Being Emerald (3 page)

“Okay.” Her voice quavered. She was completely unraveled. Too many strong energies in such an enclosed space.

“Come on. They’re waiting for us.”

She gave her stomach a few more seconds to settle, and then preceded him out the door. They walked side by side down the hall, the quick snap of her heels on the tile in sync with his combat boots.

Impulsively, she slipped her hand into his, and he didn’t blink at the touch. Almost to the door of the meeting room, his steps faltered. He slowed, looked down at their joined hands, and up until their gazes connected for an endless second. His expression revealed he’d not known she’d grown up Amber.

Laila crooked a finger, a request for him to come closer. He brought his head near hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Simply because of his nearness, she sensed his mood again, and the change was absolute. The siege of anger, hatred and pain had lessened.

“Come on.” He freed his hand, and stepped aside so she could enter the room.

Everyone looked at her when she re-entered. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I’m feeling a bit under the weather today.”

General Morgan’s expression conveyed concern. “Well let’s wrap this up, then.”

Laila nodded her thanks to the General, sat, and avoided eye contact with everyone in the room.

When the meeting adjourned, she remained at the table to avoid getting pulled into a conversation. The problem was Sydney Parr remained, too.

She didn’t need to look up to know Sydney’s striking, light green eyes bore down on her. She could no longer pretend she hadn’t noticed Sydney wasn’t leaving. With her caramel skin and dark hair, the exotic-looking woman’s bitchy glare made Laila feel like shrinking away. Sydney scanned her face, then the new emerald tattoo circling her wrist, and malevolence marred the woman’s beautiful features.

The prejudice and slurs would come next. She might have an emerald band around her wrist, but to most, it didn’t matter. She would always be an Amber—stupid, diseased, inferior.

“You’re Emerald now?”

“Yes.” Laila smiled and looked pointedly at Sydney’s Sapphire tattoo. “And you’re not.”

“Don’t let that green around your wrist make you think you’re better than everyone else. You’re still spawned from inferior stock.”

“I earned my designation. I wasn’t born into it like you were. Looks like you were a mere eye color away from growing up in Amber with me.” Laila knew better than to bait the woman like that, but she couldn’t help herself.

“He’s not into you.”

“Who?”

“Morgan. It was pretty obvious he was touching you to irritate Rock.”

“I agree.”

Sydney nodded. “As long as you know your place.”

Rock walked back into the conference room. His gaze ping-ponged between them, finally landing on Laila. He stared at her, as if he inspected her insides. Peered directly into her soul.

She fought the urge to squirm. He did an excellent job of making her feel as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

He frowned and gestured toward the door. “Sydney, may I speak with you?”

“Of course. Excuse me.” As she rose from the table, she gave Laila a sugary-sweet smile. “It was nice chatting with you.”

Rock followed Sydney out.

Laila berated herself for standing up to Sydney and pissing her off. She’d handled those kinds of comments better. Ultimately, she didn’t regret what she’d said.

Taking a jab at Sydney was not the only situation she could have handled better that morning. She couldn’t lose it as she had in the meeting. Letting emotions, hers or another’s, draw unwanted attention to her could be a fatal mistake. One she couldn’t afford if she was going to complete the mission—both missions.

Laila lay wide-awake in her dark bedroom. It was becoming a pattern. The night before, she hadn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour or two. The whole move to the Emerald Zone had her out of sorts.

Five years ago, when her IQ testing promptly landed her a Sapphire designation and a one way ticket out of the Amber Zone. It had been a brutal adjustment. She’d thought she was going to a new, better place. She’d been a child who dreamed of happily ever after with the Sapphire Zone being a land of unicorns and rainbows. It had taken no time at all to realize she was expected to pick up the unicorn shit.

Her naiveté at the tender age of twenty-one was laughable. No one had told her when she’d been hustled off into Sapphire that the majority of people living in her new zone would treat her as if the tattoo around her wrist was still amber instead of the rich blue she’d worked so hard for. Her physical characteristics marked her as Amber. It didn’t matter what color was around her wrist.

The Emerald Zone didn’t seem much different. Bigger house, different color around her wrist, but still, the day in and day out of her life remained the same. People stared at her as if they might be able to spot her defects. She rarely left her apartment, except to go to her office. In the past five years, as Morgan Jr. came into power, the National Guard’s constant, intimidating presence and the growing undertones of fear she sensed in practically everybody she met made her increasingly uneasy. Mostly she hid, submerging herself in her program.

Tonight, she was more tired than she could ever remember being, yet her mind refused to rest. She didn’t consider herself a worrier, but the complete upheaval of her life, combined with the growing apprehension about her Resistance mission had led her to this—another stint of tossing and turning, racing thoughts, and now, something new to think about—Rock.

She swung her feet off the edge of the bed. The late spring breeze moved the curtains of the window overlooking her street. She’d seen him arrive at his home, which was across the street from her own new monstrosity.

To know someone like him was so close was maddening. Her heartbeat gave a little flutter. She’d met him once before, on the first day she’d been granted access to The Onyx Zone Recovery Compound. They called it OZ. It had been an introduction in passing, shared hellos and then they’d gone their separate ways. She’d been to the compound several times since, transferring items necessary for the trip from her office in the Peacekeeper’s Compound to the tiny, makeshift space they’d allotted her in OZ. Many times she’d sat there alone, gazing out the window, watching Rock jog the perimeter of the compound before the heat of the day became oppressive.

Maybe he suffered like her.

She stood and pulled the curtain back.

A faint light radiated out his front windows. She checked the time. Ten fifteen. Laila slipped on her flip-flops, treaded down the steps and out her front door. His house was modern and looked larger than hers. Its jutting roofline accommodated vertical transom windows at the peak before another plane sliced down the front of the house.

She felt him even now as she crossed the street and entered his yard. He was calm and lonely. The rage from earlier in the day had diffused. The connection between them dumbfounded her. It was as if a part of her had slipped into its rightful place the first time she’d reached out to see if she could feel him.

He’d been raised Amber. If he didn’t want company, the door would be locked. She turned the knob, and the door swung inward into a silent great room bathed in dark shadows. He sat toward the back of the space underneath a light. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she approached him. His back was to her as he fiddled with something at the kitchen island.

She cleared her throat. “I saw your lights on.”

There was no element of surprise in his expression as he glanced up at the single light shining over his head. “Barely.”

She smiled. “How do you stand it? It’s a ghost town here.” She laughed nervously. “I thought I saw tumbleweeds rolling down the street.”

He shrugged. “I’m not here often.”

“I can see that.” She scanned the clothes spilling out of the duffel bag on the floor of the great room.

“You were Amber?”

She faced him and met his gaze. “Yes. I was designated Sapphire due to my IQ scores.” The intensity of his stare made her uncomfortably self-conscious, causing her to turn away. She crossed to his refrigerator, opened it and stuck her head into the cool air. “Milk? That’s all you have?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught him shoving whatever he’d been doing into a drawer. “What’s that?”

“A project.”

“Really? You’re going to make me ask?”

“I don’t want you to ask. It’s none of your business.” He walked to the fridge, opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. He poured some into two short glasses and handed her one. He downed his and refilled it.

Laila took hers and wandered into the great room. It was difficult trying to slip back into her old self—Amber Laila. That girl didn’t fit as comfortably as she used to. That fact saddened her more than she wanted to acknowledge at the moment.

Flipping on the video feed, she plopped down on the couch. Rock followed and lowered himself next to her. They sat shoulder to shoulder. “Where’d they put you?” he asked.

“Across the street.”

He nodded. “They’re filling the street house by house. You’re the third person to get designated Emerald since I got here last summer.” He clinked his glass with hers. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he practically growled, then threw back his drink. “What happened this afternoon when you left the meeting?”

She couldn’t tell him the truth, and refused to lie. She raced to find the right words, and the longer his stare bore into her, the angrier his expression became. Finally, she shrugged and gave the same lame excuse she’d used earlier. “I felt a little overwhelmed.”

“By Garret’s presentation?”

She broke their eye contact and feigned interest in the video playing. “No.” She felt him staring at her. Waiting.

“Morgan was touching you. Has he done that before?”

“No. I think his advances were for your benefit.”

“Probably were. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not the only person who thought so.”

“Sydney?”

Laila nodded.

“Let me know if she bothers you again. I told her to communicate through me from now on.”

“Why?”

“It didn’t take a mind reader to tell she was being nasty. It was written all over your face.”

“Oh.” He smiled down at her. He was gorgeous when he smiled. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I got the distinct impression there was some hostility there between you and Morgan.”

“That is an understatement.”

“I’m not a fan either.”

His gaze was hard. His jaw clenched. “Don’t worry. Now that I know you don’t want him touching you, he won’t get the opportunity again.”

“Nice sentiment.” She shifted and laid her head against his arm. “But Morgan can pretty much do whatever he pleases.”

“No, he can’t. Not this time,” he mumbled.

Laila let the comment go. Even with all her barriers up, she felt his anger flare, but it was nowhere near the level he’d escalated to that afternoon.

Tucking her hand between his bicep and torso, she snuggled close. It had been so long since she’d felt the trademark unconditional acceptance from another Amber. She’d never gotten an opportunity to experience the protection and care an Amber man instinctively exhibited. Maybe now. She sighed, contented. After all the years living alone in the Sapphire Zone, she finally had the touch, the sense of belonging she needed again.

God, she’d agonized at the loss all those years ago. Eventually, she found the only way to cope with total isolation was by locking her emotions down and ignoring her need. Her refusal to let the solitude affect her helped her survive the complete disconnect from everyone and everything she’d ever known. Now, sitting there, the locks broke and relief flooded her.

“It feels so good.” She didn’t need to elaborate. She’d felt his loneliness.

Rock wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in so her cheek rested on his chest.

“I missed it so much,” she whispered. She wasn’t alone anymore. Laila tried to swallow around her tight throat. But with her next breath, her composure fractured. Hot tears streaked down her face. When he squeezed her tightly and shushed her, his massive arms weighing heavily and giving comfort, she cried harder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and rocked her tenderly.

Mortified, she started to pull away. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into his side. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

She gave up trying to hold it all in.

By the flickering light of the video screen, Laila cried in Rock’s arms. He held her, stroking her hair and shushing her. His chest was tight and his stomach swam with a queasy feeling of foreboding. His earlier conversation with his father replayed in his head and his commitment to this woman who had so little and needed so much solidified.

He absorbed her weight as she burrowed into him, desperately clutching the material of his tear-dampened shirt. She was starved for the unconditional acceptance and physical touch they’d grown up with.

“Lie down. Put your head in my lap.” His voice was gruff with emotion, even to his own ears. She tilted her head back and gauged his expression with hope-filled eyes. His heart broke for her, and not able to face her pain, he had to look away. She stretched across the soft leather of the couch, her head pillowed by his thigh. He sought to ease her misery through the continual movement of his hands, trailing his fingers along the exposed skin of her arm and smoothing her hair away from her face. Her sobs subsided into an occasional hiccup.

Soon, his hand at her waist moved with the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing. She seemed smaller than she had when she sat across the table from him at the briefing. Her coconut-scented hair drew him closer and made his mouth water. Tonight, instead of her professional attire, she wore a tank top and lightweight shorts. This was a side of her he hadn’t seen.

He’d barely survived a year outside the Amber Zone. The pervasive hush here seemed amplified, especially when he’d first arrived. It was the complete opposite of the life they’d been used to. Amber was full of noise, of people, of sex. And, it was safe. Even with all those people crammed into tiny little spaces, he’d never felt safer.