Chapter Three
MIA
The first was that everyone in the building seemed to believe six in the morning was a perfectly reasonable time to be conscious.
The second was that if I wanted even a chance of using the bathroom without negotiating around another human being, I needed to get there before the men who had spent years treating communal showers like a basic feature of civilized life.
The alarm vibrated against the metal desk before the sound had a chance to start.
I reached across the narrow gap from the bed, silenced it and sat up slowly, hair falling across my face in a thick mess that had escaped the loose knot I’d put it in before sleeping.
The room was still dark enough that the gray t-shirt I had slept in looked almost black, and the hem had twisted around my waist sometime during the night, leaving one side of my black sleep shorts exposed higher on my thigh than the other.
For a few seconds I stayed there, listening.
Nothing.
No Jackal accusing somebody of cheating, no voices in the hallway. I took a deep breath and smiled.
Finally.
I grabbed my toiletries, tucked a clean set of clothes under one arm, opened the door as quietly as I could and looked around. The corridor lights hummed overhead, casting the same institutional glow across the concrete walls, and the bathroom door at the far end stood partially open.
That should have been my warning.
I pushed it open, disregarding my better judgment, and stopped.
Jackal was standing at the center sink in black boxer briefs and absolutely nothing else, brushing his teeth with one hand while using the other to comb damp fingers through his hair.
A towel had been thrown over one shoulder but appeared to be serving no practical purpose.
Water still ran down his back from the shower, tracing over the mix of tattoos that spread across his shoulder blades, climbed up his neck and continued down his sides before disappearing beneath the waistband of his underwear.
He saw me in the mirror and neither of us moved as foam covered one corner of his mouth.
“Morning,” he said around the toothbrush.
I took one step backward into the hallway. Jackal looked down at himself as though only now realizing there might be an issue, then looked back at me.
“What?”
“You own pants.”
He glanced toward the row of lockers. “Yes.”
“This feels like the part where you use them.”
A voice came from one of the showers.
“Those are underwear, mate.”
Raven. I closed my eyes for a second. Raven was in here too.
Jackal pointed his toothbrush toward the shower curtain. “They cover everything legally required.”
“That is not the standard we’re using,” I said.
Raven laughed from behind the curtain, then immediately said, “Wait, where is my shampoo?”
Jackal went back to brushing his teeth.
“Jackal...”
He made an exaggerated sound of confusion through the toothpaste.
“You used it yesterday.”
Jackal shook his head.
As if he could clearly see Jackal’s movement, Raven replied, “But I watched you take it.”
Another shake.
“It smells like coconuts. You came downstairs smelling like me.”
Jackal spit into the sink and rinsed his mouth before answering. “Maybe you came downstairs smelling like me.”
There was a brief silence from the shower.
“I hate you.”
“Oh honey, I hate when we argue,” Jackal replied.
Raven pulled the curtain aside just far enough to stick one wet arm out and give him the middle finger.
I started laughing before I could help it, and the more I tried to pull it back under control, the worse it got. Jackal just stood there watching me, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“See? Morale. I told everyone I contribute.”
I stepped into the bathroom and set my clothes on the driest corner of the bench. “Your contribution is apparently public indecency before sunrise.”
I kept my eyes averted from him completely.
“Private facility.”
“Shared bathroom.”
“Still private property.”
I turned to look at him.
“Put on pants. Please.”
He turned to me, bracing both hands on the sink behind him and tipping his chin up like he had absolutely no problem being looked at.
His body was leaner than Wolf’s but cut hard through the shoulders and stomach, with defined muscle running down into the sharp V of his hips before disappearing beneath the waistband of his briefs.
Tattoos covered enough of him that I kept finding new pieces the longer I looked. A black-and-gray dragon curled over one shoulder and down across his ribs, broken up by smaller designs and lines of Korean lettering worked into the rest of the ink.
My eyes drifted lower before I could pretend they hadn’t. Two words were tattooed in English low over his hip bones, one on either side.
USE
ME
I stared at them for a second, then looked back up at him. “That feels less like a tattoo and more like a set of instructions.”
Jackal’s mouth pulled into a slow grin.
Just then, the door opened behind me, and Hawk slipped through carrying a small toiletry bag. He moved around me, opened a locker, took out deodorant and closed it again with barely a sound.
I turned.
“Where did you come from?”
Hawk paused. “Hallway.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“I know.”
He left.
Jackal watched the door close and nodded thoughtfully. “He does that.”
“It’s unsettling.”
“You get used to it.”
“Everyone keeps saying that about things I have no intention of getting used to.”
A fourth person appeared in the doorway.
Viper.
His shorter blond hair was flattened on one side from sleep, and his expression suggested consciousness itself had offended him. He looked at me, then Jackal in his underwear, then the closed shower curtain hiding Raven.
“Too many people,” he said in a tired voice.
“Finally,” I replied. “A reasonable person.”
Viper walked to the sink beside Jackal. “You’re also here.”
“Never mind.”
He turned on the water. I picked up my shampoo and headed toward the last stall.
“If anyone else walks in, I’m filing a complaint.”
Jackal leaned his hip against the sink. “With who?”
I stopped. I had no answer for that before Wolf appeared in the open doorway.
He was already dressed in black tactical pants and a fitted charcoal shirt, a plain black covering hiding the lower half of his face while his dark hair remained exposed.
It had not yet been wrestled fully into the zig-zag headband he wore around the compound, leaving several thick waves loose around his forehead.
He took in the room once, from Raven behind the shower curtain to Viper at the sink, before landing on Jackal nearly naked beside me. Nothing about his expression changed.
I pointed at Jackal. “This. This is why I wanted a lock.”
Wolf looked at him.
Jackal lifted one hand and smiled. “Morning.”
Wolf’s attention returned to me. “It’s the bathroom.”
“I’m aware.”
“Use it.”
“There is a nearly naked man brushing his teeth three feet from me.”
Jackal looked down again. “Nearly is doing a lot of work there.”
“Shut up.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed slightly, though I couldn’t tell whether that was directed at me or Jackal.
“You asked for a lock already,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You got an answer.”
Then he turned and walked away with that same deliberate fucking rhythm I’d already begun recognizing through walls.
I stared after him.
“I hate him.”
Jackal picked up his towel. “It’s becoming your morning affirmation.”
“Pants.”
He saluted with the towel and finally headed for the door.
Raven called from the shower, “Take my shampoo out of your locker while you’re at it!”
“No idea what you’re talking about, honey.”
“Thief.”
Jackal disappeared into the hallway wearing less clothing than anyone should have while maintaining that much confidence.
Viper stared at his reflection.
“Loud,” he muttered.
I pulled the shower curtain closed behind me. “You could all live separately.”
“No,” Viper said.
“Why?”
He thought about it for a moment.
“Rent.”
I laughed into my towel.
By the time I finished showering, the bathroom had emptied enough that getting dressed only required checking the doorway twice.
I pulled on black training leggings and a fitted black quarter-zip that hugged close through my waist without feeling restrictive, then laced the trail shoes I’d brought because Raven had specifically warned me not to wear anything I minded ruining.
My hair had partially dried into loose waves while I got ready, so I gathered most of it into a high ponytail and left several shorter pieces around my face rather than fighting them.
I looked considerably more prepared for a fitness class than an international counter-trafficking unit.
That would have to do.
When I came downstairs, Bear was already cooking.
At some point he had decided feeding six armed men and one newly imported analyst every morning was easier than allowing any of us to fend for ourselves.
The smell of butter and onions had replaced yesterday’s eggs, and a skillet full of potatoes occupied one side of the hot plate while another pan held something that looked suspiciously like enough food for a small wedding.
Jackal was fully dressed now, which I considered a personal victory. He had claimed his usual chair and was pouring hot sauce onto his plate with enough enthusiasm that Bear eventually reached over and took the bottle away.
“That’s food,” Bear said.
“I know. I’m improving it.”
“You’re hiding it.”
“Next time I need kimchi.”
Raven sat across from him with coffee and a piece of toast, his curls still damp from the shower. Viper had yogurt again and Hawk stood near the counter eating another apple.
I sat down beside Raven.
“I’m starting a petition.”
“For what?”
“Bathroom reform.”
Jackal immediately shook his head. “Denied.”
“You were in your underwear.”
“I was dressed.”
Viper looked at him. “You weren’t.”
Jackal pointed toward Viper, “No wonder you’re named after a snake.”
Bear placed a plate in front of me. “Eat before you start a revolution.”
“That’s how governments control people.”
“Potatoes?”
“Exactly.”