Ben - The woman thinks
My phone buzzed. I glanced down to see that Coleson sent me a bunch of laughing-cry faces, which told me he knew all about my little jog this morning. I quickly texted him back to shut the fuck up.
I shook my head and tried to listen to the meeting. They were going over safety plans for the school, and this was probably the only topic I actually took an interest in. Maggie, on the other hand, looked like she wasn’t paying a lick of attention. She kept gabbing with her blonde friend. If I were the principal, I would’ve ordered them to change seats… And I would’ve stolen each pen Maggie picked up. Because if she wasn’t talking, she was doodling. Each piece of paper I stole from her over the next hour was covered in intricate designs. They were beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but they were evidence of her lack of interest in safety. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.
A guy in his mid-twenties with brown hair and a decent build that told me he was probably an athlete at some point in the past, joined their table.
During a break in the meeting, I pulled up a chair to their table and plopped down.
“Mark, this is Ben.” Maggie said, wagging her hand between us. “Ben, Mark.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mark said, extending a hand to me, which I took. I could tell he was sizing me up, but I had about a decade of life and muscle on the guy. “I’m a History guy and football coach.”
“Has to tell everyone he’s a coach,” the blonde quipped, rolling her eyes. “I’m Kelly by the way.”
I gave her a nod.
“So you’re a security guy?” Mark asked with an easy grin.
“Security guy?” I asked dryly, arching an eyebrow at Maggie.
She shrugged her small shoulders. “What should I call you?” she mumbled out the side of her mouth.
I shifted uneasily in my seat. “Well, as a security guy, I can say you guys need new plans.” I threw down the handouts that I completely marked up with new directions. “Read those,” I told Maggie, then lifted out of my seat to have a few words with the administration.
For the next hour, I kept part of my attention on Maggie, continuously surveyed the room, and spoke with the administration about new security plans.
The administration was surprisingly receptive to my ideas, and I was glad to be going over security because it was much more stimulating to me than the older woman at the front of the room going over health emergencies. Every agent had to go through medic training each year, so I could practically lead this discussion if necessary.
At one point in her presentation, the older woman passed around a bunch of epipens so she could go over the directions more thoroughly.
I was busy reading over a couple other contingency plans the admin team asked me to take a look at when Maggie popped out of her seat.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she scurried over to me, worry lines creasing her face. She wrung her fingers together, making my chest feel tight. Something was off. Majorly off. I quickly scanned the room over her head for any potential threats.
“Ben.” Her voice wavered. I continued searching our surroundings. She grabbed my arm and her touch seared into me. I stared at our point of contact, not exactly wanting to shake her off– a first for me. “Ben.” Her voice was full of panic.
“What? What happened?” I tried to read her face.
She frantically shook her head and whispered, “What if…” She swallowed hard and her shoulders scrunched up. Anxiety built up in my chest. I wanted to take her shoulders and shake her to make her spit it out. “What if… I stuck myself with an epipen?”
I stared at her.
A breath of relief punched out of me as I looked at her strangely. She was all worked up and coming over here to ask a hypothetical question? “What if ?” I repeated incredulously.
Her face stayed tense as she slowly nodded and busied herself chewing on her lower lip. “What would happen?”
Realization set in. I had to rub my jaw to cover my face, to cover the fact that I was dying of laughter inside. “You didn’t.”
“I-I-I… I think I did. I think I stuck myself,” she stammered out, her green eyes still serious.
My eyes shut and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, but my body shook, giving me away.
“Stop it, Ben,” she hissed. “I’m serious.” She went to shove me with her casted wrist. I quickly sidestepped so she swatted air.
“You’re too fast. That’s annoying,” she pouted as I continued trying to control my laughing. “Stop. I hate when people laugh at me.” She went to push me again. This time I caught her cast as gently as I could.
“Let’s not forget that’s the hurt one,” I warned her, eyeing the cast, then a chuckle rolled out of me. She wasn’t serious about this, was she? She had to be though. She was practically trembling– and that was either panic or the effects of the epinephrine already skating through her little system.
“What do I do?” she whispered urgently, looking up at me like I could fix this for her, and that kind of sobered me.
Sighing, I asked, “You think you stuck yourself? Or you did?” Just saying it aloud had me struggling to keep it together again. She just snarled at me and went to stomp away, but I caught her good wrist. “Sorry, it’s just… How do you not know? You’d kinda feel it, Maggie.”
“Shhh!” Her eyes darted around us. “I’m embarrassed. They gave a tester and a real one, and I think… I think I mixed them up.” A panicky hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in panic. “I need help, Ben. Are you gonna help me or not?”
I immediately felt like a dick, because she was clearly freaked out of her mind and needed someone to calm her down, not laugh at her.
“You’ll be fine,” I coaxed, trying to think back through my medic training. No one I knew ever stuck themselves accidentally, so that wasn’t really a concern we ever went over. “I think you’re supposed to massage the area.”
She looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “Huh?”
Her hands were so shaky, she’d never be able to do it herself, and she clearly didn’t want an audience for this. I’d never admit it aloud, but her coming to me for help did make my chest swell with a little pride, and I knew this could be an opportunity for us to build some trust.
“C’mon.” I ushered her to follow me.
She didn’t budge, just stood there with a freaked out look on her face. I reached back and looped a finger through one of her belt loops to tug her along. “We’re going outside for a breather. Let’s go.”
When she stumbled after me, I held a hand to the small of her back to direct her out.
As soon as we pushed the doors open, I had to squint against the bright sun shining in the blue sky, and I instantly felt at home seeing the mountains stretched up in the distance. Jesus, these kids were spoiled rotten for being able to take in this view every day at school. I just hope they appreciated it. I missed the mountains and blue skies of Colorado badly, which was why I had the topographical map of my hometown etched into my skin the first year I left home. I directed Maggie to a bench and lightly pressed her shoulders down to make her sit.
“Where’d you stick yourself?”
“My thigh, like they said to,” she answered quietly, still wringing her hands together.
“Show me.”
She inched her skirt up to reveal an angry red mark.
Yupp. There were no if’s about it. She definitely stuck herself. My knees cracked as I knelt beside her. I hiked her skirt up a little further before massaging the area.
I could do this. I could keep my attention on the task at hand and not let my brain run amuck with attraction. I was not feeling her up. I was helping her. And my body didn’t need any ideas.
I focused on the muscle surrounding the prick, kneading it the best I could to minimize the bruising– the girl surely didn’t need any more marks on her beautiful skin, which I now knew was as silky and soft as it looked.
She released a breathy little moan, and a jolt of lust shot straight to my groin. I grit my teeth. There’s no way, no fucking way, I should’ve been touching her like this. This would just feed more delusion to my body, which wanted her beyond all reason at this point.
“If I wasn’t so freaked, I’d enjoy this,” she murmured.
Yeah, me too , I thought, then instantly shut that thought down.
“Do we need to go to the hospital?” she asked, and the worry in her voice brought me back to reality. This wasn’t about me. She was scared, and I could actually fix this fear for her.
“No. Only if your heart or chest start feeling weird.”
Her green eyes widened, and that was the first time I noticed she had a darker green band around the iris. They were completely mesmerizing. She was completely mesmerizing.
“My chest does feel weird,” she choked out.
My hands paused but stayed on her thigh. “You’re not breathing right, Maggie.”
Her hand flitted to her chest, but her panicked eyes stayed on me. “I can’t.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Is that because of panic or because it actually hurts?” I’d been with this girl all of 24 hours, and already knew she was a nervous hyperventilator.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
“Breathe,” I coaxed, rubbing my hands up and down her thighs. “In, two, three, four.” I continued counting til she had a few good breaths in her. “Good.” I shook my head and stood, stealing my hands back to myself. “I'm gonna need that tattooed across my forehead for you.”
Her eyebrows slammed down. “That’s mean, Ben. Take it back.”
I cracked a grin. At least her anger could still overshadow her panic. “You’ll be fine. You’re probably just gonna feel restless and anxious, like you have a shitload of adrenaline that you don’t know what to do with, but it’ll wear off. If it doesn’t, then we’ll go in.”
“ If it doesn’t?” Her jaw dropped in horror. “More anxious than usual?”
I eyed her curiously. She dealt with anxiety all the time? Then again, it shouldn’t have been that surprising of a revelation. She wasn’t necessarily helping herself. I scratched my cheek. “Have you had anything other than coffee today?”
“No. Is that bad?” she asked weakly.
“Well, yeah–”
“It’s going to react with the epi?!” Her wide eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
“What?” How did she jump so fast to that conclusion? “No. I mean it’s bad to drink coffee on an empty stomach, that’s probably spiking your cortisol levels and giving you anxiety. You’ll be fine, Maggie. Drink some water.”
She looked around like she’d find a water bottle on the grass near us. “I don’t have any.”
I grabbed up my water bottle from my backpack and handed it to her. “Drink.”
She hesitated and made a little grossed out face. “It’s yours.”
“And?”
“It’s…” her nose wrinkled, “germy.”
I had no right to feel offended, but I did anyway. I shifted my weight, but continued holding the bottle out to her. “You think I’m germy?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
It was my turn to roll my eyes at her. “Then waterfall it,” I demanded. “You need to drink.” At least she gingerly took the bottle from me. “I promise I’m not germy,” I grumbled.
Her hand trembled as she tried to drink, and I hated seeing her struggle, even if it was her own damn fault. Who stuck themselves with a needle on accident?
“Let’s go on a walk, you need to burn off some adrenaline,” I suggested. “I need to walk the school grounds for surveillance anyway.”
We were only five paces into the walk when she said, “Can you just talk? My mind is going crazy.”
“Talk about what?”
“Anything. Distract me, please,” she practically begged. “I’d paint to calm down but my hand is all shaky so that wouldn’t help at all.”
I didn’t know what to share. I was essentially a ghost of a person. I signed my life over to the FBI as soon as I graduated and never looked back, but that felt pathetic to admit. “I thought I was supposed to be a silent shadow?” I asked, trying to get out of it.
“Please?” Her voice had a slight tremble to it. The way she cradled her cast lanced me with guilt and I found myself relenting. Damnit, this girl and her puppy dog pout. I shook my head. “I don’t know what to talk about,” I admitted, slowing my pace so she could keep up with me. “We need to work on picking up your pace.”
“Here I was thinking we need to work on slowing yours down.” She breathed out a ragged sigh. “What about your family?”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard. I could sugar coat it, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that. I told her I wouldn’t lie. “My parents are dead. No girlfriend. Never been married. No kids.”
She stopped walking. An expression came over her face that I couldn't quite read. “You don’t have anyone?”
“I have Eileen,” I said with a smirk.
“Huh?”
“Eileen. My adoptive mom.”
“Oh.” She nodded.
“She took me in. Saved my ass.”
“She sounds nice.”
I nodded. “She has four biological kids.” She’d be mad at me for saying ‘four of her own’ because she considered me her own too.
“How old were you? When she took you in.”
“Twelve.”
She chewed at her lip, like she was warring with herself over what to ask next. “So what are you siblings like?”
She accepted it. Just like that. I shot a curious glance at her. She didn’t make it weird. People always made it weird, asking me about ‘Eileen’s kids’, not my siblings. I usually brushed off that kind of comment, but it hurt when I was younger. I think it hurt Eileen too. No matter how hard she tried to include me, even going so far as officially adopting me, people had a way of forcing me to the outside.
“Oldest is Patrick, he kept us in line as kids. He was the man of the house. Then came Addie. The two of them bickered like crazy. It was like World War 3 every other morning. The house was so quiet when they both left for college,” I said with a chuckle. “My best friend was next, Conor. We were raised as twins after Eileen took me in. And then my youngest sister is Penny.”
“Was Eileen strict?”
“Eh,” I grinned. “She picked her battles.”
“Like what?”
“Like when Conor and I got picked up for MIP’s, she didn’t care all that much, just told us not to do it again. But when she found out Conor and I met our dates out instead of picking them up and driving them home? She went nuclear. Said that’s not how you treat ladies. Took our truck away for that one.” I let out a chuckle. Damn, I hadn’t talked about that, let alone thought about that, in so long.
“That’s cute,” she said with a little grin.
“Wasn’t cute at the time, but I can see the point. We never did that again.”
She hummed her agreement. “What do all your siblings do now?”
“Patrick is a Biology professor, big nerd nowadays. Conor went into the military with me and our other best friend– you met him already.”
She did a double-take. “Huh?”
“Agent Coleson, big blonde guy who questioned you first?”
Her mouth formed a little oh.
“We were all adrenaline junkies, but Conor settled down a little. He’s the police chief now back in our hometown. Married his high school sweetheart, Mallory. She was good for him, kept him grounded. He’s got two little boys. He did good for himself.”
She was silent for a beat. “What about your sisters?”
“Adds is an English teacher. Big Swiftie. You two would probably get along. She has three of her own rugrats.”
“And your other sister?”
I hesitated. “Pen married a Navy Seal. I think she met him through Conor.” I ran a hand over my hair. That was an awkward day. They basically had a shotgun wedding. Coleson got so drunk the night before that I thought we were gonna have to take him to the hospital. That’s where I usually stopped sharing, but I found myself wanting to tell her more. “He passed away. She has a two year old, Tilly.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes rounded. “That’s so… hard. I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah, he was a good guy from what I knew of him. But they’re doing alright, I think.” Guilt coursed through me. I should’ve been there for them more.
“You see them often?” she asked, almost like she could sense my train of thought.
I swallowed hard. “I see Conor more than anyone else. He lives not too far from here.” I kept my eyes on the mountains in the distance as my mind wandered back. “I stayed with them a couple weeks ago after some shit went down. Needed a vacation and to disappear for a while.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Oh, do they all live around here?”
I was glad she ignored the shit-going-down part. I wouldn’t lie to her about what happened, but I wouldn’t be happy to share it either. “Yeah, in a suburb about an hour from here.” I cut my eyes to hers. She seemed much more relaxed now. “What about your family?” I already knew from my internet creeping that she had a brother.
“I have an older brother, Liam,” she said with a small smile. “He’s only ten months older. We were basically twins. We were in the same grade growing up and everything.”
“Ah, Irish twins.” I smirked. “Did that make you guys hate each other or love each other?” From my own siblings I knew that could go either way.
“Love,” she said with a laugh. “We both had… similar struggles. I think it made us closer.”
I studied her side profile, the way her dark hair blew out behind her in the wind. I wondered what she meant by similar struggles. I wanted to ask, but stopped myself. I couldn’t cross any more lines with her. I needed to force us back into professional territory. “Feeling better?”
She paused and her hands went to her hips, like she just now realized she wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. “Actually, yes, I think I am.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You think. The girl thinks she feels better.” I shook my head incredulously and grinned down at her.
“Hey,” she protested, but a grin pulled at her lips too. “It’s not my fault.”
I did my best impression of her. “I-I-I think I stuck myself, says the woman with the angry red mark on her thigh.”
Her little elbow jutted into me. I could’ve dodged it. I didn’t want to. I wanted the contact.
“Whatever,” she said with a sigh. “I guess I got my payback for making you run this morning.”
I laughed. “Nah. This wasn’t a big deal at all.”
A relieved breath punched out of her, and I found I liked giving her reassurance, but not as much as I liked making her squirm. “I think you still need some payback.”
I shouldn't have said that. I fully knew it. Because I couldn’t stop the barrage of images that flew through my brain. How I’d like to make her pay. How I’d like to take her against the wall, and how I’d trail my tongue up her delicate neck and kiss that spot where her pulse fluttered, how I’d make her squirm, make her beg for–
Nope. I cut myself off.
But the way her eyes darted to mine, then dipped to my lips, I had a feeling she was thinking the same things. This was a dangerous little line we were toeing.