Chapter 4 #2
My fingers flex. I’m a professional agent. I can do this. The sooner I can get this over with, the better. I turn to the bar stool underneath the kitchen island and jump up.
Realizing the eye-level view he has from his spot, I quickly cross my legs.
“You broke into my apartment, saw me naked, and then proceeded to insult my personal preferences of books. Another word from you and I will have your jugular on a plate and personally haul your vacant body to Bear’s welcome mat so he can play your limp body like a ventriloquist for his night out. ”
A deep chuckle rumbles from his throat as he snaps his head from the back of the couch and drawls “Yes ma’am.” He scratches his beard, and waits.
“Let’s make this quick then.” I grab a pen and notepad from the counter at my back, scowling at the flowers.
Ana will hear from me later, that’s for sure.
Clicking the pen, I draw a quiet breath.
“I was thinking once a week we could all meet for dinner at the dining hall, then Scott and Talia can drop by for dessert and see the progress Ana’s insisting on us having. ”
His face twists. “That’s it? I don’t think you understand the term team bonding; it’s going to require a little more than a dinner where we stuff our faces more than converse.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Then what do you have in mind?”
He leans, spreading his feet as he props his elbows atop his knees. “Morning and evening workouts and dinner hall. That way, as leads, we can both get an idea of who needs what on the field, and then dinner for Scott and Talia as you said.”
My hand twitches at the thought of judgment through the beginning and end of my days, I click the pen nervously. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
Nyx’s features darken. “Why is it such a problem? It makes sense for what’s been asked of us. If you want us to look good, then me and you are going to have to start working together for it. Clearly, record times ain’t cutting it when you’re constantly getting us flagged for your solo acts.”
This is a toeing a line I don’t particularly care for. “Are you suggesting I’m the issue?”
He shakes his head. “No. Florence. I’m only trying to help. It just seems you are the only one bothered by something as simple as hanging out with friends. The rest of us are on board, you just need to jump on.”
I rub my fingers deep into my eye sockets, groaning. It makes sense, I’m only hurting myself when I’ve been trying to rein it in. This is my job after all. If I can slip on a mask dealing with B.A.I.T, then I can easily slip it on dealing with the Greyline Unit. “Okay. Consider me on board Nyx.”
He clasps his hands together. “Atta girl.” He pushes off the sunken couch to his feet, scanning the room. He takes a step back, sinking back into the couch again.
“I was assuming your dog-like praise was my ticket to you leaving,” I deadpan.
He chuckles, scratching his beard. “I was just admiring what you’ve done with the place that’s all. I’m not quite sure what to call it—how about Appalachian gothic grandma. Kind of cool, Flossie.”
I hop off the stool and smooth my tee “I prefer, dark-cottage core. But thank you? I guess.”
Nyx nods to the largest window frame, “I know where that is—bout’ thirty minutes from here in the middle of Howler’s Mountain isn’t it?”
I feel my face lift at his recognition. “Yeah, I took that last fall when we were scouting the area for sanctuary.”
He nods knowingly. “I remember that.”
I stare at the picture as if it were a TV screen, all the autumn leaves tenderly drifting from the trees.
The entire T.A.L.O.N unit searched every inch of the two thousand acres for any evidence of wolves.
We don’t release a pack if the territory has already been taken, and for some reason, the property was vacant.
Still is. Scott said he wanted to wait for the right pack.
I spotted the little old cabin, perched in the middle and immediately snapped the image from my phone and printed it the same night. Nyx clears his throat, and I blink, snapping out of my daze. My breath hitches when I face him, his dove-grey eyes softening as if he heard every word in my mind.
I scoff at his mocking innocence. “Don’t you have plans with the beast? It’s past eight now.” I scrunch my damp hair in my hands hoping he’ll take the hint.
“Yeah, I reckon I’d better get going.” He glances again at the large bookcase and I tense, bracing myself.
“For a woman not interested in romance, what’s the fascination with the genre?
” He pauses, waiting patiently for my answer.
A sigh escapes me, my mind searching every corner of my brain for an excuse.
Maybe, if I give him this one thing tonight, he’ll leave.
My eyes scan the shelves from the floor to the ceiling, thinking of all the wondrous stories within.
I walk over, my nail picking at one of the dust covers as I turn my back to Nyx.
“All the stories end in the same way, the way that mine didn’t. A happy ending.”
The sound of boots close in, Nyx’s presence filling the space cautiously behind me.
The hair on my neck rises, my eyes catching the shadow of his hand, as it reaches warily for my shoulder.
I flinch. He pauses, holding it in place as if he’s daring himself to take the risk.
A heartbeat later, he softly lowers it back to his side, choosing not to push further.
“Goodnight Angry Bones, see you at six.”
The door closes behind him and I pinch my nose, finally releasing the breath I’ve been holding.
Gosh Florence you’re such a cliché. Just a single sentence makes me feel like I word vomited my entire life.
But as I stare at the bookcase, reading over each title with the stories flashing into my mind, I can’t help but to feel that way.
Maybe I need to invest in different literature.
A buzzing sounds from my room, drawing me away from my thoughts. Cici’s contact lights up from my nightstand. “What do you want?” I answer.
“Great, you’re in a good mood! I need you to come to Billy’s with me.” Closet hangers clash through the speaker.
“I literally was just about to get into bed,” I grumble.
What in the world is she going to Billy’s so late for? “Pleaseeeee—,” she whines.
“Noooo—,” I whine back. I’m not too keen on the smell of piss poor beer and stale cigarettes. “Matt asked me to come,” she trails off. “And well, I need you, so it doesn’t look suspicious.”
Ugh. I plop down onto my cozy bed, running a hand along the inviting fabric.
“Florence?” Her shuffling pauses. I know that tone.
“I’ll be ready in five—” I finally respond. “But I’m driving.”
I can feel her light up through the phone. “Thank you!” She squeals. I hang up and fall backwards, massaging my temples. “Here we go.”