Chapter 19 #2
Deep voices and the crunch of footsteps on gravel interrupted her peaceful moment.
Thor leapt up from lazing in a sunny spot on the kitchen floor.
He barked as Aleksei and Virus entered the cabin with Jaka.
Aleksei kicked off his sneakers and headed directly for the coffeepot, poured a cup, and sipped it black.
Thor and Jaka wrestled on the floor of the sitting area in front of Virus, who sat on the couch, unlacing thick brown work boots.
Virus nodded toward Thor. “Quite an animal you got there. Looks more like a cow than a dog. He probably weighs as much as you do.”
Aleksei coughed, spewing coffee onto the kitchen floor. “Living out here alone seems to have rusted your charm,” he said as he cleaned up the mess with a wet paper towel.
She knew her build wasn’t slim and petite like her sister's, but she liked her figure. It was the perfect mix of athletic and curvy. She was fit and strong but still felt soft and sexy.
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling and shifting in her chair to face Virus. “He’s a Great Dane Dalmatian. Last time he was at the vet, he weighed 175 pounds, so yeah, he’s a big dog.”
“You’re lucky Rose is as sweet as her name. Any other woman would punch you if you compared her to her dog,” Aleksei said, a teasing note in his voice.
“Shut the hell up, Thompson. I should just shoot you and keep Rosemary for myself.”
Warm laughter tickled Rosemary’s throat, but she didn’t set it free.
In the homey cabin, with the sun shining, gorgeous views through large windows, and the comfortable banter, it was easy to forget what had brought her here.
She couldn’t let herself be distracted. Someone had set off a bomb in her office.
Most of her coworkers were dead. If someone was after her, they might also go after Sage, Ryker, or Davis.
Now that she’d rested, she needed to focus on figuring out what the hell was going on.
“Any chance you have internet access?” she asked.
Aleksei straightened and set his coffee cup on the counter with a thunk. “Tell me you don’t have a computer with you.”
She didn’t like his tone. “I have a work laptop with me.”
“Do you normally bring your work computer with you on vacation?” he asked, his tone still terse.
“No. But when Dante suggested it, I felt like I couldn’t say no. Especially since I was leaving him and Armando with such a mess.”
Virus sprang up from the couch and headed toward the kitchen. His movements were swift and agile, but his gait was slightly uneven.
Aleksei squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Please get the computer.”
Invisible hands squeezed her ribcage. “You didn’t ask me about a computer. You only asked about my phone.”
“If they can track a phone, they can track a computer.”
“Even if it’s turned off?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She hadn’t thought about the computer. She’d just put the backpack that held it with the rest of her things for Aleksei to load into the truck.
She wasn’t used to worrying about her location being tracked.
She didn’t even know someone could track the location of a computer that wasn’t connected to the internet.
Aleksei had worked so hard to cover their tracks and get them to safety, and she’d left a trail of breadcrumbs.
Virus laid a bulky, thick-knuckled hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay. It’ll only take me a few minutes to pull it apart to make sure there’s no tracker inside and get the location services turned off.
Computers aren’t the same as phones. There’s a good chance there’s nothing to worry about.
Plus, there are motion sensors and cameras around the perimeter of the entire property.
If anyone sets foot on my land, I’ll know.
” He glanced toward Aleksei. “Grab the laptop, and we’ll all head to the basement. ”
She grabbed the computer from her room, and they descended into the basement through a door in the living area that she’d assumed was a closet, leaving the 1800s vibe of the cabin far behind.
Multiple surveillance screens hung on a wall over a long counter that housed a few laptops, several desktop computers, and multiple computer screens.
A wheeled office chair sat in front of the counter.
The room also held a round dinette set, a mini-fridge, a TV, and a comfortable-looking couch and loveseat.
Books were scattered around, a plate and coffee cup sat on a side table, and a gray-toned flannel shirt was slung over the back of one of the dinette chairs.
It looked like Virus spent more time down here than he did upstairs.
Virus ushered them toward the table, walking briskly but still with that slightly uneven gait, his jeans swishing with each step.
“Is your leg all right?” she asked.
Both men whirled to face her. Aleksei grabbed Virus’s shoulder, but Virus pulled out of the grasp, his eyes sharp and lip curled in a sneer.
“No. My leg is not all right,” he snarled as he bent at the waist, lifting the left leg of his jeans. There was no skin above his white sock. Instead, there was just a shiny, silver rod.
They all stood frozen.
She didn’t know what she should say or whether there was anything to say.
Sympathy spiked through her. Sympathy for Virus, for his injury, and all the unspoken anguish in his surly response.
Sympathy for all the people she’d judged for staring at her wordlessly when she’d told them about her cancer.
Maybe she’d been too harsh. Maybe they, like her, were silent because they couldn’t find words to express the empathy cracking their hearts.
“Seen enough?” Virus growled, releasing the leg of his jeans.
Words eluded her. She understood his anger.
Had felt it herself as her hair came out in handfuls.
Felt it as she donned baseball caps and wrapped scarves around her head.
Felt it every day when she stared at her gleaming white scalp before putting that goddamn wig on her head.
Felt it as the few people who knew that her hair had never grown back glanced speculatively at her wig. She knew raw, boiling rage.
Without her hair, she felt like a piece of herself was missing.
“Go upstairs, Aleksei,” she ordered, breaking the silence that was as thick as stew.
Aleksei crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t budge.
“Go. Upstairs,” she repeated, emphasizing each word. “I know what I’m doing.”
He glanced between her and Virus, then stomped toward the stairs. A few thuds followed, then silence. She could tell he’d only gone partway up, but it was enough to block his view. That was good enough.
She closed her eyes, blew out a slow breath, reached up, and pulled off her wig.
“I’ve had cancer three times. I’m lucky to be alive, and I’m grateful for that.
Truly. But my hair will never grow back.
I’ll be bald the rest of my life. I don’t know what happened to your leg.
I can’t imagine what you went through, and I would never presume to say I know how you feel.
I don’t. Hair is such a small thing compared to a limb. ”
She laid a hand on his forearm. His sleeves were pushed up, and his skin was hot and thick with muscle.
“Life has a way of turning out so differently than what we imagine. The medicine that saved my life killed a part of me. I feel vain and stupid and ungrateful, but I loved my hair. I feel like less of a female without it. Less human.” She shook her head to clear it.
She was babbling. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.
Whatever happened. Whatever you suffered.
From my soul, I’m sorry. I know you don’t need my sympathy, but you have my empathy if you’ll accept it. ”
She pulled her hand away and walked on wobbly legs over to the dinette table. Sitting down, she resettled her wig on her head with shaking fingers. Adrenaline was a bitch sometimes.
Virus plopped down in the chair next to her with a loud grunt. He laid one large, tan-skinned, big-knuckled hand over hers. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that some scars are easier to hide than others.”
Rosemary relaxed into the warmth of their connection. Sometimes, she did too.