“I came to get Kitty.” No real secret there, either.

  “Such a knight in shining armor.” Jeremy sneered at his side.

  “Well, I felt bad.” Nick glared at him. “If I’d known how much of a dickhead my roommate was, maybe I could have stopped her from being trapped here in the first place.”

  The second punch caught him in the mouth. Those always hurt, with the face involved. But it had been worth it.

  “Mr. Rickles!” Fields’s voice had sharpened. “This isn’t your interrogation.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Rickles,” Nick added with as much of a grin as he could work up with his lips throbbing. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  Fields scowled. “Why would they send you?” He asked the question off-hand. “Why not choose more qualified people?”

  That didn’t seem to deserve comment so he remained silent.

  “There are more.” The doctor nodded. “Who is it?”

  Here’s where the ride started. “There’s no one else.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “This will be much easier if you tell me what I want to know.”

  “Yep.” Nick smacked the end of the word. “But that doesn’t mean I know anything.”

  Fields sighed. “You leave me no choice, then.”

  Jeremy stepped in front of Nick, massaging his knuckles.

  In response, Nick smiled at him.

  Chapter Seven

  The door swung open on a shriek. Jeremy and another guard shuffled in, dropping Nick in a bleeding heap in the middle of the room. He coughed, curling in on himself.

  Kitty didn’t remember getting up from the bed or going to his side, but that’s where she ended up. On closer inspection, his face was broken, bruised, and bloody in countless spots, and he rubbed his ribs as if there was also damage she couldn’t see.

  She glared at Jeremy from the floor, rubbing her fingers on Nick’s arm, afraid to hurt him more than he was. “He’s a mess.”

  He shrugged, patting his hands off on his pant legs. “He wasn’t telling Fields what he wanted to hear.”

  “Fields didn’t hit him.” She heard his smug triumph. “You hit him.”

  Jeremy didn’t answer, only offered her a mock salute as he turned to the door.

  “You didn’t deserve him,” she called after him. “You didn’t deserve him as a friend.” Jeremy paused, without turning back. Her anger, her hatred, spiraled through her. “And…and…” She tried to think of the meanest thing she could say to him. “And I’m glad Fields changed you. You deserve whatever you got.”

  His head rose, but when he looked back, he didn’t look angry.

  He was laughing. At her.

  “You think Fields did this to me? To everyone?” His eyes widened. “You do. You think that Fields did this to us.” He swatted his partner on the arm. “You hear that, Charles? Little Miss thinks that we’re victims. Poor us.” He made a production of rubbing at his eye.

  He chuckled, his hands on his hips. “Sorry to disappoint you, Kitty, but we knew exactly what we were doing. Fields offered us the drug, and we took it.”

  What? “You knew that he was giving you the drug? And you took it anyway?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Of course we took it.”

  “But…why?” What was the matter with him? He’d met them—Luke, Seth, Blue, her—right after they’d gotten out of Glory. Right after they’d been changed. He’d seen the effects. He’d heard how their town had died. “Why would you do that?”

  “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want to have super powers?” He snorted. “Well, not your power. That looks like it sucks. But no one else seems to get that one anyway.”

  Kitty steeled her features. He didn’t have to know that he’d scored a direct hit with that. “And the others?”

  “All of them. His entire squad took it,” Nick answered next to her. He sat cross-legged, dabbing at the tender spots on his face, his elbows resting on his knees. “Now that Fields is back and working with Goldstone, he promised to find them jobs as bodyguards or private soldiers. Mercenaries.”

  Surprised, she looked up at Jeremy. “You took the drug, risked your life, so you could get a better job?”

  Her horror made him laugh. “Don’t sound so snotty, princess. I’ve been to the Middle East. I’ve already risked my life for a job. At least this way I’m going to make a lot more money.”

  As he turned for the door, he nudged his head at Nick. “He’s beat up, but he’ll be fine.” He left, locking the door behind him.

  In his wake, the silence seeped into her. They’d taken the drug on purpose. She didn’t know if they knew all the risks, but they’d known enough, and it hadn’t mattered. Would others do the same?

  Nick shifted to his knees, as if to get up, but he stalled there, his eyes trained on the floor in front of him.

  “Are you okay?” She didn’t reach for him. He seemed untouchable. She hadn’t known him long, but in that time he’d proven one of the most approachable guys she knew. Arrogant, sure. Bossy, absolutely. But not shut-off, not like this.

  He shook his head, his eyes closing. His body shook. He fell backward, onto his backside, and dropped his head into his hands. Then he began to rock.

  She stifled the overwhelming urge to hug him. She didn’t think she’d ever seen someone as desperately in need of a hug. Instead, she whispered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head again, more vigorously, but this time his tangled thoughts said what he didn’t. It’ll be fine. I did a good job. Kenny and the other guys…they’re safe. And I didn’t tell them anything about her. Nothing. I didn’t say anything about any of them. I did a good job.

  He repeated those words in his head. They soothed him. In the silence, she struggled with her own roiling anger. How dare they? He’d been gone for hours. They must have terrorized him, trying to get information. What human did something like that?

  They’d wanted information about accomplices. Nick hadn’t given it to them. She couldn’t help her pride. Of course he hadn’t. Nick didn’t rat out his friends; it wasn’t who he was. If he wanted answers, Fields should have asked someone with questionable morals. Someone like Jeremy. Why hadn’t Fields interrogated his own men and left Nick alone?

  The answer came to her, obvious. Because they were all changed. They wouldn’t lie down and let someone push them around.

  When Nick’s breathing returned to normal, and he’d calmed enough, she asked, “What do you mean, you didn’t tell them anything about me?” What more could there be to tell? She’d been held hostage for months.

  He swallowed hard. I didn’t tell them you can manipulate thoughts.

  “Did they ask?” Terror swept through her. The assistant and the orderly. They knew. If they knew, they would come for her. Had they said something? Had he said something?

  His eyes lifted to hers, their depths intense. They asked if you can manipulate thoughts. I told them no. They said the assistant saw you. I convinced them that the assistant freaked out, and you used the advantage to escape. Your secret is safe. For now. He didn’t speak, leaving the message in his head. You’re safe.

  “I didn’t find any cameras or microphones. We’re alone. You can speak.” He’d lied for her, to keep her safe. “You protected me.” The weight of that settled into her stomach, warmed her in places she hadn’t known were cold.

  Of course I did. But he said nothing, only shrugged and shifted to his feet, as if to avoid eye contact. She stood to help him. He gently pushed her hands away and righted himself with a stumble. But when he tried to fully straighten, he winced, fingering his left side. “Think he might have bruised this rib.”

  She scowled, imagining horrible things happening to Jeremy but leaving them unsaid. She stood close enough to offer support if Nick needed it. “You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger to protect me.”

  He shrugged again, but this time he held her eyes, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a teasing grin. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

  Under his gaze, her face heated. Her breathing hitched, and the space between them felt heavy with tension and expectation. “Nick,” she whispered into the pregnant pause. “What’s going on here?”

  What? Nothing. He shook his head, his brows dropping. I don’t know. I can’t think.

  She nodded. Right. Too much. Truthfully, she didn’t know either, and she didn’t know if she wanted to think about it. They were here, alone together. Maybe it was best…

  Something still nagged at her. “Why did you come for me, Nick? Really?”

  He’d said he came because Seth and Blue couldn’t. It had been dangerous, and he must have known that there was a chance that he would be captured. That was a huge risk to take for someone he hardly knew. Yet, he’d risked it anyway. In their one interaction, she’d been borderline bitchy to him. So, what had made him come?

  “I should have stopped him,” he offered. “I knew Jeremy was capable of anything, and I didn’t stop him.” He met her eyes, his gaze pleading. “I’m so sorry. I should have pushed harder, talked to Seth. Done something.”

  “This isn’t your fault.” How could he even think that?

  “Of course it is. Seth never liked the guy, and I knew that. Jeremy had gotten even worse after his disciplinary hearing. I should have kept him out of this. Or I should have watched him closer. Something.”

  “You didn’t call Goldstone. You didn’t turn on your friends.”

  “Of course not.” He spat the words, as if he found the thought offensive.

  “Right.” She’d only known him a short time, but she couldn’t imagine that of him, either. “Jeremy did that. This is his fault. Not yours.” Only after she’d uttered the words did she realize that they applied to her, too.

  This wasn’t her fault, either.

  For the past few months, she’d beaten herself up for trusting Jeremy. Nick had tried to warn her, and Blue had wanted her to stay away from him, too. But no one would have guessed he would make her a hostage. “Maybe it’s time we both stop blaming ourselves for someone else’s mistakes.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

  “He fooled me, too, Nick.” She smiled. “He fooled me, and I’ve paid the price. I won’t make that mistake again. But I’m sick of the guilt. It’s eating me up, paralyzing me. I don’t want to be a victim anymore.”

  You’re no victim. You’re more of a survivor than you know. She was sure he’d have hid that from her if he could. He swallowed, but the action made him wince, which broke the spell between them.

  He was dirty, bleeding, and obviously hurting. They could both use a break from this conversation. “You need a shower.” Leaning over, she snagged the stack of linens off the bed and held it out to him.

  “Shower?” He stared at the folded fabrics, his nose wrinkled.

  “You’re a mess. You need to clean those wounds. And, well”—she inhaled—“I never knew when new sheets and clothes would arrive. When they give you fresh laundry, they’ll come to collect the dirty stuff soon. But they’ll take whatever isn’t on your body. Best to get into the cleanest stuff possible.” She put the pile back down and proceeded to sort through it. “Sheets, for the cots. One blanket a piece. There are two jumpsuits, as you see. Green, not orange this time. The socks with the treads. And a bar of soap.” She wrinkled her nose. “No towels. Never any towels.”

  She lifted two small plastic wrapped packets. “But new toothbrushes. So, yay.”

  “Yeah, yay.” A faint smile curved his broken lips. That was good. He glanced at the corner, where the pipe protruded from the ceiling. “What do I do?”

  “We’ll have to take turns. If it’s like the others, the water will be cold.” She handed him the soap. “Scrub fast, top to bottom. Try not to fall.”

  He accepted the gritty bar. This wasn’t going to be pleasant. “I’ve showered on plenty of slippery floors. Military, remember?”

  “So you’ve perfected the hip-width apart squat to keep your balance, then.”

  He demonstrated what she described. “See? What do you think?”

  She laughed, and it echoed off the concrete walls and floor. It felt good. She hadn’t truly laughed in months. Maybe longer. “Expert. Work those glutes.”

  His smile slipped, and so did hers. Oh no. She’d commented on his butt. She looked down quickly, her face heating up. She was so awkward.

  God, when she flushes… I have to do something. A cold shower sounds like a great idea. Suddenly, he unsnapped the top of his custodial jumpsuit.

  Against her will, her eyes followed his movements, and her mouth opened the slightest bit. She licked at her mysteriously dry lips, and her breathing hitched.

  Christ. She needs to stop doing that.

  He paused on the fourth snap. “You should turn around if you don’t want to see me naked.” Because I’m damn sure she doesn’t want to see what I’m hiding under this jumpsuit.

  Kitty spun so fast it made her dizzy.

  Then again, she had no idea when they’d had their MREs. It was dark outside their window, so…last night, possibly? Maybe lack of food was why she felt lightheaded.

  It definitely wasn’t from seeing Nick’s broad chest. He’d unsnapped so fast, the jumpsuit had been open to his waist. She’d caught chiseled muscles and acres of tanned skin. Stupid military-issue jumpsuits and their stupid easy accessibility.

  She stared at the wall, taking deep breaths and listening to the rustle of him stripping out of his clothes. He hadn’t been this attractive in San Antonio before she was taken. She only remembered bossiness and frustration, and him telling her what to do.

  Obviously, she’d missed a few key points.

  She did not want to think about him naked behind her. She didn’t want to put that image together with the warm feel of him the few times they’d come in contact as he helped her to escape. She certainly didn’t want to hear whatever was going through his mind.

  “Nick?” she called.

  “Yes?”

  “I think…” She inhaled a steadying breath. “I think, well, that it might be better if I don’t listen to you. If that’s okay with you.”

  He paused. “If you think it’s best.”

  It was definitely best. This entire situation was hard enough, without her hearing everything. Because what happened in Nick’s mind was as sexy as the rest of him.

  She closed her eyes, throwing up the walls as she’d done countless times before. She would have to remember to do so every morning.

  Surely they wouldn’t be here that long. “I’d imagine they’ll move us to separate rooms. They won’t want us to stay here. Together.” She tried not to let him see how hopeful she was they’d be separated, but she failed.

  “I’m sure they will, if they have extra rooms.” The water turned on and she listened to the trickle of it as it hit the floor. “I’m assuming this is an emergency location, though. They might not have excess space here.”

  Sweet goodness. She might be here, in this room, with Nick and his tanned, muscled skin for days? Even weeks or months?

  “Christ, that’s cold,” he muttered. She heard his bare feet pad across the concrete, and she shifted to give him as much privacy as she could.

  What sort of horrible people would leave them together? This was cruel and unusual punishment. Even prisoners in the worst conditions were separated by gender. Right?

  The litany continued in her mind as she listened to Nick snapping up his clean jumpsuit.

  How was she going to live with him?

  Fine, he’d been nothing but a gentleman to her. As they’d been escaping, he hadn’t even been overly arrogant or bossy. He’d told her what to do, yes, but he hadn’t been a jerk about it. And he’d come for her, when he hadn’t needed to.

  Maybe she needed to give him a break. It wasn’t like he wanted to be here, either.

  “Are you decent?”she asked.

  “Hardly ever. Most of the time I’m incredible.”

  A grin tugged at her lips as she turned. “Funny.” But the grin slipped when she caught sight of him.

  Nick Degrassi, wet from the shower, was gorgeous.

  She knew she shouldn’t think that, but it was exhausting to pretend she didn’t notice. Besides, she’d spent her whole life pretending she felt things she didn’t, and ignoring things she did. She could stop that, with her parents gone. Her father wasn’t here to preach about how carnal love was wrong, and her mother wasn’t here to nod along solemnly.

  More importantly, no one could hear her thoughts. She could think however she wanted to think. And she thought Nick was one sexy man.

  He ran his hand over his dark hair. She knew it was thick, but slick with water it looked glossy, too. There were his big brown eyes, the stubborn jaw, and his lips—sweet heavens, his lips.

  “You have to stop,” he whispered. “You have to stop looking at me like that. I can’t, Kit. It’s hard enough.”

  Kitty dragged her gaze from him and felt the fire in her cheeks. No, no one could hear her thoughts. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still obvious. She closed her eyes, wishing she could melt down the drain with the rest of his shower water.

  He didn’t say anything for a long minute. After they’d stood in silence for a while, he took her hand. She forced herself to look at him, even as embarrassment lit her like a torch.

  She wasn’t sure what she expected to find in his face. After she’d rebuffed him in the woods, he could have thrown it back in her face. But she didn’t find mockery or arrogance.

  He only looked sober.

  “I don’t believe for a second that you want anything to do with me. Not like that.” He stared over the top of her head for a minute. “At least, not now.” His eyes returned to hers. “But looking like you’d like to lick me doesn’t help me think ‘platonic.’”

  Oh, sweet heavens. So, he had known what she was thinking. And he was right. That wasn’t fair. She had no idea where these thoughts were coming from. Three days ago, she thought she disliked him. Now, she knew she liked how he looked, but she didn’t know him and he didn’t really know her.

 

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