James 36 #2
“We’ll get her cleaned up,” says Sara. “Do you have a set of spare clothes we can put her in?”
“Me?” I blink a few times, remembering all those pink shopping bags still stuffed in my gym locker. Shit. “I mean—”
“And we can put her to sleep in your bed?” Sonya asks.
“Of course, but—”
“Can she use your shower?” Sara again.
“Yeah, of course,” I say again, “but, look, the problem isn’t getting her cleaned up. The problem is she won’t let me put her down.”
Everyone stills.
“What do you mean?” says Warner cautiously.
“I mean she won’t let me let go of her,” I say, shifting her against my chest. My arms are beginning to protest again. “I healed her too much. She’s been a little … emotional. Warner says she seems intoxicated.”
“Oh,” Sonya and Sara say together.
“Yeah.”
“But you have to put her down at some point,” says Warner. “She might need hours to sleep this off.”
“I know,” I say, my voice bleak.
“Can you try?” the girls ask together.
“Maybe we can help?” says Sara. “She knows us.”
I sigh, shooting them a wary look before relenting. I lean into Rosabelle’s ear.
“Rosabelle?” I whisper. “Baby, can you wake up for a second?”
She makes a sound in her throat and shakes her head against my chest. This makes me smile.
It’s like holding a kitten.
I gently lower her to the ground despite her blatant refusal, and when her feet hit the rug she stumbles. I steady her. She rights herself against me, her eyes flying open.
“James,” she gasps, automatically wrapping her arms around my waist.
I hear the girls’ quiet intake of breath.
“Hey,” I say, cupping Rosabelle’s cheek in my hand. “Sonya and Sara are going to help you get cleaned up, okay?”
“No,” says Rosabelle. “No.”
“Okay,” whispers Sonya. “You weren’t exaggerating.”
“Stay,” Rosabelle says desperately.
“I’m not going to leave,” I tell her, my chest tightening. “I just think you’d be more comfortable—”
“No,” she says, clinging to me.
Warner makes an impatient sound. Apparently, he doesn’t find this is as charming as I do.
“Hi, Rosabelle,” says Sara, stepping forward. “I’m Sara. Do you remember me?”
Rosabelle blinks up at Sara with wide, glassy eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. She then seems to notice everyone else, and stiffens.
“Yes,” she says. “I remember you.”
“We’re going to help you take a shower,” says Sonya, offering Rosabelle a smile. “And then you can sleep as long as you want.”
Sonya holds out her hand.
Rosabelle appears to process this, studying the hand outstretched before her, but she doesn’t move away from me. Instead, she clings to me more intently, her fingers curling once more into the fabric of my shirt. “James,” she says.
“You’re safe here,” I tell her. “The girls will take good care of you.”
Rosabelle looks up at me, searching. Her eyes close as I take her face in my hands, a soft sound leaving her chest. “I won’t be far,” I tell her. “Okay?”
“No,” she whispers.
A smile tugs at my lips. I turn her, gently, then point to my bedroom door. “My bed is in there,” I explain. “You’re in my room right now. I won’t leave this house while you’re in it, I swear. You’re safe here.”
She actually seems to understand this. She releases my shirt, then does a small, unstable turn as she looks around.
She peers up at me. “Your room?”
“Yes. My room.”
She looks from me to the girls. Then lifts her own hands and startles at the sight, as if she’s only just realized they’re covered in dried blood.
“We’re going to get you all cleaned up,” says Sara. “How does that sound?”
Rosabelle studies her and blinks. “Okay.”
“Great,” says Sonya, beaming at Rosabelle before glancing at me. She gestures toward my bedroom. “Your bathroom is just through there, right?”
I nod, feeling anxious.
Rosabelle is staring at me with those sleepy eyes again, her gaze heavy with unfiltered longing. My arms are screaming from overuse, but I already miss holding her against my chest.
I watch in silence as the girls guide Rosabelle toward my bedroom.
She follows them blindly, glancing back at me with every stumbling step.
She whispers my name twice before they get to the door, and only when Sara hits the light switch does Warner clap me on the shoulder so hard I nearly hit him for it.
“Ow,” I say, massaging my shoulder. The bedroom door snicks shut as I turn to face him. “What the hell?”
“I need to talk to you,” he says, and the look on his face pisses me off.
I have a feeling I’m about to get yelled at.
“Great,” I say, my irritation back in full force.
“Me too. Because I want to be super clear before you get mad at me for bringing her here: I don’t care about your rules anymore.
I’m not staying away from her just so she can get herself killed.
She’s planning something dangerous and she’s trying to go over all our heads to do it.
We have no idea what’s going on, and you never should’ve agreed to her terms. You don’t know her.
You don’t understand what she’s capable of.
I’ve tried a thousand times to warn you.
You never should’ve cut me out of this. You never should’ve let her get close to that psychopath—”
“You’re right.”
My mouth is caught open mid-sentence. I close it. Open it. “What?”
“I agree with you,” he says, his eyes tight.
“It was a mistake to keep the two of you apart. It was a mistake to mistrust your judgment about her. You made the right call when you brought her back to the capital, and I never should’ve doubted your instincts.
” He shakes his head. “I taught you and trained you from the time you were a child; I should’ve had more faith in you.
If nothing else, I should’ve had more faith in myself. ”
He meets my eyes.
“You’ve grown up, James, and it was hard for me to see you for who you are now. It was a mistake to shut you out of these conversations.” He hesitates. “You were right. About all of it. From the beginning.”
It’s like being kindly punched in the face.
I literally take a step back.
“But it’s not too late to regroup,” he says. “I need to get you up to speed on everything. And I’m going to need more of your time at HQ and less on the field. So I’m promoting you.”
I look around, feeling dazed. “I’m sorry, am I dreaming right now?”
“James,” he says, and his expression is stark. Resolute. “This isn’t cause for celebration. There have been unsettling developments. We need to talk about the blast tonight. We need to talk about Rosabelle’s father. We need to talk about Sebastian. You don’t even know about the scientists yet.”
“What scientists?”
“My point exactly.”
Adrenaline kicks in then, sharpening my tired mind. “What’s going on? What happened?”
He shakes his head. “Shower first—use the guest bath. Come meet your niece. Then forget about sleeping tonight.”
I raise my eyebrows. It’s after one in the morning. I’m already so exhausted I can hardly hold myself upright. This must be serious.
“Shit, okay,” I say.
“We’ll start in an hour,” he says, his eyes hard. “I have some files I want you to read.”