15. CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 15
Colden
“ S ee anything?” Arlo’s arm bumps mine.
Keeping the binoculars to my eyes, I push him. “Get away. You’re practically sitting in my lap.”
“You should be so lucky.” His snark level has gone up since hanging around my aunt’s friends, but he leans away and adjusts the yellow hardhat on his head.
After the goons took Neo, I hauled ass back to the cabin and called Arlo. Within forty minutes, he was there, with Bean, Aunt June, Tuesday, Howard, Gilbert, two vans, and Neo’s location, which we tracked all the way to Maryland. So, yeah, the kid’s growing on me, but there’s still such a thing as personal space.
“Are we sure this is the place?” We’ve been staked out across the street from the building we believe Neo’s being held for the last hour.
A glare from the late afternoon sun bounces off the screen on Arlo’s laptop as he monitors Bean, Gilbert, and Harold, who are dressed like electricians and busy planting signal jammers. “That’s what SPAM’s tracking unit said.”
In my ear, I hear Aunt June and Tuesday debating the best essential oils. I turn down the volume in my earpiece and squirm in my seat. My ass, sore from the three-hour drive, which was thirty minutes shorter than it should have been because Tuesday drives like she’s competing in a Formula One race, and Arlo had no intention of letting her win.
“So anything?” Arlo looks up from his laptop, the corner of the bushy fake mustache he insisted on wearing flaps when the air conditioning hits it.
“Not yet. You?” My mouth tastes of sour milk and every minute I don’t see signs of Neo is like being skewered with a rusty, dull dagger.
Is he okay? Does he know I’m coming for him? How do I tell Dacker that he was a fool to trust me?
Arlo hops out of the passenger seat and checks one of the many monitors in the back of the van. “Their system’s secure. It’s impressive. But Roman said Hendrix is working on it. Nothing’s impenetrable.”
“He better be ri—” The curtain in the upper left window flutters.
I focus in as the walkie squawks with Bean’s voice. “Movement. Top left window.”
“See it,” I respond.
A hand appears, moving around like it’s feeling for something, showing more arm as it searches, and my heartbeat picks up. “That’s him.”
“How do you know?” Arlo’s voice is annoyingly close to my ear.
“I know.” I pick up the walkie and press the button. “It’s him.”
There’s static, then Bean again, “You sure?”
“Yes.” I’ve become intimately aware of every inch of Neo, from the freckle on his left elbow to the way his ankle cracks any time he rotates it, to the streaks of gold that color his eyes in the early morning light. I know him, and that is his arm. Eyes on the hand, I watch. “I think he’s trying to unlock the window.”
“Hendrix is in.” This from Arlo. “He says five minutes and he’ll have their alarm system shut down.”
Five minutes is too damn long. Neo’s been gone for a lifetime. At least that’s what it feels like, and I’m not waiting any longer. “I’m going in.”
“Not by yourself. We have a plan.” Arlo frowns as his gaze darts between me and the many screens he’s monitoring.
My skin itches, my clothes like sandpaper, and I need to move. Need to get to Neo. “We don’t know what they’ve done to him.”
Arlo swivels on the stool he’s perched, and for the first time since he sauntered into the office all those months ago, disrupting my quiet work environment, his carefree attitude is missing. In its place, a grave determination. “You will not go rogue and put the subject’s life or anyone on this team’s life in danger.”
“You, me, and a bunch of retirees do not make a team.” I grab the hard hat and shove it on my head and reach for the door handle.
Arlo bolts from the stool, blocking me with his body. It would take nothing to pick him up and move him, but the set of his jaw and the fierceness in his eyes causes me to pause. “Those people,” he shakes his finger toward the other van, and anger laces his voice, “are here because they care about you, and they’re willing to put themselves in danger to help. If April finds out—”
“Fuck April,” I scream.
Arlo’s hand flies to his neck, and a noise bursts from his throat that sounds like he’s trying not to swallow his tongue. “Don’t say that,” he whispers, gaze darting around like he’s expecting to be jumped any second. “What if she hears you?”
I roll my eyes. “She’s not all-knowing.”
“Says, you. Does anyone know what her power is?” Wincing, he twists to look behind him, then raises onto his toes and presses his hand to poke at a speaker in the van’s roof.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. What I do know is they took Neo in broad daylight at SPAM’s safe house.” I pull at the neck of my shirt. It’s so tight. Everything is so fucking tight, and this metal box is… I’m suffocating. I speak into the walkie. “Gil—”
Arlo smacks my hand away, and the walkie tumbles to the floor. “We have code names for a reason.” He picks up the hand radio. “Everyone, turn on coms. Windman take your position.”
A loud squawk pierces the air, then a grumble. “Yeah.”
“Coms, Windman,” Arlo reprimands.
I turn the volume up on my earpiece. Arlo puts his in his ear, and we wait a minute, then a gravelly voice comes through the speaker. “Happy now, Goldie?”
I snort and Arlo frowns. “I am not like a Golden Retriever.”
“It’s a compliment, dear.” My aunt’s voice filters in my ear.
“You have good energy.” This comes from Tuesday.
“I don’t know how to work this,” Harold yells causing Arlo and me to pull the ear pieces from our ears.
“You’re doing it. Just don’t yell.” Bean’s monotone, never-flustered tone soothes Harold. “We’re set here. Windman’s heading out.”
“Give me three minutes to get into position, then let loose.” I pat the pockets of my jeans, making sure everything is in place, and secure the utility belt around my waist. Arlo opens the back door and I jump out of the van with Delmarva Power written on the side. I hurry across the street to the back of the building.
All business, Arlo’s voice fills my ear. “Careful, Cube. I don’t want to have to train someone new.”
I snort and remove the SPAM issued hooks and attach them to the building per the instructions Arlo gave me earlier. Then I tie the SPAM issued rope, feed it through my belt loops, and tie it to the hooks. I give a few tugs to ensure they’re fastened snuggly. “Secured.”
“Hold tight,” Gilbert says.
From my vantage point, I see him light his cigar. With the first puff comes a gust of wind so strong a tree branch cracks and rockets through the air. The more he puffs, the stronger the winds. Debris sails through the air and I have to squint my eyes to keep dirt and dust out. A metal garbage can gets picked up by the wind and I press closer to the building so as not to be clobbered by it. Car alarms sound. Dogs howl. A woman screams. And Gilbert continues to puff away on his cigar, his clothes perfectly still and not a hair out of place.
Fighting the gales, I tuck my head and inch closer and closer to the back entrance.
“We’ve got six people at the front door. Two more at the bottom right window and one at top right,” Bean reports.
“Hendrix shut down the security system. Now he’s unleashing a virus.” Arlo’s voice is the calm in the literal storm.
Gripping the door handle, I pull, and it opens with ease. With a utility knife, I cut the rope free and step inside. “I’m in.”
I take a moment to get my bearings. The layout is the same as the schematics Roman got for us. The walls vibrate from the tornadic winds outside. I the distance, I hear startled voices over the pounding against the building. Moving as stealthily as I can, I take the stairs to the right.
As I round the corner on the landing, a blur comes barreling toward me. I stifle a scream and grab onto the rail to keep from falling backwards and come face-to-face with, “Neo?”
“Colden?” His palm thuds to his chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
My gaze rakes over him, searching for anything amiss. Other than sweatpants that are too short and wearing flip-flops that look like they were bought on sale at the dollar store, he looks good. So good. But now is not the time to linger over the way the chestnut hair on his legs ends right above his ankles or how his second toe is slightly longer than his big toe. I take his elbow. “Let’s go.”
“You have him already?” Arlo’s surprised voice startles me into almost dropping my hold. We descend another few steps, and I keep Neo in my grasp.
“Leaving through the back door. Out in thirty seconds.” Hoots of excitement and chatter fill my ear.
Breath stuck in my chest, my eyes dart to every creak and groan of the building as Gilbert’s wind continues to howl.
“Time to quiet things, Windman,” Bean says.
We race down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible, and I hear Gilbert say, “Damn. It’s been forty years since I enjoyed a good cigar.”
With every step, the air in my lungs loosens, even as my grip on Neo’s elbow tightens. Now that I have him, letting go is impossible. And it’s with that thought that I realize I need to have a serious discussion with my best friend. Because for as much as I love Dacker, Neo has wiggled his way into my heart in a way I never imagined.
As we reach the last step and the short hallway that will lead us to the door and freedom, my heart threatens to pound out of my chest. Beside me, Neo’s body is taut with anxiety, but he moves with a swiftness that belies any distress he’s experiencing. Another example of the strength this man encompasses.
“Going somewhere?” From the shadows steps a man about my height in a pinstripe suit that hugs his fit form so well, it screams bespoke. His hair, with more salt than pepper, is styled in what the novels I read would refer to as artfully messy, and his gray beard is trimmed with a level of precision that speaks to an eye for detail.
Keeping my hand on him, I guide Neo behind me. The weight of his fingers gripping my hip and his chest pressed to my back would be a turn-on were we not in the middle of an attempted escape. “We’re leaving.”
“Shit.” I hear Bean say. Chatter explodes, and Arlo barks out orders like he’s commanding an infantry in wartime, but I tune it out.
The man’s mouth turns up, and his smile expands. I can’t tear my eyes from him, nor do I want to. Warmth spreads through me, like a hug from a real-life teddy bear. I want to stay, even as a part of me is screaming to get the hell out of here.
“Why don’t you stay for a bit? The weather is…” His grin widens. “Unpredictable.”
Neo’s mouth presses close to my ear. “Don’t trust his smile.”
The heat of his breath warming my skin frees me from the temporary fog of warm and fuzzy feelings. I nod once and refocus on the space above the man’s right shoulder.
“What’s happening? Cube, you need to talk to me.” The rapid fire of Arlo’s words shatters his previous calm.
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re fine,” I say to Mr. Smiley.
His smile drops as fast as it appeared. “I don’t think so.” He turns his head and calls, “Jed. Stan. Get in here.”
I hold my hands up, and an iceberg pops into my mind. A block of ice the size of a coffee table shoots forward, pushing me back with its force. I stumble, but Neo’s presence steadies me. The block hits Smiley’s shoulder, stunning him. I focus on the iceberg in my mind and shoot another at him. This block, bigger than the first, knocks the side of his head.
Neo kicks off his flip-flops, yanks on my belt loop, and we take off, scooting around dickhead. The pounding footfalls of Jed and Stan thunder closer. “Can you shoot more?”
“We’ll see.” I hold up my hands in time for smaller blocks to peg the two doofuses charging at us. Head and chest shots and a few in the knees.
“Hey! That hurts.” The one guy whines, but there’s no time for a retort.
Neo tugs the back of my shirt, and I hurl another mass of ice. These are typical cubes, but they’re flying from my hands like an ice storm, covering the floor and making it as slippery as a skating rink.
My fingers tingle and my palms prickle, but it’s more like a frisson than my typical tremor.
“What the fuck?” The guy with the cargo pants slips, crashing into Smiley.
Neo pushes the door open with a bang, flinging it open as the trio behind us yell, trying to get purchase but sliding and smashing into each other.
“Go, go, go,” I yell to Neo. “Van!” I point to the white van across the street. Shouts fill my ear. I can’t make out who’s saying what. Hot air still blows, but the voraciousness of the earlier winds has died down.
In front of us, a woman in a suit points a gun at Neo. “Stop.”
“Gun!” I scream, then yank him to the side and push him behind me.
“Go, Bean,” Arlo yells.
From the other side of the building, a five-foot nothing person in a yellow safety vest appears. They open their mouth and out comes… Nothing. Bean closes their eyes and shakes their head. They can’t produce their sonic scream. Something’s blocking them.
“Shit. I hope we have a back-up plan,” I say under my breath.
Gun woman doesn’t notice Bean, keeping her focus on Neo and me. “I said, stop.”
My eyes lock on the finger squeezing the trigger, and I hold up my hands, keeping Neo securely behind me. “Put the gun down.”
She snorts. “Yeah, no.”
“Dr. Dinn,” Neo speaks from behind me. “This is below you.”
She raises the gun, her thin lips pinched. “What do you know? This is my chance to be a part of something big. To get the respect I deserve.”
“I’ve got it.” Arlo jumps from the van and holds out his hand like he’s Merlin. Twisting and manipulating his palm like he’s weaving magic.
Dr. Dinn’s face morphs from a leer to confusion as her left knee bends and rises, then straightens and falls, bends and rises, straightens and falls. She looks like a horse counting out numbers with her foot. “W-what’s happening?”
The gun topples from her hands as she reaches for her leg. Neo pushes my shoulders. I reach back, take his hand and we run toward Aunt June waving us on to the van.
“There,” someone yells. Behind us, pounding footsteps and harsh breathing grow louder.
No matter how fast we run, the van doesn’t get any closer, but the knuckleheads do. The air shimmers and it feels like we’re bits of fruit suspended in Jello. “One of those fuckers is using a power.”
“I’ll take care of them,” Harold says, his gritty voice hardening through the speaker.
I don’t see him, but within seconds the Jello mold breaks. Neo and I race forward. I dare a glance back and see doofus one and doofus two, legs pumping but going nowhere, as they’re suspended about three inches in the air.
“Hurry, it doesn’t last long,” Harold calls.
Bouncing and waving, Aunt June yells, “Hurry, hurry, hurry.”
But just as we’re within diving distance of the van, we’re thwarted by six feet of blond hair, blue-eyed perfection. “Neo, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Fuck.” Neo grinds to a halt. Unable to stop fast enough, I plow into him, toppling him forward into Paris Fucking Ridge’s outstretched arms.
“Got you.” His bow lip stretches over his white teeth, and a warm and cozy feeling overrides my fear and adrenaline. Alex or Paris or whatever the fuck his name is wraps an arm around Neo. “I missed you.”
Eyes squeezed shut, Neo goes rigid. “The feeling is not mutual.”
“That’s okay. We’ll get you back home and straighten everything out.” Paris trains his grin on me like a sharpshooter readying to take out a target. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Fuck this.” I lower my eyes, grab Neo’s wrist and yank him free. “Go,” I yell. Then, picturing an ocean of icebergs, I throw my hands up. A chill flows from my shoulders to my elbows and down my forearms as my hands shake.
Neo takes off toward the van, kicking up gravel. Just as Paris twists to go after him, a block of ice the size of a Mini Cooper explodes from my hands with such force I’m thrown back and land on my ass. The solid mass hits Paris and lands on him as he falls to the ground.
“Don’t fuck with my man, asshole.” I spring to my feet and pump my legs, diving into the van after Neo.
“Go,” Aunt June commands.
Tuesday floors it, squealing the tires, and leaving a crying Alex pinned under a mound of ice.
“What about the others?” Neo asks, between gulping breaths.
My aunt smooths out her skirt like she’s sitting down for tea, not racing from a bunch of villains. “They’ll be in the other—”
A scream so piercing, the van vibrates, exploding in the air with a siren’s shrapnel. I throw myself on Neo, covering his ears.
“Looks like Bean found their scream,” Tuesday yells over the glass-shattering noise, then punches the gas, not slowing down until the only sound is the whirl of tires over the asphalt and the thud of my heart in my ears.
Long fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hand from his ear. I drop my other, but keep my body pressed to his, needing the lean muscles and warm skin as assurance that he’s really here. “You okay?”
“You came.” His soft smile thaws the igloo I built around my heart and is more enthralling than any power the smiley assholes threw at me.
My eyes devour him, taking inventory of every inch. I swear if there is one scratch, one hair out of place, I won’t leave those fuckers for SPAM to deal with. My hand trembles as I brush his hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
He tips his head to one side, studying me like I’m one of his codes. “For rescuing me?”
“You didn’t need me. You were on your way out.” I trail a finger along his jaw, the scruff of his beard thicker than it was this morning. “You’re the strongest, most capable person I know. You rescued yourself, always have.”
“Colden…” My name falls from his lips on a breath and a tightening in my gut shackles me in place, afraid to move, to breathe for fear he’s going to vanish from my life. “Being independent or self-sufficient, or whatever you want to call it, doesn’t mean human beings don’t still need or want rescuing occasionally.” His fingers glide in a slow trail along my spine. “Especially when it’s by the man they’ve crushed on since they were a teen.”
The backs of my eyes grow hot. He’s here, under me, in my arms, and I ache to keep him all to myself, but… “You could do so much better.”
He cups my face, and I startle at the sincerity in his gaze. “I don’t want to do better.” He shifts his head, glancing at my aunt and Tuesday in the front seat, who are uncharacteristically quiet. He drops his chin to his chest and lowers his voice. “I want to do you.”
“But—”
“For the love of god, Colden, the man likes you as much as you like him.” My aunt lets out an aggravated sigh. “I thought you would have grown out of your insecurities by now. Don’t let them rule your life.”
Humor makes the golden flecks in his pretty eyes flash and his teeth press into his bottom lip. “She’s not wrong.”
“She could have been a little more subtle.” I raise my voice and stare daggers at the back of her head, but June just chuckles. Reluctantly, I edge off Neo and drag him to sit with our backs against the side of the van. There’s nothing like getting called out by your aunt in front of the man of your dreams. My face feels hot, but when Neo pats my cheek, my embarrassment doesn’t matter.
From the rearview mirror, Tuesday peers at me. “You don’t understand subtle, sweetie.” She yanks on the steering wheel as she swerves around a slower moving vehicle and I catch Neo as he tumbles into me. “Remember that, Neo. It will save you a lifetime of annoyance.”
“Who said anything about a lifetime?” My forehead turns as clammy as my hands, and I feel dizzy. Having experienced the terror of not knowing where he was or if I’d ever see him again, there’s no doubt that I would love to spend my life with Neo, but I don’t want to scare the poor man away. He’s been through enough. Plus, there’s the small issue of Dacker I need to clear up.
He rests his head on my shoulder and rubs my thigh. “I wouldn’t mind a lifetime.”
“I…U-um… I…” My brain is misfiring, my mouth won’t work, and I feel slightly nauseous.
“Too subtle?” He presses his lips to mine. “We can date first. But I’m not letting you go this time, Colden Frias. You’re it for me, always have been.”
“What about Dacker?” My leg bounces and my already nauseated stomach churns more. I can’t lose Dacker. Who would I be without my best friend? That’s not something I want to find out.
Neo leans in, pressing his chest against my arm so I can feel his heart beating wildly. Long fingers grasp my chin and turn my face until I’m close enough to count every one of his eyelashes. He drops his chin and looks up at me from under those gorgeous lashes. “He doesn’t have a say in who I give my heart to.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Our lips meet, and I’m lost. With every swipe of his tongue, I’m found. And I know that with Neo by my side, I can handle anything.
Even talking to Dacker.