The Protectors Series Bundle (A superhero romance anthology) (33 page)

She unzipped his fleece and tucked her hand into his shirt. When she touched the wound, he shuddered and bit out a curse. His eyes popped, and his mouth fell open. She could feel his agony. The electric charge going through him. He was getting a small dose of what everyone else felt when she touched them.

Snatching her hand back, she stared up at him as his body still trembled. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help heal you. I—”

He blinked rapidly. “Shit, is that was other people feel? You pack a doozy.” It took several moments, but his trembling stopped. The blood flow stemmed. “That hurt like a son of a bitch, but I am starting to feel better.”

“Good.” She didn’t want to think about what would happen in the several hours it would take him to get his powers back. If she couldn’t touch him, she couldn’t heal him. Every time she tried, it would be like electroshock therapy.

When the remaining soldiers shuffled toward a side door, she assessed the distance between them and the Jeep. “What’s down there?”

Garrett leveled a gaze on her. “Cars and the war room.”

She raised an eyebrow. “War room?”

“Yeah. Peter will have to spin some story about why you guys have powers. No one knows what he did before he got to work with us. He’ll have to spin it somehow. Those guys…they’re not all bad. Most of them are just following orders.”

“Orders or not, they want us dead. We have to move. Can you walk?”

He nodded.

Supporting his weight, Symone half ran, half dragged him to the Jeep. She helped him into the passenger seat and gently closed the door. “I’m going to have to push this thing down the drive.” She handed him the gun. “In case we get company, can you provide cover fire?”

“Symone, you don’t have to do this. Just leave me. On your own, you’ll have a better chance.”

She set her jaw. “Like I told Jansen, and like you told me—I’m not leaving you. Where you go, I go.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Symone pulled the car behind her with Garrett’s dead weight inside. Sweat pouring from her brow, she gritted her teeth and pulled it out of view of the compound before running around to the driver’s side. Hopping in, she closed the door as gently as possible and reached under the console for the dash wires.

***

Garrett’s head rolled in Symone’s direction. There she was being amazing, and all he could do was lie here. “Where did you learn to hotwire a car?”

As the car purred to life, she slowly backed it out the rest of the way, keeping the lights off. They needed a serious head start, and there was no need to announce their escape. She cleared her throat as she eased onto the two-lane highway familiar to this part of Florida. “Before Peter got his hands on me, I was on the street. My stepdad decided my lung problems were too expensive to deal with, so he kicked me out at fifteen.”

Garrett mumbled a curse. “Where the hell was your mother?”

Symone shrugged and floored the gas. “She was a junkie and never around much.” She cleared her throat again, so she could speak around the hurt and betrayal. “Anyway, you learn to take care of yourself quick. To make some money, I joined a crew and boosted cars.”

Garrett mumbled something about tales of a misspent youth. “How did Reaper find you?”

Symone didn’t like to talk about it—her life before. “I—um. He was looking for subjects, I guess. Looked in the local area for sick kids, offering the parents reprieve. My parents were all too happy to sell me off. Too bad I didn’t live with them anymore. Though Peter’s people found me easily enough at the free clinic. They offered to make me healthy.”

“You didn’t believe him?”

“Where I come from, some rich white dude shows up offering to cure all your problems, you take to the hills, cause likely he wants something you’re not willing to give in return. By the time he found me, I’d been on the street for six months. I knew better than to trust some snake oil salesman. When I didn’t go willingly, they found the abandoned house I was sleeping in and took me by force. Held me in their lab for over two years, until Cassie rescued me and the others a year and a half ago.”

“Shit. I’m so—”

“That’s not even as bad as some of the others.” Eager to fill the silence, she asked, “How the hell did you join his merry band of mercenaries?”

“Well, I told you part of it. I was perfectly healthy. But I carry the gene for ALS. The mild tremors had started by the time I did my last tour. I was dying.”

“What about your family?”

“My folks were gone. Michael was with an aunt while I was deployed.” Garrett shifted, grimacing as he leaned his good shoulder against the passenger door. “That’s when Symcore came looking for injured soldiers for a special program.” He shrugged. “I thought I was going to be riding some desk, analyzing data or something.”

“Instead, they made you into a super villain.”

He slid her a glance. “I didn’t know. None of us knew.”

Two hours and three stolen cars later, Garrett rolled his head to face Symone as they pulled into a hotel. He frowned as he scanned the hotel entrance, noting the valet, the gold embossed awning, and the well-dressed patrons. “Kind of fancy, isn’t it? So much for hiding out.”

She smirked, and the quirk of her mouth, formed a dimple in her left check. A faint ember of desire bloomed in his blood. “They won’t be expecting a place like this. Plus, if I can get one of the suites, it’ll come with a laptop, and I can tap into the security feed and see anyone coming.”

He shook his head. “You say it like you’ve done this before.”

“Nope, but I can wing it.” She parked at the far end of the lot, nearest the bungalows. “Stay here. I’ll be back to get you in five.”

“How are you going to—”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

As she sauntered off, he couldn’t help but watch her camo-clad ass as she sauntered away. The ember in his chest quickly turned into kindling in his crotch. Shit. He had problems. Yeah she’d slept with him, but that didn’t mean it was going to happen again. He might be half way in the hole in love with her, but she had already made it clear she didn’t feel the same. “Get a grip, man.”

Garrett occupied himself with trying to figure out how the siege went wrong. It had been successful, but he questioned if Symone’s crew had left them behind on purpose. Maybe not Cassie, but Jansen made it clear he’d wanted Garrett gone, if not dead.

Garrett shook his head. Jansen hadn’t had anything to do with Michael stopping them—shooting him. Garrett had sworn to protect his little brother. He should have just left Michael at their aunt’s. At least he’d be safe from maniacs like Reaper. What the hell had he dragged his brother into?

“Seen anything unusual?”

Symone startled him. But his body responded to her voce like she’d stroked him, sending a tiny electric current flowing straight to his cock.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Were you able to get us a room, considering we have no money?”

She grinned. “Oh, ye of little faith.” She opened his door, stepping into his body to help him out of the car.

He caught whiff of her lemon shampoo, and his cock stirred to life. Fantastic. Considering the roasty toasty blast she’d given him when she’d tried to heal him before, if he touched her again, he’d end up meeting his maker.

“Their business center is located just off the lobby, so I walked right in and helped myself to their records and one of the dummy credit cards accounts Cassie gives us. Presto, we have a booking in the presidential suite. Which is more of a secluded bungalow really.”

He blinked at her while swinging his legs out of the car. They felt like lead. She may not have been a techno terrorist like Reaper said, but she was handy with a computer.

“It was that easy, huh?”

She shrugged. “When we first got to the cabin after our rescue, I was pretty shell shocked. I would only really talk to Jansen. Clung by his side like he was the second coming or something. He taught me about computers and stuff.”

When Symone wrapped an arm around Garrett’s waist and tucked his arm over her shoulder, he asked, “So you and Jansen—have you ever have a thing…” He let his voice trail off.

She stared at him, wide eyed incredulity etched on her face. “Have you forgotten that I can touch anyone, besides you, it seems? Kind of makes it hard to have any kind of thing with anybody. Besides, Jansen is more like my teacher and mentor. There’s never been anything between us.”

More pain radiated through Garrett’s gut as he spoke through clenched teeth. “You sure he knows that?”

She didn’t answer.

Once they were up in the bungalow, she laid him down. As soon as his back met the cool sheets, he groaned. For one blissful moment, he was in heaven. If he could just stay there and rest for—

“No sleeping.” Symone’s voice was firm. “We might have staved off the shock for now, but I need to do something about the gunshot wound. We got lucky when Michael shot you. If his aim had been better, you’d be dead. Without Morgan or Alex, we’re exposed. I need you to heal so we can run.”

He didn’t want to listen. He just wanted to sleep. His eyelids, heavy and unresponsive to her commands, began to droop again. She shook his shoulder. “Garrett, please.”

The concern in her voice made him want to listen, but his body refused to respond. Until she touched him.

The charge exploded under his skin, and his eyes popped. He felt his mouth open, but no sound came out. The agony pierced his whole body, and part of him wished for death. Unable to fight the pain, he succumbed, welcoming the numbing blackness of. But instead, the pain ebbed into the pleasant tingles he was used to when Symone touched him.

He took in long deep breaths, counted each to ten, and released. He made his toes submit, then his feet, his calves, thighs, torso—all the way up to his head, he forced himself to relax. To give in to her. When he opened his eyes again, her face was contorted into one of agony. As she rolled in her lips, her brow furrowed over eyes that she squeezed so tight they would need a crow bar to open. Garrett didn’t need to be able to smell the tangy, salty tears to know she wept. Streaks of wetness lined her smooth face. She was crying. For him.

Garrett parted his lips to tell her everything was okay, that she didn’t need to cry for him. That she wasn’t hurting him. But he couldn’t get his voice box to cooperate. Instead, the sounds of her sobs filled the silence.

“Garrett, I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but please don’t die. Please don’t die. You’re the only person in years I’ve been able to touch. Please, I don’t want to be the one to kill you. Please be okay.” Another sob shook her body. “I’ve been so alone. I can’t even give anyone a hug in case we make accidental skin-to-skin contact. I’m so used to never touching anyone that I keep everyone away. Until I met you.”

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. “S-Symone. Doesn’t hurt.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and the words came out sounding like he’d just consumed a pint of Jim Beam. “Feels like before.”

She brought her head up and blinked. Frowning, she looked down his body. “You stopped shaking.”

He nodded. Desire chased the tingles. As they sat there on the bed for several more moments, he held her hand as she cried. The wracking sobs shook her body. And all the while, she continued to heal him. Asking nothing in return, except for the pleasure of being able to touch somebody.

She lay beside him, never removing her hand from his side. Even though it drained her energy, she didn’t stop. She gave him all she had and healed him.

Garrett eventually drifted off to sleep. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he woke, Symone was sprawled across his body like she was a throw cover. Her hand stayed locked on his wound. And he watched the way her back softly lifted and fell in time with her breathing. She’d finally stopped crying and gone to sleep.

In the darkness he held her, loving the feel of her curls as they ticked his chin. Even though his senses weren’t back in full force, his nose registered the faint smell of her lemon shampoo. And the distant hint of the Orange Blossom flower she’d had in her hair the day before. For weeks, he’d imagined what it would be like to wake up next to her, holding her. Now that he’d been here, he didn’t want to let her go.

She shifted so she lay prone on top of him, the warmth of her center lining up against his groin. He groaned. So not what he needed right now. But his body disagreed. He told himself she needed sleep. His cock told him he needed to sink into her and forget their little adventure for an hour or two. Forget that he’d led her team into a trap. Forget that his own brother had turned against him.

Symone shifted again, rubbing her body against him. His body arched into hers, and she nuzzled his neck. Garrett lifted his head and kissed the top of hers. She mumbled something unintelligible, and he reigned in his body’s driving insistence. Drifting off to sleep again, he felt like he was floating. Drifting on a blissful cloud with a woman he cared about wrapped around him.

Something was wrong. Anxiety had his hairs standing on end. He opened his eyes to see the ceiling a mere two feet from his head. Risking a quick glance around, his question was confirmed—he was flying.

The idea of having a power he couldn’t control, irked him.