Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hunter Cabin, Blue Valley Woods
Ilean in the doorway to the small utility room at the back of the cabin, which has been transformed into a gym.
After a night alone with Bird, when I found myself regretting not taking up Joker’s offer to share his bed with Phantom, I sought out the Beta and found him here, busy with his dawn workout.
Impressed, I watch him running on the treadmill, which dominates the back wall.
Joker is dressed in a tight olive t-shirt and training pants. He is so focused that he hasn’t noticed me. He’s running fast, and I know enough to realize just how good his form is. His breathing is controlled and rhythmic.
He looks born to be a runner.
Yet life isn’t fair.
I know that.
If Joker’s dad hadn’t burned down the house…if his sister and he hadn’t been separated because she’d been a Rogue…if he hadn’t been taken as a Companion…if he hadn’t gone into the military…
But if doesn’t exist.
It’s simply how we comfort ourselves. It’s a lie.
Joker is a Rogue Switch. He is an outlaw.
And now, he is my pack.
I swagger into the gym over the rubber mats.
Rain drums on the metal roof. I can see the wet trees and swirling fog through the narrow window.
In the far corner, divided from the workout area, is a low workbench. It is covered with the evidence of gadgets at the different stages of invention.
Interesting.
My nose scrunches up at the mingled scents of iron, rubber, and sweat.
Dumbbells are stacked by size along the wall. A barbell, ankle weights, and balance boards rest on a rack, paired with a simple, padded bench. I eye a pull-up bar that has been bolted into the wall studs. The wall around it shows the marks from frequent use.
These men are clearly gym bunnies, which is obvious from both their defined muscles and levels of fitness.
I can’t wait to spar with them.
It was thrilling to fight someone in the Sanctum Lodge room who was able to dodge my attacks. I have never met anyone like that before. But then, now I know Joker’s secret advantage: he’s a Rogue like me.
On the other hand, he praised Phantom as being even better at hand-to-hand combat than he is.
And isn’t that exciting?
I grin, glancing at the gymnastic rings and jump ropes that lie abandoned on the mats.
I am still dressed in the black kitten woolen pajamas, which Phantom bought me and I had to be coaxed into wearing by Bird with laughter and kisses. But they’ll be all right to wear for simple exercises.
I snatch up the jump rope and check it, as my instructors taught me.
My lips thin at the thought of the hours I spent every day with my instructors in Adonis Hall. It wasn’t like this contented quiet with Joker, where we have both chosen our own exercise and pace.
Instead, I had a schedule set by someone else. I was pushed past my limits. I was forged into a weapon for someone else to use.
Now, I am my own weapon, and everyone who once made me what I am today had better watch out.
I settle my weight. Then I flick my wrists and start to jump.
My heels barely lift from the mat, while the rope kisses it.
Single jumps. Double-unders. Then I cross the rope.
I find myself smiling. I never have before in the gym.
When I finish, I drop the rope to find Joker has stopped running and is leaning on the treadmill to watch me.
“Looking good, baby.” Joker claps.
I arch my brow. “You too. Is this your usual routine?”
“Every morning. Phantom is more of a night owl. He hits the weights in the evenings. I love running. Hey, does you being here mean that I’ll finally have someone to keep me company? When the weather is good, I run long distance. Are you up for daily ten miles?”
I baulk. “Masochist.”
He winks. “You know me so well.”
“How about we start with five miles?”
Joker jumps off the treadmill, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. “Should I start calling you Kitten? You look adorable in those pajamas, Alpha.”
“You really are a masochist, since you’re begging for a spanking.”
“Always. But it’s still the truth.”
Joker laughs, when I dive toward him and smack his ass.
He twirls away from me elegantly, as if with a dance move, but I know that his skills come from combat.
He’s fast.
He’s high on adrenaline, gesturing for me to attack again. “Come on then. I’m just here.”
I bare my teeth. “There isn’t room in here. Just wait until it’s not raining, however, and I will hunt you down. Then you’d better watch out, Jokes.”
“Oh, I’m scared, baby,” he taunts.
I tilt my head. “You’re scared of something, or we’d be scheming our attack on the Facility and not still hiding out in your cabin.”
Joker’s expression blanks. “I told you, we’re not hiding.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“This cabin isn’t only a safehouse. It’s the most defensible place we own.”
I cross my arms. “Again, why are you so terrified of the other bounty hunters that you feel this is necessary?”
When Joker doesn’t reply, I notice that his hands have tightened into fists.
“The ones who shot at us in Sanctum,” I say, slowly.
“It’s that pack you’re worried about, right?
You’re acting how I would. After all, your Alpha was shot.
You didn’t expect them to be there that night.
You thought that you had everything figured out.
You had tricked us. But then, they showed up.
Is it these Krakens that you mentioned? The ones who are the best? ”
“The best killers.” Joker’s voice is disturbingly flat.
I miss the unhinged wildness in it. “They’re bullies and psychos.
If they have found us, then every single one of us is in danger.
Yet we have been hunting the Krakens for two years.
If they’re the ones who are closing in now, then they’re walking into a trap. ”
“Who are they? This sounds personal. Why?”
“It is personal.”
Joker meets my gaze unflinchingly.
If he thinks that he is going to win a staring contest, then he’s out of luck. Mars went through a period of trying those with me when he was a kid.
I have a one hundred percent win rate.
I hold Joker’s gaze, until he breaks it with a snarl of frustration.
I am still the Queen of Staring Contests.
Joker prowls to the low workbench, picking up a monitor and fiddling with it like he needs to do something with his hands. He taps on the table.
I follow him. “Are these your inventions? You’re talented.”
Joker glances at me, surprised. “You’re not going to kick my ass for being all mysterious and avoiding your questions? No more rounds of interrogation, as fun as I find them?”
“Unless you want me to stick electrodes on your cock and balls and demand that you tell me the truth or I’ll turn into a mean Alpha.”
Joker licks over his dry lips. “Now I do.”
I smirk. “My role play list is just growing longer and longer.”
When I reach to touch the metal casing of a device on the bench, Joker pushes my hand away.
“Stop,” he cries out, startled.
Joker’s breathing becomes ragged. He staggers.
I grab him by the shoulder.
Joker’s eyes are glassy.
Is he having a panic attack?
“It’s all right, Jokes,” I say, calmly. “You’re here, with me. You’re safe.”
Joker grips onto my arms to ground himself. He leans forward, taking a deep breath of my scent glands.
“There’s no fire,” Joker mutters. “No smoke. Can’t breathe, can’t…smoke…hot…”
My eyes widen.
Joker is having a flashback to the night his house burned down, killing his pack.
Horrified, I flood the gym with my powerful pheromones, knowing that he needs as many signals as possible that he’s not back there but here in the present with me.
“What can you smell?” I prompt.
Joker sniffs my neck. “Creamy, buttery espresso caramel macchiato. Alpha. Pack. Safety.”
That’s how he sees me?
How can he see me as safe?
How traumatic is his past that an Alpha like me can be his safe place?
I hold Joker closer, never wanting to let go. I feel impossibly protective.
He’s both my Beta and my Omega.
My eyes are wet.
“That’s right.” I kiss the top of Joker’s head. “Your Alpha.”
Slowly, he blinks.
Joker stares up at me, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Shit, I shouldn’t have… Phantom normally only sees me…”
“Is it because I touched your invention?”
“Dad’s gadgets killed everyone,” Joker replies.
“I tried not to blame him, but I was angry with him for a long time. Inventing was his passion. I know accidents happen. I would never have taken away something that made him happy, and I know that the rest of my pack wouldn’t.
But if it meant that they were still alive…
if I hadn’t been made a Companion…if I hadn’t been separated from Colette… ”
“If is a game that does nothing but hurt you.”
“I’ve forgiven him now. But for a long time, I wouldn’t invent anything.
It’s in my blood, however, and Phantom convinced me to start using my skills to become a secret gadget expert for him when we joined the SEALs.
It scares me for people who I care about to touch my inventions in front of me in case it burns them to ash.
We had a rule that Phantom never would. I want to get past this.
Rationally, I know that nothing bad will happen. But our emotions aren’t rational.”
“Then don’t think emotionally.”
“We can’t all be like that. If you suppress your emotions, then they’ll find a way to break free eventually.”
Is that what happens with my Rogue Powers?
“Will you tell me about your gadgets? I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
“As long as that promise is only about my inventions and not my gorgeous body.” Joker tucks his blond hair behind his ear as he turns eagerly back to the workbench.
He points at the devices in turn. “These are prototypes that I am working on. This one monitors scent and pheromone output. This is a compact scent dampening gadget. This is a prototype Rogue Power system.”
My brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
Joker glances at me with a look that promises something world changing. Yet what he picks up looks like the type of watch that Mars would wear: A sleek and elegant piece of jewelry.
Nothing more.