Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Owen was going to have to tell Grace something. She’d been a good sport about everything, rolling with the conversation even though she didn’t always understand. He could see the confusion in her eyes.
After dessert, most of the group migrated to the living room, where the big fire blazed in the hearth. They talked smack and played, and Grace could see how invested they were in each other. There were no cliques or awkward silences when someone joined them. They all seemed to get along. She even saw Cookie laughing with a couple of men near the bar. Owen had crossed the room to get her a drink, but he’d been pulled into some kind of debate.
There was one very odd situation where it looked like the men were talking, but their mouths weren’t moving. Their hands did, like they were speaking passionately about something, but there was no sound. They weren’t using ASL, she knew that, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what they were doing.
Angela sank down onto the couch beside her, drawing her attention. “Aiden took Fallon over to the cabin to bed. It’s been a long day for her.”
“Did she have fun unwrapping her presents?”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Making a mess, you mean? Yes, she did. In little tiny bits.”
Grace laughed. “Seems like most of the day at my parent’s house is cleaning up after the kids.”
Angela nodded, tipping her head back against the couch. “Obviously, she doesn’t understand Christmas, but she did understand it got her new toys.”
Grace snorted, but something sad rolled across Angela’s expression. Tears filled her eyes, making Grace reach out to touch her arm. “What’s wrong?”
Angela shook her head, swiping at her cheeks. “It’s just been a lot recently.”
“Well, yeah. A move is always hard, and I assume this is a new job. Those are big changes, and then Christmas on top of it. That would be a lot for anybody.”
Something in Angela’s eyes said it was something else, though. She shook her head, reaching for Grace’s hands. “There’s more to this group,” she said, nodding her head toward the men. “When Owen talks to you tonight, just keep in mind that they’re all just men, in a terrible situation.”
“Okay,” Grace agreed, now beyond curious.
Then Angela gave her a tight hug and left. Grace watched her go, wondering what the hell was going on.
Owen returned with her drink. “This is the only Moscato we have, but it’s not bad.”
She took a sip and nodded. “This is perfect.”
“Did Angela leave,” he asked as he sank down into the couch, beer bottle in hand.
“Yes. I think she was a little stressed. I assume she went home.”
Owen frowned. “It has been a lot on them this week.”
“She said when you talk to me tonight I need to remember that these are just men,” she said, and watched his reaction.
Owen’s eyes narrowed a little, and he sighed. His thumbnail flicked at the beer bottle label, and he looked out at the group. “I had a really good time with you last night. But I probably should have talked to you first and explained some things. I think we got caught up in the emotion from the wedding…”
“Possibly,” Grace said, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d been having a good time tonight, but Owen’s expression had changed. It had gone dark, like when she’d first met him. “Why don’t you explain what you wanted to tell me last night?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “It can’t leave this room, Grace. You can’t tell your brothers or your best friend. You can’t tell your preacher. Because if you do, Fallon could be kidnapped or killed.”
Grace gaped at him, her mouth hanging open. “What?” she said faintly. The thought of that precious baby being taken, and Angela’s potential devastation, brought instant tears to her eyes.
“This is truly a matter of national security,” Owen said, his iron gray eyes as hard as she’d ever seen them, “and I’m not just saying that to be theatrical. I will tell you my story, but you have to swear that no matter how our relationship proceeds, you cannot repeat a word of this to anyone else. I know it’s too early in our relationship to ask you for any kind of commitment, but I have to. You have to swear to me that you will hold our confidence.”
Grace blinked, wondering if she should bail now, before the water got too deep. He seemed to sense that she was actually thinking about leaving, because he took a swig of beer, as if he needed the distraction, before he continued. “If it’s too soon, just say no. I can run you down the mountain and we never need to see each other again.”
The mere thought of never seeing him again gutted her. It made her physically ill, and the glass trembled in her hand. He was throwing a lot at her all at once. Owen retrieved the glass and set it on the table in front of them, along with his beer. Then he sat back in the cushion, without looking at her. He gave her time to think about what he’d said.
Could she turn away and never see him again? Never be loved by him again? Or even worse, see him on the street and have him turn away from her as if he didn’t know her? The thought was terrible. She’d spent probably less than thirty hours with him, total, in all their interactions. Owen appealed to her so strongly that she’d stepped out of her comfort zone and asked him out. Was she ready to get married and have kids? Hell, no, but she definitely felt strongly enough about him to want to pursue more.
Last night, making love with him, it had been a revelation. One she was still dealing with. Yes, she’d been with other men, but not of them had made her feel the way Owen did. He was protective and kind despite his gruffness, and so damn sexy her mouth watered just thinking about dancing her fingers down those abs again…
Did he enjoy last night as much as she had? She’d thought so, but he hadn’t said a word about last night at all. Actually, he’d retreated a little, like he didn’t necessarily even want her here. Or like she was more trouble than she was worth.
Maybe he was just worrying about what he had to tell her about the men.
She hoped that was what it was.
The fact that she was up here on Christmas meant more than he probably understood. The Lane family usually hung out all day, until there were kids sleeping on couches and the food was all gone. When she’d told her family she was leaving early, they’d gawked at her. The thought was inconceivable. She’d given her mother a look, though, and that had been enough for her to call everyone off Grace’s case.
Well, almost everyone.
“I bet it’s for that tall sex stick in the black hat,” Finley, her younger sister, said. She was in college in Raleigh, and they’d all heard about Finley’s exploits, usually from Finley herself. A few of those exploits had followed her home over the years.
Grace had only snorted, because she’d thought of Owen that way herself a time or two. “That would be a good bet,” she’d said, winking at her sister. If there was a chance she could climb Owen The Stick, she would jump on it. Him. The mere thought warmed her in deliciously naughty ways.
That had set off her family all over again, but she’d laughed as she’d left. Her mother had winked at her, and mimed calling her later.
Now, though, things had taken a turn. She’d wanted to feel out the night and see how things rolled, but his attitude had chilled. She wanted the soft, rumpled, sexy Owen, but this was the ball-buster, compound manager Black.
All thoughts of fun had washed away. He was dead serious, and the look in his eyes told her that even though they’d shared an amazing night, he would walk away from her if it meant protecting his men.
She could only admire that.
“I don’t want you to run me down the mountain,” she said, and even hearing the words made her throat tighten with emotion. “I will hold your confidence.”
Owen closed his eyes for the barest second, and Grace was glad to see that. It was the first visible crack in his coldness. “Thank you, Grace. I feel like… well, I want to get to know you better.”
“I want to get to know you, too, Owen.” Her throat was tight, and she barely got the words out.
Then, somehow, his hand was wrapped around hers, and he was tugging her up from the couch. He led her from the room, and Grace was very conscious of everyone watching them as they left.
Owen led her down a hallway and into what looked like the private bedroom section of the lodge. There were doors all along the hallway. He led her to the one at the end on the right.
“I hope you don’t mind coming in here,” he said, motioning her through the door. “I haven’t talked to anyone about this for a long time, and we need some privacy.”
Owen lived in a kind of mini-suite. It had a little couch seating area, with a big, dusty TV on the wall, obviously unused. There was a comfortable armchair over by the window, with a stack of books near the leg. What did he like to read? The walls were bare, though, and it barely looked lived in.
Grace crossed to the window. It looked down over the water tumbling down the mountain. “Oh. What a beautiful spot,” she said, voice soft.
Owen seemed… restless. Anxious. Grace returned to the couch and sank down, just waiting. Curiosity ate at her, but he was obviously on edge. He could take his time.
Owen didn’t even know where to start. He’d been with people who knew his history for the past three years, and in that time, he hadn’t told anyone about what had happened to him in the jungles of Brazil.
“I didn’t like school,” he said, sinking down into the corner of the couch, facing Grace. “I was more of a hands-on kind of guy. So, when I got out of high-school, I felt like the Army was a better decision for me than college. I loved it. At some point, I tested into the special forces, and some time after that, I transferred into the psychological operations unit of the Army. I’ve always been detail oriented, and managing people comes naturally to me. Psyops gave me tools to use against our enemy. It was a perfect fit for my skill set.”
He drew in a deep breath, thinking about that time in his life. He’d had no idea how incredible his life had been at that point, and how quickly he would lose his humanity.
“A few of us were approached by a group that was doing government-sanctioned testing to create super-soldiers. There was a big bonus to participate, and they offered us a chance to do psychological warfare in a completely different way. There’s a plant in the Amazon jungle called ayahuasca. Shamans have been using it for generations to open the mind and receive premonitions and visions of the future.”
“Like peyote for the indigenous peoples.”
Owen nodded. “Exactly. Supposed to open the pathways of the brain to make anything possible. Anyway, this doctor had refined the serum and modified it, and he got enough backing from the government to test on American soldiers, as well as soldiers from other countries. Not just any soldiers, but the best of the best. SEALs, Green Berets, South African Special Forces, German Kommando Spezialkr?fte, Polish GROM, British Special Boat Service. They built it up to be prestigious to be in the Spartan program, and the other countries were falling all over themselves to throw their men into the program.”
He glanced out the window. Snow had started to fall in thick, chunky flakes. Grace might be stuck up here whether or not she wanted to be.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
He cleared his raspy throat. It was hard talking this much. “I didn’t think anything would happen. It seemed so far-fetched. But eventually, it did. There were some initial successes stateside, but the treatments were dangerous. People died. To avoid the FDA, Dr. Shu did his testing in countries he could buy off. Brazil, Guyana, Mexico, to name a few. When the men protested their treatment, they were drugged and placed in cages they’d prepared ahead of time for us. Then they did whatever they wanted.”
Without even looking at her, he could feel Grace’s shock and horror. Feeling emotions wasn’t his strongest ability, but with her, it was very easy, and he knew she wanted to reach out. He wasn’t ready for that, yet.
Pushing up out of the couch, he started pacing the length of the room. “The drug didn’t react to every soldier the same way, though. Some men developed mental abilities, and some developed physical abilities. It seemed like if you had a natural inclination, it built on that to some extent. And then other men, it didn’t do anything other than drive them insane. Those men were ‘graduated’ out of the program and we never saw them again.”
Owen paused at the window, trying to remind himself to be clinical about what happened. It was a long time ago, and it didn’t need to affect him any more.
Even though he lived with the effects every single day.
“So it worked,” she asked faintly.
“Oh, yes, it definitely worked.”
He glanced at Grace for the first time. Her beautiful face was tight with tension, and her arms were crossed over her middle, like she was cold, but she seemed to be holding it together well. Crossing to the mini-fridge, he grabbed a bottle of water, snapped the cap and drank half of it down, cooling his throat. There was no easy way to tell her the next bit.
“Dr. Shu could test the physical abilities, but he didn’t know how to test for the mental abilities. Sometimes he would ‘motivate’ us with pain for a reaction to see what we could do. If we objected or fought back, he thought we needed more pain. Or his people did. Shu was off his rocker, crazy. But he’d gained enough results to get backers and followers to satisfy the government. There were several modifications to the serum, though, and they didn’t all work the same. None seemed to work as well as the first initial serum. Aiden and Fontana got it. I got it. Several of us up here on the mountain got it.” He paused at the window again, reminding himself where he was. Grounding himself.
“They didn’t have ways to measure the mental abilities, so they focused more on the physical. They would inject us with illnesses to see if we recovered, and broke our bones to time our healing ability. My legs have been broken several times. My back was broken twice.”
Owen felt the swirl of anger and horror from the couch, but he couldn’t look at her yet.
“Aiden and a few other guys managed to manipulate some of the guards and escape. It was a while before they were able to send help, though. I, personally, was in a cage for almost two years.”
Grace gasped behind him, and he felt her launch off the couch and head toward him. She stopped beside him, just a hair away, and caught his gaze. “Are you fucking serious?”
Owen grinned slightly. In all the time he’d interacted with her, he’d never known her to cuss. “I am serious. Shu was killed by a jungle snake, but there were enough people to take over his work after he died. They didn’t have the same insight he did, though, and the testing turned into torture and starvation camps. Crash said something to you about food. When there was no oversight, our captors would funnel the money away into their own pockets, only feeding us enough to keep us alive. Food is important to us, because we’ve been without. Some of us for a very long time.”
“And the government was okay with this?”
Owen shrugged slightly. “The government had written us off, pretty much. By that time, the program was backed by a private company, the Silverstone Collaborative. The owner banked on selling the serum across the world to create super soldiers for anyone who could afford them. Like I said, though, the serums weren’t all the same, and the quality went down, especially after Shu died.”
“You were in a cage for two years,” she repeated, her voice incredulous. Her pretty golden eyes were glossy, like she wanted to cry.
“Yes. I went in after Aiden and the others had escaped. Didn’t know anything about them at the time. Drake Fontana eventually rescued us, and Jordyn flew us out of the jungle. We were taken to Virginia, where we were rehabilitated.”
“By the government?”
Owen snorted. “No. Funnily enough, by the ex-wife of the man who ran the Silverstone Collaborative. Her name is Elizabeth. She’s a doctor, and she’s fantastic. Actually, she married one of the men who initially escaped.”
Grace blinked, and he could feel the incredulity rolling from her. It was a crazy story, but every word had been the truth. “You’re handling this pretty well,” he said, glancing at her.
“I’m assimilating the information. There’s a lot.”
Owen quirked a brow in agreement and downed the rest of his water. He dropped the plastic in the recycle bin. “And I’ve only told you the bare bones,” he murmured.
“What is your ability,” she asked, eyes narrowing a little. “You haven’t been reading my mind for the past several months, have you?”
He watched her for a long moment, long enough that her cheeks started to go pink. One side of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “No, I don’t read minds, although I do get impressions of feelings sometimes. I’m a little stronger, physically, than average. My talents lay in details, though. I notice things that no one ever would.”
She lifted her brows skeptically. “Like…”
“Like… You have 138 eyelashes on your right upper lid, and 142 on your left. Your heart rate rests at about 58 beats per minute, but when you climax, it speeds up to 100-110. I notice endless, tedious details that stay in my head a very long time. When we got coffee two days ago, the girl shorted me thirteen cents at checkout, but I didn’t say anything. The front right tire of my truck is low on pressure by two pounds.” He shrugged. “Things that make me an excellent planner and organizer. And overload my brain with tedium I can’t not think about.”
He glanced at her. There was a slight smile on her lips as she looked at him. “100 to 110, huh?”
Owen matched her slight smile. “Yes. And your temperature goes up a whole degree.”
She cocked her head at him. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“You used fourteen different colors in my hatband,” he said, and reached for the hat to hand it to her. She waved him off.
“You’re right, I did. How many beads did I use?”
Owen blinked and spun the hat, looking at the band. “Two thousand, eight hundred beads. There are three hundred and fifty rows and eight beads in each row. The hat is six and a half ounces heavier since you gave me the band.”
Grace stared at him for a long time, and he wondered if he’d finally freaked her out.
“Can you turn it off?” she asked.
“I wish. I can muffle it sometimes, usually with hard physical labor, but not for very long.”
“And how does this pertain to the baby?”
Owen frowned. “We’ve been under scrutiny by a lot of different governments and factions, including our own. When we took the drug, it changed us on a chromosomal level. Aiden is one of the strongest of us, and he’s also the first to have a baby. Everyone wants to know if he passed on those chromosomal changes and if the baby is as special as he is. There have been several kidnapping attempts, and men have died protecting her.”
Grace cocked her head. “And is she?”
He stared at her for a long second, wondering if he was doing the right thing. It felt so foreign to spill out all these details they’d kept close for so long. He wanted to trust Grace, though.
“Yes,” he said, and watched her face.
Grace didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she turned to him and lifted a hand to his throat. “Did they do this to you?”
Emotion threatened, and he swallowed. “Yes,” he rasped. “The drug helps us repair a lot of things, but some of them just liked to make us scream. It permanently damaged my vocal chords.”
Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his throat, and it took everything in him to hold still, to not grab her and wrap her up. She needed to make the decision whether to be with them, and he wasn’t going to force her in any way.
Grace stepped back and looked up at him. “I need to think about everything you’ve told me. Can you run me down the mountain, please?”
Owen tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. He tried to take her words at face value, but he could see a coolness settling into her expression. “Yes, I can. I’ll go warm the truck up while you get ready.”