Unleashing the Storm (42 page)

Tom.

She
couldn’t stop thinking about him. Heck, she still smelled him on her skin, even
though she’d showered. Twice. It was like he was a part of her now, inside her.

She
touched her belly. Yes, he was inside her.

Damn
him.
She hated him for how easily he
could have followed his orders. Even after having sex with her, he could have
done it.

Sure,
he’d eventually changed his mind, and she supposed she should be concentrating
on what he
had
done, rather than what he
could have
done. But she
wasn’t ready to do that yet.

Didn’t
know if she’d ever be ready, no matter how much she loved him.

Time
drifted away with the thunderstorm, and eventually Haley appeared, wearing a
different outfit than she’d worn earlier, and Kira suspected that Remy’s
enthusiasm might be as hazardous to clothing as Tom’s.

The
phone rang, but Remy must have picked it up, because it stopped after two
rings.

“Sorry
about disappearing on you like that,” Haley said. “I don’t know what Ender told
you about Remy, but—”

“Bebe?”
He clomped down the stairs and grabbed the keys off
the table. “The ACRO jet’s on approach with Akbar and Sheila coming in off a
mission. Sheila’s hurt, but there’s a storm over the runway and the plane can’t
land. ATC wants me to move it.”

“Have
fun.”

He
winked at her. “I already did.” With a nod at Kira, he sauntered out the door.

“What
does he have to move?”

“The
storm.” Haley sank onto the couch. “He can control the weather. And sometimes,
like you just saw, it controls him.”

“I
can understand that.”

“I
know. Just think about what we said about Ender and ACRO. Both are demanding
and tough, but there’s a lot of good there too.”

Before
the tears began again, Kira stood. “Thank you, Haley. I’m going to try to get
some sleep.” She headed toward the stairs, but before she mounted them, she
said over her shoulder, “Oh, and Geordie promised not to scratch the furniture
anymore.”

KIRA
COULDN’T SLEEP. Her mind reeled with the new information and old memories, and
fear for her future kept butting in. And she knew it was a bad idea, but she
wanted to talk to Tom. She loved him, hated him, wanted him to suffer like she
was, wanted him to be okay. Basically, she was one big mess.

He,
on the other hand, had probably already moved on, could even now be rolling
around with someone new.

Sitting
up in bed, she reached for a tissue on the nightstand, but her hand went to the
phone.

Not
a good idea.

But
once again, her heart overruled her head, and with trembling fingers, she
dialed the number for Tom’s cell phone, the one he’d given her when he’d cuffed
her to his bed. She nearly hung up on the second ring, but when she heard a
gruff “What?” on the other end, she froze.

“Goddammit,
what?
” Silence, and then a soft “Kira? Kira, is that you?”

“Yes,”
she croaked.

“Are
you okay? Where’s Haley?”

“Haley’s
downstairs. Everything’s fine.” If the fact that she was dying inside was fine.
“I just…I guess I just wanted to know…when did I become more than a job? Was I
ever more than a job?”

For
the longest time, she heard only the sound of his breathing, and her heart sank
lower in her chest with every passing second. Then she heard a strange sound on
the other end, almost like a sob, and when Tom spoke, his voice was gravelly.

“You
were special from the beginning.”

“And
yet, you could have—”

“I’d
have paid for it, Kira. I’m paying for it anyway.”

God,
she actually felt sorry for him, which pissed her off. “You aren’t the only
one, Tommy.” She squeezed her lids tight to keep from crying again. Her eyes
were already aching and swollen, and she didn’t want to make it worse. “Do you
even miss me?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“More
than you know.”

“But
you still don’t want me.” She let out a strangled sound of horror at the way
her mouth kept falling open and saying stupid things. Even if he wanted her,
could she get past her issues? Or was she clinging to them like a shield
because it would be too painful to know that the only reason they weren’t
together was because he didn’t want her and his child?

When
he said nothing, she had her answer. Furious, hurt and shaking, she hung up the
phone without another word.

Now
she could sleep, and with any luck, she’d wake up and find out that this was
all one big nightmare.

Ender
had been severely light-headed for two days. He’d blamed the stress of the
situation with Kira and his lack of protein but hadn’t rectified either
situation. When he collapsed on his kitchen floor, he wasn’t surprised as much
as he was pissed at suddenly being rendered helpless. He was even more pissed
to be discovered lying there by Remy.

“What
the hell is up with you?” Remy drawled, having walked in like he owned the
damned house.

Rescued
by a motherfucking SEAL. What a way to go.

“You
do realize you said that out loud, asshole.” Remy’s drawl floated somewhere
above Ender.

“I
can’t get up,” he murmured. God, his eyes were heavy.

He
stared up at the ceiling, which he knew was white but now looked like a hazy
shade of dark gray. He blinked twice and wondered if the lights were on or off and
then realized that it didn’t matter.

“Are
you shot or did you break something?” Remy asked, standing over him. Ender felt
the SEAL’s fingers on his pulse.

“No,”
he managed.

“You
need a doctor.”

“Just
leave me alone, SEAL. I’m fine.”

“Yeah,
you’re about as fine as Kira is,” Remy said, and Ender grunted as he struggled
to sit up.

“Is
she all right? Is the baby—”

“The
baby’s fine, man. She’s miserable without you…she just hasn’t come to terms
with everything yet.”

“Doesn’t
matter.” Ender thought back to the phone call—his chance, probably the last
chance, to tell her that they could make things all right somehow.

“You
didn’t do something to yourself because of Kira, did you?” Remy asked, a note
of concern tingeing his thick Southern drawl.

“Yes.
Not what you’re thinking, though,” Ender muttered. “Long story.”

“Well,
you can tell it to the doctor.”

“Private,”
Ender said.

“Yeah,
yeah, I wasn’t going to parade you through the halls, even though I know that’s
what you’d do to me.”

Well,
yeah, that was definitely true. Good thing Remy was a hell of a lot nicer than
Ender could ever be. Fucking frogman.

“You
said that out loud too, asshole,” Remy said. “But don’t worry—I always knew you
liked me a lot more than you let on.”

Ender
wanted to give him the finger, but didn’t have the energy for even that small
task. “Just tell Kira…” he started.

“Tell
her what?”

Ender
shut his eyes. “Nothing.”

Instead
of helping him up, Remy slid down to the floor next to him. “It’s all right to
have baggage, you know.”

Ender
cut his eyes toward the dark-haired man. “Now you’re a shrink? I thought all
you were good for was creating thunderstorms.”

“How
the hell were you ever a team player?” Remy asked him.

“It
wasn’t as hard for me to be one back then,” Ender said, more to himself than to
Remy.

Ender
had joined the Army, spent two years as a mechanic before being selected for
Ranger school. Thirty days into the training, he’d been pulled aside and told
about a very special group they thought he’d be an excellent addition to.

He
didn’t know much about special abilities at that point, hadn’t really
considered that there were others out there like him. He just knew he was
faster than anyone he’d ever known, that his eyesight was way better than the
twenty-twenty needed to be an effective sniper and that the training for Delta
Force had been a fucking breeze.

He’d
loved it—every single minute of backbreaking, mind-bending training that
stretched every normal limit he ever had.

He
was always careful not to let on that he was superhuman fast, hard as that was
to tamp down. His eyesight was a benefit to the entire team, even though
scientists wanted to study it and his body and everything else about him.

He’d
blown it off and done his best to make a career for himself. A life.

His
unit had been tight-knit. He traveled mainly with the same four men, worked
under a general who commanded a large number of Deltas housed on the Fort Bragg
base, and no one but his men and their wives knew what he was. To the rest of
the world, he was a mechanic working in the motor pool.

John
“Digger” Kramer, Ferdinand “Aces” Ramirez, Chase Holden, Damien “Devil” Canter
and him, Tom “Ender” Knight, made a hell of a good team. For five good years,
they ruled the world, wiping out terrorism and all its evils.

At
the end of those five years, he killed his best friends in the world. In those
brief moments, one of their own had become their worst enemy, and Ender would
later learn that this was a consequence of not understanding—or being able to
control the gift.

Damien
had been a pyrokinetic. And even if Ender had known at the time, it wouldn’t
have made his decision any easier. He took credit for Dev’s plane crash too,
since he knew he’d be spending the rest of his life in jail, and the man he’d
found in the cockpit claimed he’d been blinded. Claimed he was haunted.

Ender
knew now that what Dev told him was no joke. All special-ability types were
haunted, no matter how well adjusted they were.

You’re
a monster.

Yes,
he was. And he’d lost Kira and his chance at a life with her forever with that
admission. Better for her and their child, but it still hurt like hell.

“My
team stopped trusting me toward the end,” Remy said, and
Christ.
Ender
realized he’d spilled that whole fucking story out loud.
Dammit.
“It
hurt like hell not to be with them anymore, but I’ve got a new team now. One
that you’re a part of.”

“I
don’t want you watching my back,” Ender said, which was ironic since he was
still flat on his. “I’m fine on my own.”

“Yes,
fine,” Remy said dryly. “You might not want me watching your back, but I’ve got
yours anyway.”

“Great—want
me to tell you that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside?”

“You’re
an asshole.”

“Everyone
says that like they’re surprised.”

“You
love her, you know.”

“It
doesn’t matter,” Ender managed quietly.

“That’s
the only thing that matters,” Remy said. “I’m going to help you up now.” But
Ender was too unsteady even for that. Remy slammed Ender over his shoulder, and
fuck,
that knocked the wind out of him. “You’re fucking heavy as hell.
I’d better get some kind of hazard pay for this one.”

KIRA
SLEPT FOR FOUR HOURS. When she woke, she showered and dressed in a sweatshirt
and a pair of sweat shorts Haley had loaned her. The clothes were too big, but
they were soft and comfy and the floral fabric softener smell temporarily
masked the earthy scent of Tom that wouldn’t scrub off her skin.

The
nap and shower had breathed life back into her, and for the first time since
Tom dumped her, she was ready to make some decisions.

What
Remy had told her about Itor’s plans terrified her to the marrow. Even if she
was willing to take a risk with her life, she wouldn’t risk her child’s. She
might not like it, but ACRO could protect them. She had to stay.

But
what about Tom? The phone call had put some things in perspective. Namely, that
her feelings regarding what he’d been sent to do to her were moot, because he
didn’t want her anyway. The call had also brought up questions. Did he plan to
be involved in their baby’s life at all? Did he expect her to lie about
paternity so he could weasel out of involvement? How would she react when they
ran into each other on base?

Stop
it.
She had to stop thinking about
it. She had bigger things to worry about, like the fact that hunger pangs were
gnawing at her stomach and if she didn’t eat, she’d probably pass out.

Stomach
growling, she padded toward the kitchen, slowing at the sound of Haley and Remy
speaking in hushed voices.

“…I
don’t know, Remy.”

“We
have to tell her.”

“I
just think we should wait until we know for sure.”

Kira
stepped into the hall as Remy said, “The doctor is sure.”