Chapter 7 #2
The cushion was cool from the air in the room, and the pizzas smelled so good. I was starving. Kara’s hands left me, the absence of her support almost as noticeable as the lift had been. I adjusted in the seat, fingers brushing the edge of the table while Ellie slid the chair in to meet it.
I looked up to see the woman who had nodded at me earlier holding out a dark bottle. Her forearms were defined and powerful, with roping muscles that flexed with every movement.
“Beer?” she asked.
I took it automatically, my fingers brushing the cool glass.
The label caught my eye. It was the brand I bought when I wanted to treat myself, not the cheap six-packs that lasted longer.
The surprise must have shown in my face because she gave the smallest lift of her brows before stepping back.
I kept the thought to myself but she read me like a book.
"Your favorite, right?"
"It—it is. How did you know?"
She shrugged. "We're as good at our jobs as you are at yours."
Ellie came around the end of the table, a plate in one hand. “All right, so we’re not all strangers anymore…” She set the plate down in front of me and gestured to the woman with the beer. “Sabine, this is Cameron Holt.”
The woman's hand was warm and solid when it closed over mine. “Hi there. Call me Cam.” The words were short, but her voice carried a weight to it, like every sound had been considered before it left her mouth.
“Hi,” I returned, my grip brief.
Her crooked grin looked misplaced on her lean face, and I smiled back, against my better judgment. She took her hand back and handed me a plate. Barbecued chicken and bacon pizza with thin crust.
Another favorite. How the hell could they know that?
“Thank you,” I managed. Her smile quirked higher on one side, and she dipped her head in acknowledgment before turning to her plate.
“Where the hell did Alex disappear to?” Ellie looked around the kitchen, as though the fourth team member might be hiding behind the fridge.
Kara finished chewing a bite of pepperoni pizza before answering. “She’s in the command room. Wanted to get right into it, make sure everything synced and good to go.”
“Ah, well you’ll meet her later then. And you already know Kara and I.”
Kara, seated on my left, gave me a small smile that was gone as quickly as it appeared. I let my gaze sweep over them in turn, taking in their faces under the warm light. When I reached Ellie, she winked—a quick gesture that lightened the air without making a sound.
I wrapped my fingers around the neck of the bottle, the condensation cool against my skin, and took a long drink.
I let the cold fizz wash over my tongue, grateful for the familiar flavor.
My mind, though, wouldn’t stay still. Faces blurred with fragments of the day: the parking garage, the ride here, the firelight in the safehouse, Ellie squeezing my hand, Kara’s arm around me.
The hum of voices picked up as they started to pass boxes of pizza and other containers down the table, the smell of melted cheese and herbs cutting through everything else.
I picked up my slice, the heat pressing into my fingertips through the crust. Grease and seasoning brushed my lips as I took the first bite.
The flavor was rich and immediate, but before I could swallow, a dull throb flared in my ankle.
I set the slice down. “Does anyone have any pain medicine? Tylenol maybe?”
Ellie shook her head. “Ibuprofen. Better for swelling.” She was already pushing her chair back, the legs scraping lightly against the floor. “Hang on.”
She opened cabinet doors, one after another. The muted clink of bottles followed, then the sound of something rattling in a plastic container.
When she came back, she nodded at Cam. “Thanks for picking it up.”
She nodded brusquely, mouth full of pizza.
Ellie handed me two white pills. “Here. Two should do it.”
I chased them with a sip of beer. The fizz bit at my throat, cutting the taste of the pills.
Talk drifted toward the work at hand. The women traded a few clipped lines about schedules, who was covering which entry points, and how often the perimeter would be walked. It wasn’t tense, but there was a weight to the way they spoke, a focus that didn’t need raised voices.
Their laughter was warm enough to pass for normal.
But that voice still echoed in my head, familiar when it shouldn’t have been, and I couldn’t help feeling that every one of them was a danger I hadn’t chosen.
They fed me, smiled at me, carried me like I mattered—but their smiles came with rules, and their commands came with no space for questions.
A princess in a tower was still a prisoner, and tonight I was locked in with my captors.
As though she could read my thoughts, Kara stood and walked to my side.
“Time to go upstairs,” she said.
Before I could protest, she scooped me from the chair. My hands caught on her shoulder out of reflex, the hard line of muscle beneath my palms as solid as stone. My injured ankle didn’t jolt, but the sudden lift made my stomach flip, awareness of her strength crowding out everything else.
Her breasts were warm against me, her stride as steady as if I weighed nothing at all.
Against my better judgement, I allowed myself to rest my tired head on her shoulder as she climbed the stairs.
The laughter of the others followed us, easy and unguarded, but the sound only made the reminder sharper—Kara had decided, and my body went with her whether I wanted it to or not.