip, grimacing at the taste of what smelled like cold coffee. "I'm stuck with all the plates and crap they used to fix it, though my dad actually considered getting it amputated at first."
She set the cup on her thigh and ran her hands through her hair, glancing around as she tried to stop thinking about the story that girl had told her, and all the other rumors she'd been stuck overhearing. Jason couldn't really be capable of all those things, could he?
"I have to go," she stood abruptly, not caring when her skirt got soaked. "Kara will kill me if I'm not locked in my room when she wakes up."
He looked disappointed.
"We're still on for tonight, though, right?"
She nodded stiffly, she'd almost forgotten about it.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure," she said quickly, unable to face him. "I-I'll see you then."
She took off, wishing she could just forget those stupid stories, and especially the pain she'd seen in Jason's eyes.
<<<>>>
Alex choked on the lump in her throat as she pulled out the chair. She unfolded the crinkled paper in hand and smoothed it out as best she could. She wasn't sure why she'd made note of everything that had happened with Lena since Stephanie's arrest, and part of her was wondering why she bothered to keep these meetings, since all she'd been getting from them was an ever-growing sense of guilt.
Stephanie's your friend, she tried to convince herself. She even took the rap for everything so you wouldn't have to.
She looked up when a door opened on the other side of glass, Stephanie striding in with her usual confidence and grace. Her long, beautiful black hair had been cropped to her chin, her gray eyes colder than ever. The cuffs at her wrist gleamed sharply against her pale skin, her prison uniform a pale blue sweat suit and fitted white tank top. She was silent as she sat down, her fingers peeling, nails bitten to the quick; she picked up the phone on her side, sitting still as a statue. Her scabbed lips twitched the slightest bit as Alex fumbled with her own phone.
"H-Hey, Stephanie," she tried to swallow her nerves. "How's it been going?"
She shivered when the other girl finally smiled, the look much more sinister than friendly.
"I can say I'm already in charge around here," she boasted. The burly guard at her back tugged uncomfortably at his collar, then cleared his throat. "How are things out there?"
Alex glanced down at her cheat sheet and quickly scanned it.
"Uh, nothing's really changed," she didn't see any point in lying. "Eric got his library plaque and painted rock, and our table's still waiting for you to come back."
Stephanie laughed.
"You guys can stop waiting," she said. "I'm not going back to that dump."
Her smile faded, and her eyes narrowed. She leaned in and lowered her voice.
"I take it that little slut is still all over Jason?"
Alex worked her fingers on the edges of the sheet, then nodded.
"Yeah, but it shouldn't be too much longer," she giggled, wondering if it sounded as terrified as she felt. "I fed her those stories like you told me to."
Stephanie sat back again, her lips now curled in a smirk.
"And she actually bought it?"
Alex snorted, trying to push her fear aside.
"She's even more gullible than you said she was. It was like taking candy from a baby."
Her stomach twisted a bit as the other girl's expression slowly changed. She could practically hear the gears turn inside Stephanie's head.
Hope she won't make me kidnap that bitch again, she thought. It was hard enough with that moron, Eric, around.
She kept trying to ignore the knot forming in her gut. Lena had brought all of it on herself, she deserved all the slander and other crap people threw at her. Getting wrapped up in another plot like that was just too much of a risk, especially now that she wouldn't have much backup.
She glanced at the man standing guard against the wall, his face gleaming with sweat, his posture unusually stiff. Stephanie pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and slid it across the narrow table, through a crack in the glass that was barely big enough to get it through.
"This is the last thing I want you to do, at least for now," she lowered her voice again. "Just call these guys, tell them it's time to pay for all those test answers I gave them."
She hung up, got to her feet and sauntered past the guard, who kept closely behind. Alex watched the door fall closed behind them, then looked down at the paper. Her jaw went slack—the names and numbers of the biggest assholes in school. She wondered what the hell Stephanie could be planning with them, then decided she really didn't want to know.
<<<>>>
Lena put down the brush, frowning at her reflection; she'd never been able to get her hair as soft or shiny as her mother could. She smoothed her hands over the front of her knee-length navy dress; the off-shoulder neckline and tiered skirt had been trickier than she'd thought, but at least the wine-red trim had been easy. Jason had texted her an hour ago, saying there'd be a small change to tonight. She put her hair in a bun, pinning it with the rhinestone pins Miranda had given her while she'd been recovering. It was the last time Lena had seen her, now that she thought about it.
And she still hasn't gotten back to me.
She glanced at her phone, peeking out of her beaded black clutch. Even a wet, shirtless picture of Jason hadn't been enough to make her friend respond.
Oh well, not much I can do about it now.
She finished her makeup, grabbed her jacket and stepped into her heels, heading downstairs as the doorbell rang. Jason smiled when he saw her, then leaned in to kiss her.
"You look amazing," he said, making her blush. He wore dark slacks, a thin gray sweater and deep blue blazer, his black dress shoes shined. His hair was in its usual ponytail, slung carelessly over his shoulder. "Ready to go?"
She locked the door behind her, then took his arm, the heat of his skin through his sleeve sending her mind to the gutter. Her blush deepened, and she turned to the curb, stopping when she saw the idling limo, a uniformed older man waiting behind the wheel with a patient smile.
"It was nonna's idea," Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not a problem, is it?"
She shook her head.
"Of course not," she giggled. "I've always wanted to ride in one!"
He chuckled, holding open the back door before climbing in next to her. She moved to the other end of the glossy dark leather seat at they got going, staring out the open window at the moonless, star-studded sky. She shook her head when he held out a hand.
"I'm sorry, Jason," she muttered, not fully facing him. "I know I'm acting weird—"
"Because you can't stop thinking about all those stupid rumors about me," he finished blandly. She winced.
"I know it's all crap," she tried to explain. "And I thought I could just keep ignoring it, but it got stuck in my head and now I can't forget it."
He looked at her, a little regretfully, then sighed.
"I'm not blaming you, Lena," he said. "I know I didn't treat Emily like I should have, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't still blame myself for what happened. I knew she was unstable, but I never thought it'd get…that bad."
Who could have, she wondered. She nearly fell off the seat when the limo jerked to an uneven stop. The window across from them rolled down, then the engine went quiet.
"We've got a flat, sir," the chauffeur had a light Jamaican accent. "But I don't know what we might have hit."
Jason glanced outside, his posture stiff. The streets were unusually empty for so early in the evening, and it was making Lena nervous.
"We'll help change it," she blurted, knowing Jason would have offered anyway, it was just how he was. She climbed out after him, reaching in the trunk for the jack while he and the driver struggled a bit with the spare tire. Her blood went cold when she saw the damage, the heavy jack falling to the road as her hands shook. "Oh, God…"
"What's wrong?" Jason dropped the spare on the curb, his eyes going wide when he saw the hole torn in the tire. "Shit…"
There was a loud shuffle, a blow landed, a man grunted. Jason grabbed Lena's hand, pulling her behind him as the chauffeur dropped to the ground. Blood ran to the gutter from his broken nose. A tall, bulky man stepped out from the alley, Lena shivering when she saw how the streetlights reflected in his cold brown eyes, glinting off his wide, nasty smile.
"Nice piece you got there," he chuckled and strolled forward. "Mind if I try her out?"
Jason stepped further in front of her, tense like he was ready for a fight.
"That's not what you're really after," he stated bluntly. Lena felt her skin prickle, like the air was suddenly charged, and it only got worse when the man laughed. It was one of the coldest sounds she'd ever heard.
"You don't have to know about that," he said, that cruel smirk still in place. "You just need to keep up."
Lena grunted as Jason pushed her against the wall, barely catching the man's wrist. Her blood froze when she saw the wicked knife in his grip, the end of the handle stained with blood. Jason twisted sharply, and the weapon clattered to the sidewalk. He kicked it away, then slammed a fist into the man's stomach.
"I don't think that'll be a problem."
He dodged a furious blow, stepped in and jammed an elbow into the man's temple, then shoved him back, a ringing thud resounding as his head cracked against a light pole. The man slumped to the ground, and actually had the sense to stay down. Jason knelt, whipped off the man's belt and lashed his wrists to the pole.
"All right," he stood and brushed off his hands. "Now to get the rest of this mess cleaned up."
He went to the driver, looking groggy as he sat on the curb, a wad of white cloth pressed to his nose. Lena helped haul the bleeding man to his feet, wincing when she thought about the black eyes he'd be sporting for the next few weeks.
"At least the hospital's on the next block," she commented, pulling her jacket closer around her. It was cooler than she'd thought it would be tonight. "But what are we going to do about all this?"
She nodded to the limo as they passed, then glanced back at the other man, who was quietly groaning. Where the hell had he even come from?
"Let's get him taken care of first," Jason kept a hand on the driver's shoulder to steady him. "I want to make sure his nose isn't broken."
She looked behind them again, wondering what could have caused that kind of damage to the tire, a gasp getting caught in her throat when she saw the guy was already gone.
<<<>>>
Lena settled on the black futon in Jason's basement, holding her knees tightly to her chest and feeling tiny in the shirt he'd lent her. His driver had ended up with a fractured nose, and she'd had to look away as it was packed. His wife, a cafeteria worker who'd just finished her shift, had insisted on giving them a lift home, after making sure they'd had something to eat, of course. Jason had asked if she'd wanted to be dropped at her house, chuckling at how quickly she'd blurted that she would rather stay with him. She turned to the pale gray partition he had slipped behind to change, remembering how easily he had fought that guy off.
"I've never seen anybody take someone down that fast," she said, loudly enough for him to hear. He stepped out, pulling a faded blue baseball shirt over his head. She licked her lips at the sight of his abs, more defined than her last glimpse, frowning when she saw the large bandage peeking over the lip of his pajama pants. What could that have been from?
"I told you how long I've taken kickboxing," he leaned against the arm of the futon, looking down at her. "And I've gotten in more than one fight with my cousins."
She giggled, rubbing the scrapes on her elbow from when she'd hit the wall.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she said quietly. "I know I shouldn't listen to that crap."
"It's fine," he sat next to her, then rubbed the back of his neck. "And those rumors are part of why I was so hesitant, I knew a lot of people at school would start shoving them down your throat if I got with you. It happened to Emily, too."
She pulled her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it; it had always helped calm her down.
"Did you know that guy?" she asked. "He sure seemed to know you."
He shook his head.
"I wasn't paying attention, I was more focused on trying to keep him away from you."
She pressed her lips together, looking at him through her bangs. His face had the same neutral expression as always, his fingers drumming restlessly on his thigh as he got lost in thought. She swallowed.
"Do you think they'll ever catch whoever's behind those murders?"
He was quiet a while longer, then sighed heavily.
"I don't know," he crossed his arms. "This isn't even the first time the guy's come around, but it's not like they had any better luck then."
She brushed her hair back, then scooted closer, curling up against his side with her head on his shoulder. He cupped her cheek, put an arm around her and started kissing her. A warm shiver hit her spine when he pulled her flush against him.
"He'd never get near you," he whispered resolutely, his lips all but pressed to hers. "I promise."
<<<>>>
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he could barely hear his own voice, crouched in the shadows by the narrow basement window. He tried to ignore the pain in his heart when Jason brushed Lena's bangs aside, and he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. He bit down hard on his lip, not bothering to hide the anger as he finished the report. "And they're looking pretty damn cozy."
The boss hummed thoughtfully.
"I wouldn't worry about it too much," the man tried to assure him. After all the time he'd spent with the agency, he still couldn't figure the guy out. He couldn't tell if the man actually cared, or if he just saw his agents as tools. What the hell was his end game? "They'll both be gone soon enough."
He looked through the window again, his chest tightening when he saw how happy Lena was in Jason's arms. It should have been him down there with her, it should never have happened this way!
"But what happens when he figures it out? You know he'll try to stop us."
"I doubt he'll live long enough to," the boss answered. "And he'd only be making things harder for himself if he did, considering he's even more tangled in all this than we are."
"Right…" he shoved out a breath, turned off the bluetooth and dropped it in his coat pocket. Lena was just an innocent bystander for now, but he knew Jason would tell her the truth eventually, either cracking from the stress of keeping such a secret, or because she stumbled across the truth herself. Either way, it would mean he'd have to kill her, his gut twisting just at the thought of it.
It was one of the few times he wished he'd been reborn as one of the heartless experiments he was fighting so hard to protect. He shuddered, remembering the tour of the labs he'd been forced to endure as a new agent, when he'd had to watch the end of the process that created those vile creatures.
The overly eager scientists guiding him had been all too happy to explain that they were going to change how wars were fought, that soft, fragile humans were going to be completely removed from the battlefield. He'd fled to his small apartment as soon as he'd been able to and had spent the rest of that night vomiting into the toilet. Things had only gotten worse from there, as he had learned the rest of that hellish process—the injections, the surgeries, the brainwashing. And that was still just the beginning.
I can't let her get any more mixed up in this, he focused back on the window. Lena was still curled up against Jason's side, ignorant of just what she'd chosen to get close to. Now she was trapped with him in the crosshairs, and he knew from experience that she could never really get out.
I still have to try and stop this, he pushed himself to his numb feet, staggering through the dark backyard and into the woods standing guard behind the street. Before any more innocent people get killed.