He wraps his hands around my wrists and leads me into the kitchen. “Get dressed. Then we’ll talk. That towel’s calling my name and making my head spin. If it falls off we won’t be talking—trust me.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“After we talk, I promise I’ll kiss every inch of your skin until you’re on your knees begging me to stop.”
And with that, I hurry and put on the one other pair of scrubs I own and place the slippers on the windowsill to dry. Then I sit at the table, tapping my fingers, and stare at him, waiting. He tosses me a granola bar from his bag and leans against the wall.
“The Hole exists because people were stupid.” He takes a large bite out of his granola bar, leaving only half.
“That’s a little vague, don’t you think?” I say.
“You saw it in the video. It’s too late to stop him now.”
“More like propaganda, really. Tell me. How’d this happen?” I take a bite out of my snack and chew slowly while waiting for his response.
He pauses for a minute. “Well, society was all up in arms about the crime rate and unemployment that they failed to see the first commander rising through the ranks. He had a way about him—all charming and sly at the same time. Of course, he used it as an advantage—brainwashing people left and right. That alone should make you puke.”
“I just swallowed it.”
“Perfect. Thanks for the visual.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“All right, let me finish before I—”
I lean back in my chair, put my feet on the table, and lick my lips.
“You’re evil.”
“Okay, sorry… go on. I’ll behave.”
“Thank you. Here’s the most disturbing part—he killed whoever questioned his reasoning or opposed him. He had no morals or values. He worshipped the power of control. Supposedly, he grew up in a household where he was severely punished for bad behavior. But either way, his predecessor is no different. Rumor has it that he’s sick, Lexi—mentally sick.” He takes another bite and wipes his hands on his pants. “I’m betting that’s what happened to your dad. Anyone who gets as vocal as you say your dad did is put away. Sad part is… this commander is probably already training a successor.”
“Could it be Wilson?”
“I don’t know. It’s always a state-held secret.” Cole finishes his last piece and scratches his head while thinking.
I put the granola bar down on the table after only nibbling on it. I suddenly lost my appetite. My father’s face, while always smiling at me, carried the weight of the world in his wrinkles. Sadness lurked behind his turquoise eyes and now I understand why. It was only inevitable that he’d be taken away—inevitable that he’d become a martyr for what he believed.
Cole kneels down beside me and takes my hands into his warm grip. “I take my duties seriously, but I can’t ignore all this hatred I have tucked inside any longer. You showed me what it’s like to really care about a person for the first time in my life, and now that I have you, I’m not going to let you go.”
Zeus pushes Cole’s hands away from mine and swipes Cole’s cheek with his tongue. I laugh, although my heart’s in my throat, overwhelmed with emotion. I have no idea where it came from and never realized I felt this way until my lips move.
“I love you,” I say.
Before I can say it again, I’m caught between the wall and Cole. His hands trace my silhouette, stopping at my hips, and he pulls them into him.
I’m trembling. I’m trembling from wanting him so desperately it’s taken over my body.
He’s breathing faster, leaning into me, kissing my forehead, my temples, and my cheeks. He runs his lips down to my ear and whispers. “I love you too.”
For a second I’m frozen, my heart skips a thousand beats, and I’m swimming in ecstasy. “Kiss me—please—kiss me,” I say.
He takes my face between his hands, gently tracing my lips with his thumb.
“Please,” I beg.
His hungry eyes search me like he’s trying to read my mind—wanting to know exactly what I need from him. He leans his head down and I part my lips. His warm tongue lightly strokes mine. He moves his right arm to my waist and holds the back of my head with his left hand. Grabbing my hair, he pulls my head toward my shoulder, giving me kisses along my neck, shoulder, and across my collarbone. His touch is intoxicating.
I reach over, guiding his face back to mine. He sucks in my lower lip, caressing it with his tongue while staring into my eyes.
He’s so gentle. So gentle it drives me crazy.
I’m struggling for oxygen as his hands run down my arms. I don’t want to move an inch, afraid of breaking apart. I never want to break apart. His hands linger, his touch like feathers as he makes his way to the hem of my shirt. I lift up my arms and he pulls my shirt up over my head and tosses it. Zeus growls and that’s when I feel my straps slide off my shoulders.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me away from the wall and turning my back toward the bed. He unhooks my bra and I let it drop.
“Take off your shirt,” I say.
He lifts his T-shirt up over his head and chucks it behind him. He swallows hard and his words are soft and shaky. “Lexi,” he says, “I want you… all of you. I want nothing but you. It’s making me insane.”
Smiling, I say, “You have me. I’m right here. I’m yours.”
“Are you okay with me touching you like this? If not, I can just hold you and kiss you.” His fingers stroke the side of my face as he looks into my eyes for approval.
“I’m more than okay—trust me.”
He kisses me again, this time harder, longer, without coming up for air. I don’t want him to stop—I never want it to stop. He pulls me into his arms, picks me up, and carries me to the bed. He gently lays me down and straddles my hips. I shove his pillow onto the floor.
“I want to kiss your brand… if that’s all right?”
“I’d love that.”
And that’s exactly what he does. He gently kisses every millimeter of my brand. He rolls me onto my left side, my right side, and my stomach trying to heal my emotional wounds with the touch of his lips. And that, right there, is the best part about him—he cares.
“Come here!” I wrap my arms around his waist and bring his body down on the bed so he’s lying on top of me. He moves his right arm down to my thigh and grabs on, pulling my leg over his. I lean into him and he moans with desire. One hand strokes my hip while the other grabs my thigh. I guide his hand from my thigh and rest it on my lower back. I feel his heart racing as he breathes heavily into my ear.
“Oh God,” he says. He sits up and pulls me to the center of the bed. I yank him back down on top of me, kissing him. And we kiss each other as if we’ll never be satisfied. Again and again.
He pulls away. “Can you handle this?” I nod even though I never want to stop. He takes my face in his warm, large hands. “Should I stop?”
“You better not.”
“Whew, thank God, because I definitely don’t want to.” His lips press mine with such intensity I’m losing control.
“You feel amazing,” I whisper in his ear. He groans loudly. I push him off. His eyes are unfocused and eager. I place both my hands on his chest.
“Lay on your back. I need to feel you,” I say. He lies down, unsure. I swing my leg over and straddle him, running my fingertips over his perfect muscles. Is this really happening? Is he really mine? He places his hands on my lower back and pulls me down to him.
I don’t fight him. I won’t fight him. I’ve never felt this way before. He kisses me deeply as we rock together. He runs his hand down my spine and pulls my hips into him. I sit up.
I close my eyes. “Tell me this is real. Please tell me you really want me because…”
“Lexi,” he says. “It’s real. I’m real. We’re real. Everything’s real.”
He brings me back down, unties my ponytail, and runs his hands through my hair, rolli
ng me back over and pressing his pelvis into mine. I open my eyes and he’s staring at me with so much passion. A tear runs down my face and he wipes it away with his thumb.
“Babe, let’s take it slow. I don’t want to move too fast… I don’t just want to make love. I want to make our love last.”
“How am I supposed to argue with that?” I reason between kisses, trying to catch my breath.
“I need to tell you something. I need you to believe me. No matter what… you have to believe me.”
“Okay, I promise—I’ll believe you,” I say, pulling away from him.
“I love you.”
My heart skips a thousand beats and I smile.
“You have no idea how much I love you,” he says.
His eyes fill up with tears as mine spill over and I start to sob. He holds me as tight as he possibly can without crushing me, and I dig my face into his shoulder.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I get a chance to utter a word, Cole continues. “Stop. I don’t ever want you to question it. I love you. I’d give my life to save yours. That’s how much I love you. Don’t you dare ever doubt that… If something happens to me and I’m not here—”
“Cole, don’t say that. You can’t say that to me—ever. You’re not allowed to leave me. If you die, I die—right?”
A tear lands on my cheek. His tear.
I wrap my arms around his back and he squeezes me tighter. I don’t ever want him to let me go. Ever.
CHAPTER 15
The knock on the door makes us bump heads. Cole yanks the sheets off and pulls his shirt on. “Well… that felt great,” he says. “You have a hard head.” He throws my clothes to me.
“So I’ve heard.” I smirk at him.
I get dressed in a flash and call Zeus onto the bed. He smells the sheets and makes that awful sound he makes when he eats too fast. I rush into my room, bracing myself for the visitor, and peek around the doorjamb.
Cole opens the door and Bruno stands there with his arms crossed, holding a small, paper-bagged lunch. He looks ridiculous.
“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be or did you forget already?” Bruno asks. He frowns at Cole.
“What are you doing here?” Cole says.
“Your building’s on lockdown, so I’ll stay here with her. But unfortunately for you—you’re still mandated to show up, sucker!” Bruno waves hello and I wave back as I cross back into Cole’s room. Please don’t notice my rumpled clothes or frazzled expression.
“Fine. Just give me five minutes, and I’m outta here.” He throws on his uniform, straps on his guns, and all but sprints out the door with Zeus scampering behind him. With Cole gone, Bruno and I have some business to take care of.
“Morning,” Bruno says. “What do you say we get some training out of the way?”
“Sounds perfect,” I say as I pull my hair back into a ponytail.
“Okay, let’s start with a warm-up and then we can get down to business.” He drops his bag in the doorway and pulls out two long wraps. He opens his large hands and begins to weave them intricately through his fingers. When he finishes, he pulls out two more. I remove my ring and place it on the counter, away from the sink. I hope he didn’t notice.
“Let me show you something. First of all, if you want to protect your hands and wrists from an injury, you’ll have to wrap them a certain way. When we’re done with that we’re going at it full force—no holding back. If you can’t hang with us big boys, we have a serious problem.”
I hold out my hands, spreading my fingers as he loops the cloth through. When he’s done, both hands are tightly wrapped. I turn them over and admire them.
“You mean I’ll have a serious problem?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“I hope I remember how to do this.”
“What’s that old quote they used to say?” He snaps his fingers. “Oh, ‘practice makes perfect.’ And we’ll be doing it over and over until it’s ingrained into your brain and then it will become second nature.”
And so we begin doing push-ups, jumping jacks, and sprints across the room. Next, he shows me how to punch. He drills me like a soldier. “Jab, cross, uppercut,” he says over and over.
My arms feel like Jell-O, so he decides to show me some kicks. I learn front kicks and back kicks. I feel like an anchor has been attached to each of my limbs by the end.
“Well, you aren’t barfing today, so that’s good,” he says with a smile.
“This is true, but I still feel weak. I just want to get stronger.”
“Then you’re in good hands. I’ve been training since I was sixteen. I live and breathe this stuff.” He starts to unravel his hands. “In our training, we don’t use wraps anymore—too unrealistic. But for you, it’s wise to start with them until you get used to the grind.”
“Works for me. The last thing I need are broken wrists.” I follow his cue and begin to unroll my wraps as well. They fall to the floor, snakelike, in a pile.
“I think you’re doing just fine. Give yourself some credit.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
He takes a drink of water and offers me some. It’s quiet long enough to hear the pop, pop, popping echoing through the streets outside. I run to the window and look but can’t see anything but heavily armored tanks parked out front and guards directing limited personnel through the checkpoint.
When I get out of the shower, I feel refreshed. I brush my hair and place my ring back on my left hand where it belongs. Training makes me feel capable. It gives me what little confidence I need to survive, to feel good about myself, and grow stronger. And I need to grow stronger if I ever want to break free.
But just when I feel content, a loud banging on Cole’s door reverberates through my being. Bruno jumps up, startled, and cracks it open. I hear the terrifying, high pitch of a familiar voice and panic rises in my throat. Could it be? Why would he come here after we made a deal?
I sit on my mattress and hug my legs while waiting for the inevitable appearance of Wilson. And he doesn’t disappoint.
He struts in like a king, looking immaculate in his fresh-pressed, stiff uniform. His knee-high boots shine with a new coat of polish. He scans the room, resting his callous eyes on me.
I blink away the smell of his heavy cologne and stand. “Wilson, what a pleasure.”
“Don’t patronize me, girl. I have news for you. Bad news,” he says. He narrows his eyes and places his hand on the hilt of his gun. “It must be genetic, you know. The fact that you can complicate things when already complicated.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” My mouth turns down in a puzzled expression. I feel so vulnerable without Cole here.
“You’ve been accused—again,” he says. “Tell me something—do you honestly find pleasure being a whore?” Wilson whips out his gun and presses it to my forehead in one quick motion. “Are you trying to make me look like a fool in front of my men—in front of everyone? If you think for one minute I won’t pull this trigger because you think I need you, you’re wrong. I’m quite capable of finding another way to get to Keegan.” As he holds the gun to my head, he scans the room, taking in the drawings and finally resting on my ring.
I want to scream and beg but can barely breathe with the cold metal digging into my brow. How is it possible to be accused, not once, but twice? I’ve been so careful not to flaunt my love for Cole. I just don’t understand.
He lowers his pistol and then suddenly hits me across the face with it.
I crumple to the floor, holding my cheek and crying. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve done nothing wrong!” I’m lying. But there’s no way he could possibly know about us—right?
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a slut!” Wilson screams into my face.
Bruno walks in the door after hearing the commotion, his face a mask of confusion and horror. But he can do nothing but stand by and watch.
Blood trickles down my fa
ce from a cut in my cheekbone. I can already feel it swelling through my agony. My hands shake. My body tremors with fear.
“Any other sinner would be executed for what you’ve done!” Wilson pulls me up by my hair and pushes me against the wall. “But I can’t do that. The commander ordered me to give you one more chance. He seems to believe you’re the only one who can bring us Keegan.” His hot breath and heavy cologne coupled with my injury make my head pound with a ferocious headache. His eyes search mine with an evil glint and a wicked smile. Then his opposite hand puts away his gun and touches me. He kisses my neck and slobbers on my collarbone. He moans with delight as he runs his hands over my shirt and I close my eyes. My insides crawl with disgust and humiliation.
“If you fail, you’re all mine… and trust me—I will take it slow. Really slow.” His eyes undress me. Then he pulls back sharply and lets go. “Oh, and don’t forget. If you die, Cole dies. If it happens again, you’ll both die. Together—on stage!”
I slide down the wall, shock overtaking me. My heart thunders with adrenaline, and my brain feels like it’s bleeding from the inside. I put my hands on my face, feeling the swelling where the gun connected with my skull. Worst of all, he knows about Cole… but how? And I just want to disappear into a tiny million pieces. My worst fear, of all fears, has come to fruition.
“Okay.” As I reply, my eyes meet Bruno’s. He stands still as a statue in the doorway. He just witnessed the deal being made and my humiliation with it. I bow my head into my arms in defeat.
“See, Bruno, that’s how you get things done.” Wilson turns on his heel and smacks Bruno on the back, pulling him into Cole’s room.
I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to protect Keegan and warn Cole that Wilson knows. I’ve got to make Bruno promise he won’t tell a soul about what just happened. My brain feels overloaded and I sit, pressed against the wall, for what feels like hours. All I want is for Cole to wrap his arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay. This is so confusing. My head swirls, feeling foggy from the impact of his gun.