Fic Content Warning: violence, graphic violence, attempted murder, murder, body horror, physical and psychological torture, guns, knives, whump, angst, fluff, smut, smut and fluff, hurt/comfort
Description: Leon Kennedy is a special agent tasked with countering bioterrorism in the U.S. So when he’s assigned to protect a high-profile witness in what should be a routine mafia case, he’s more than a little confused. Kendra Mason is desperate to survive. Entering Witness Protection should be her safety—but her new bodyguard, Leon, knows next to nothing about her case. And neither of them realizes just how dangerous it really is. The case is far from simple. Enemies lie in every direction, and not even Leon’s own organization can be trusted. Betrayal lurks around every corner. The one thing he is sure of? He must keep Kendra alive. And he can’t let her fall in the wrong hands.
Chapter Index: Each chapter marked with a relevant content warning.
Level 1 - wholesome/fluff
Level 2 - fluff/light angst
Level 3 - fluff and angst
Level 4 - fluff/heavy angst, violence, hurt/comfort
Level 5 - angst/graphic violence, significant trigger warning
Level 6 - heavy angst, whump, graphic violence, significant trigger warning, hurt/comfort
Level 7 - whump, hurt, violence, hurt/comfort
Level 8 - NSFW smut
Level 9 - extreme violence, whump, hurt/comfort, murder, death
Level 10 - extreme violence, hurt/no comfort, graphic description of injury, death, dead bodies, murder, attempted murder, heavy trigger warning, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Summary: 9,449 words // whump, hurt/no comfort, angst, heavy angst. CW: graphic violence, suicide
Content Warning: Major Tags (and Major Spoilers) — Graphic Suicide, Violence, Violence Against a Female Character, Guns, Drowning, Descriptions of Physical Assault and Battery, Attempted Murder, Psychological Torture/Abuse, Russian Roulette
Chapter 42:
Kendra
September 27, 2005 - Tuesday 14:45
For a moment, the room fell quiet. I slowly chopped the zucchini into moderate slices. The ship groaned as an especially violent wave carried us sideways.
I held my vegetables in place, cursing as two slices hit the floor.
Harper stepped closer and my gaze snapped to him immediately. He was already kneeling beside me, gathering the fallen slices, but he paused, lifting his hands in surrender.
"Didn't mean to scare you." He mumbled.
"You didn't." I lied. Mostly because the fear was an unnecessary reaction.
Still, Harper and Lopez were two people on this ship I was least familiar with. It would take a long time for me to let my guard down around them.
My fingers tightened around the knife.
Harper straightened, holding his palm flat. "Did you want these?"
"You can chuck them." I replied calmly. "They're contaminated."
He hummed, taking two steps toward the door where the trash can was. "That's right. You wouldn't want to wash them."
My brow furrowed with confusion—and my body went completely stiff when he shut the kitchen door. Slowly, he turned back to me, and I noticed for the first time just how big he was. Like another agent I had once known.
Harper tilted his head. "You're afraid of water."
My heart stopped. Restarted. Stopped again. And for one painful moment, my lungs refused to drag in air.
I feigned naivety, shoveling the slices into the awaiting pan on the stove. Taking three steps away from him, pretending I was focused on something else.
Rook and Mouse would be back any second. That's what I told myself. Avery would come back in a few minutes. Harper and I wouldn't be alone for much longer.
"Well, the ocean is pretty terrifying, but I wouldn't say sink water is particularly scary." I smiled at him, deceptively warm.
He took a step away from the door. I stepped around the island, pretending to reach for something. I grabbed something I didn't need—a salt shaker—and moved it closer to the stove.
"The ocean, hm?" He reached the opposite side of the island in one long stride. "Not a great swimmer?"
"You know, the ocean is a bigger mystery than space. There's a lot of things down there we don't know about." I paused, watching as he began to round the island. I took a step toward the stove. "I'd say it's pretty rational to be afraid of the ocean."
He watched as I retreated from him, always keeping him on the other side of the counter. His eyes tracked my hands as I moved things that didn't need to be moved. A spice bottle of cayenne pepper. I sprinkled it into the oil.
All at once, he moved toward me and my spine stiffened. But he didn't meet me at the stove. He stepped behind me, reaching for the sink.
A prickle of unease crawled up my spine and I searched for an exit. There was the pantry to the right of the sink—just behind me. A larger food storage opposite the kitchen door—to my left. Cupboards straight ahead of me. But the only door that would take me out of the kitchen was blocked by him.
"It's not the ocean you're afraid of, though, is it?"
I angled myself to keep him in my peripheral, grabbing another zucchini. It was one too many, but I needed a reason to hold onto the knife.
"It's the water itself." His voice came lower now."Doesn't have to be much of it either, right?"
"I don't know what you mean." Somehow, my own voice came impossibly steady.
He clicked his tongue. "Not that I'm shaming you. It's perfectly understandable. After all... your uncle tortured you."
I went still, keeping my eyes on the vegetable. "Didn't realize the president was aware of that. Let alone debriefing soldiers on it."
Harper laughed. "He didn't."
My hand tightened around the knife's handle and I took a slow, tentative step back.
He shoved the plug into place, flicking the faucet handle up. Water rained against the basin, loud enough to make me flinch.
He noticed, tilting his head.
"I found the files in the Captain's quarters. The record that Valentine kept on you." He grabbed a dish towel, unfolding it with careful fingers. "I don't always agree with torture as a method for obtaining information. But I can't say I've never resorted to it."
I took another step back, putting more distance between myself and the sink. "What do you want, Harper?"
"Information." He responded simply, dropping the towel into the rapidly filling basin.
I sidestepped toward the island.
He reached into his waistband so quickly that I flinched. The barrel of a revolver stared me in the eyes. The hammer clicked.
"Stop fucking moving."
I froze obediently, afraid to even breathe. Still, I didn't ask questions. If I opened my mouth, I'd prove I was willing to tell him what he wanted to know. And that was something I wasn’t sure I could do yet.
He flicked the revolver sideways. "Come back here."
My feet remained planted to the floor.
He pulled the trigger and my entire body jerked, bracing for the bullet. Nothing but an empty click met my ears
Ragged breaths escaped me, my eyes glued to the floor, too afraid to look at him.
"There's two bullets in here." His husky voice cut through the ringing silence. Swiftly, he pushed the cylinder out of place and spun it with his thumb before sliding it back into the frame. "There's a thirty-three percent chance you end up with a bullet between those pretty eyes. Now, do you want to gamble? Or do you want to do what I tell you and get the fuck back over here?"
Little by little, my gaze returned to him. He wasn't bluffing. My heart pounded in my chest, but I obeyed him, stepping back toward the sink.
"Drop the knife." He commanded me.
The blade clattered to the steel floor instantly, my hands shaking more than I would have liked them to. Where the hell is Rook? Mouse?
He pulled back on the hammer once more. "I know a lot more about you than you think. So when I ask you a question, you're not going to lie to me. Do you understand?"
I ground my teeth, but nodded.
"Good." He kept the gun trained on my face. "Your name is Kendra Mason. You were partnered with Richard Moroe in Portugal in May of this year conducting an investigation into Dr. César Verissimo. Is that correct?"
"Yes." I answered calmly.
"The first week of June, you found evidence of Verissimo's plans to attack civilians with the V-Virus."
"That's correct." I was careful to keep my breaths controlled.
"You killed Agent Moroe to obtain the evidence."
I inhaled. "No."
He pulled the trigger and I winced.
"Don't fucking lie to me." Spit flew in my face. "You killed Agent Moroe. Yes or no."
A tremble vibrated through my body. "Yes, I killed Moroe. But it wasn't to obtain the evidence."
Pain exploded as he whipped the butt of the gun against the side of my head. I stumbled, the hit so jarring that I was temporarily blind. I found myself on my knees, blinking away the dizziness. Blood coated my tongue, dribbling on the floor as I fought to close my mouth, but my jaw hung open despite my efforts.
"I asked for one word. If I wanted a full explanation, I would have asked for it. Do you understand?"
I nodded numbly, saliva and blood pooling beneath me.
"Say it."
I glared up at him with every ounce of hatred I had in me, garbling my words. "I understand."
He crouched in front of me, the revolver trained on my chest. "Why did you kill Agent Moroe?"
Lazily, I fell back onto my calves. "He tried to kill me."
Harper's eyes narrowed and his arm straightened. Cold metal pressed sharply into my forehead as he held me at point blank. "Why?"
I let out a breath. "Why?"
"Why was he trying to kill you?"
"Because I had the evidence." I spit blood from my lips. "He didn't want me to bring it back to the States."
"So instead of giving it to him, you killed him?"
"Yes."
His lips curled with distaste. "How did you kill him?"
"I pushed him. Off a roof. He fell to his death."
Harper laughed mirthlessly. "You pushed him?" He echoed the words, shaking his head. "An agent of Strategic Command. A retired army veteran. A man at least a foot taller than you. Weighing at least three times more than you do. And you expect me to believe you pushed him?"
My breaths came labored against my will. "Adrenaline is a hell of a drug."
He pressed the barrel harder into my skull. "Who helped you?"
My mind went to Avery. The only other person who had been on that roof that day. The one who had shot Moroe in the back when he was strangling me. The only reason I was still alive today.
Avery. Who was on this ship. Who Harper would find next the moment I spoke his name.
"No one." I panted.
He snarled and pulled the trigger. My entire body went rigid as the empty click vibrated through my skull. I tried to suppress the sound of terror that rose up my throat, but it stumbled from my swelling lips anyway.
"You're lying!"
I straightened, head falling back. "I'm not."
Again he pulled the trigger. I closed my eyes, trying my best to slow my racing heart.
"Someone helped you. Who was it?"
I looked to the door before looking back at him. "What's your plan, huh? You going to kill me and then kill everyone out there? Fly yourself off this ship?"
He shoved me against the cabinet roughly, pressing the revolver to my temple. "Answer my question."
"I've never seen someone with a stupider plan." I laughed at him.
He pulled the trigger again, that same empty click meeting my ears. This time, I didn't flinch.
Bringing his face close to mine, he snarled against my cheek. "The next time I pull this trigger, you're going to die, you stupid bitch."
"No. I'm not." I smiled weakly. "There aren't any bullets in that gun."
The barrel dug into my temple roughly. "You wanna make that bet?"
I met his eye. "I do. Because you're desperate for answers. You wouldn't risk killing me before getting what you came here for."
His eyes narrowed, but the gun fell away from my head. "You think you're so smart?"
"Smarter than you." The words came quiet and apathetic.
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he yanked me to my feet. I refused to cry out, but I struggled, fighting against his hold. As if I were nothing more than a ragdoll, he jostled me violently by my head and dragged me toward the sink.
Both of my hands braced against the edge of the counter as he pushed my head toward the basin. Water lapped at my nose, sending a lightning bolt of fear through my spine.
"You feel that?" He whispered next to my ear. "That fear coursing through your body? That weight on your chest, keeping you from breathing? That's your body's natural response to that memory. When you were being denied oxygen. It doesn't want it to happen again. It'll do anything. You'll fight back. Thrash. Scream. Anything to get away."
I jerked in his hold, but another hand planted firmly into my back, refusing to let me stand up.
"Come on Kendra. Fight back. Use that adrenaline. Kill me like you killed Richard."
I writhed in his hold, shoving my hands into the sink and pressing my palms into the bottom of the basin, hoping the strength in my arms would be enough to keep my head from going under.
It wasn’t.
He shoved my face into the water, just enough that my ears were still above the surface. My entire body locked with fear.
"What's happening?” He taunted me. “You can't fight me off, can you? I'm overpowering you, aren't I?"
I splashed at the water, shoveling as much of it out of the sink as I could, hoping to give myself room to breathe.
"Do you see why I don't believe you, you lying fucking bitch." He snarled in my ear. "You can't fight me off. But you expect me to believe you killed Richard by yourself?"
Finally, he yanked my head backward out of the water and I gulped in air, ragged and desperate.
"Give me a name!" He snapped at me.
"Go to hell." As defiant as the words were, I was crying. An utter betrayal of my self control.
He jerked my head sideways as roughly as he could manage, sending pain shooting down my neck. "No one can hear you down here." He hissed. "Tell me who helped you."
I wanted him to be wrong. But if someone were down here, they would have heard something by now. They would have come. They wouldn't have left me. Which meant I was on my own.
My chest heaved with every desperate breath. "You're just going to kill me anyway. So get it over with already."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You think I'll be merciful and end it quick?" His grip tightened in my hair until it felt like he had ripped out a fistful of it. "I'm going to make you suffer for as long as possible. Every second of it will be deserved."
"You think this will make things right?" I winced as he ragdolled my head again. "Moroe was a traitor and an aide to terrorists. And you can kill me, but they'll never let you off this ship alive."
Grinding his teeth in contempt, he shoved my face under the water. I thrashed against his hold to no avail. This time, he held me under until red spots filled my vision. Until my lungs threatened to take in water in hopes it was air. Just when my body was beginning to give up, he ripped my face from the basin.
Wet, choking coughs tore out of me as I regurgitated water from my airway. He forced me to look him in the eye. "Kennedy will kill me. I got on that helicopter knowing that. This was always a suicide mission. But I'm going to kill you first. And I'll die knowing the truth."
I struggled to catch my breath. "I can't think of a dumber thing to die for."
He peeled my head back from the sink—and promptly slammed my face into the edge of the counter. Vibrating pain exploded through my skull and I watched as a river of blood poured from my nose into the water.
"Does dying for one last stupid comment sound any smarter to you?" He growled in my ear.
'At least... I'll die knowing... I did the right thing." I choked on the words. "I killed a terrorist."
"You killed my brother!" He screamed before plunging my head beneath the water.
My arms flailed, sweeping all the empty pots from the counter. Even beneath the water, I heard the loud clatter of them against the steel floor. My legs kicked desperately at the shins behind me, but he remained unfazed. Determined.
He tore me out of the sink, snatching the wet rag from the water. Before I could drag in a breath, the soaked fabric was stretched over my face. I breathed in on instinct, suctioning it against my skin.
This is a nightmare. It can't be happening again.
There is no air. I fought and kicked and clawed. A scream shredded my vocal cords, muffled by the towel.
His voice came right beside my ear as he pressed my back against his chest. "Make as much noise as you want. No one's down here to hear you."
Tears streamed down my face, hot in contrast to the icy rag. I screamed anyway, trying to writhe out of his grasp.
Then—
"You forgot about me, asshole."
The sound of something colliding against Harper's skull echoed through the kitchen and he lurched forward, arms going slack.
I dropped to the ground instantly, scrambling beneath the counter for safety. Frantically, I turned to the commotion behind me.
I recognized the black buzzcut and mustache instantly.
Lex. Fucking Lex. Breathing ragged, a metal crutch in hand. His only weapon. Standing over Harper with a mixture of rage and fear.
Our eyes met. He lifted the crutch over his head. "Run, Kendra!"
Sobbing, I crawled away, reaching for something to hold onto. Something that could help me get up. But my legs trembled so violently that I couldn't keep my feet.
His radio chirped behind me. “Sentinel Two, do you copy?”
My hand closed around the knife I had dropped. I carried it with me, forcing myself up. The radio chirped again, the voice too distorted to hear. Every instinct screamed at me to run for the door. And I did.
For a moment.
A gunshot splintered the air, making me flinch. I shouldn't have turned. I should have ran.
But I didn't. My gaze searched for Lex, needing to make sure he was okay. That was my fatal flaw. It always was.
To my horror, he was crumpled to the ground, curled into ball, a pool of blood rapidly growing beneath him.
"Lex!" My voice came hoarse and my body moved before I could think. Reaching for him. To do what, I didn't know.
Harper was already on his feet, blood streaming from his temple. He held a Glock in one hand, catching himself on the counter before lunging for me.
I swung away from his grasp, slicing at his hand with the knife. He threw his weight back, narrowly avoiding the blade.
Before I could react, he snatched the pan from the stove—and threw the oil in my face.
An awful scream of pain echoed off the steel walls. The oil wasn't hot. It couldn't burn me, but the cayenne I'd added to the prep was definitely enough to blind me.
I swung the knife wildly, hoping to keep him at bay. A hand closed around my wrist, yanking me away from the door. He wrestled the knife away from me while I scrambled to grab something—anything. I caught the pot of potatoes. Seared my skin on the metal. Boiling water sloshed to the floor and Harper cursed.
There was only one thing I could do now.
I drew in a breath... and screamed at the top of my lungs.
"Leon!"
No sooner had the name left my mouth did the door slam against the bulkhead. I was blind to everything, but Leon's voice was immediate.
"Let her go!"
Harper dragged me upright, using my body as a shield. The barrel of his gun pressed against my temple and he dragged me backward. A hand closed around my ankle and I knew it was Lex.
Snarling in my ear, he roughly tried to wrestle me away from Lex's hold. But he refused to let go of me.
"Put the gun down, Harper." That voice belonged to Piers, his footsteps slow and steady as he entered the room. I could track the sound of them. Leon's footsteps had stopped near the door. Piers began to round the island, his gait heavier.
Harper pressed the gun so hard into my skull that I cried out. "If you take another step, so help me god I'll blow her fucking brains out."
The footsteps ceased immediately.
"What's your plan, huh?" Leon's voice was lethal. "Do you really think this ends well for you?"
His grip cinched tighter around my throat, forcing a helpless whimper from me. I clawed at his skin to no avail.
The sound of a gun's hammer clicking echoed through the kitchen. "Hey!" Leon's voice boomed, louder than I'd ever heard it. "If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you."
Harper's heavy breaths filled my ear. "I'm not gonna kill her yet. She still has something I need."
"What the hell are you doing?" Piers snapped. "Are you insane?"
He jerked my body roughly, keeping me in the line of fire. "What's my name, Lieutenant?"
Piers was quiet for a moment. Then, confused, he answered. "Rodney Harper."
"Why was I stationed with your unit?"
Piers exhaled, frustrated. "You had field experience with bioterrorism."
Fingernails dug into the skin of my throat. "Where?"
A pause. "Where?" He echoed.
"Where did I get that experience?"
"On...U.S. soil."
Leon cursed. "This is about Raccoon City? Kendra wasn't involved with that."
Harper shook me. "Tell them." He snapped at me. "Tell them what you know."
A terrified sob slipped out of me. "He's Moroe's brother. They were in Raccoon City together."
"That's right. Why is that important, Kendra?" His voice was like a demon in my ear.
"Because they were the only two people who survived that night." I took a stuttering breath. "They had to kill the rest of their unit."
Harper's voice changed, less angry. More distraught. "He was all I had left! We got out together."
Piers kept his voice calm. "Killing her wont bring him back, Harper."
"No!" He yelled, tearful rage in his voice. "But she killed him. She can't get away with that."
"Moroe was a terrorist." Leon spit. "A traitor."
"That's a fucking lie!" He screamed in my ear, making me flinch. "You honestly believe this fucking snake?"
His grip moved higher, tightening around my jaw. Brutal enough that I cried, afraid he might break it.
"Tell them!" He screamed at me. "Tell them about how you lied."
"I didn't lie." I sobbed, barely able to say the words as I pried at his hand.
"You did! You said you killed him. But someone helped you! Tell me who helped you!"
"No one!" Hot tears soaked my face, worsening the oily cayenne that still blinded me.
Piers scoffed to my left. "It was Avery."
Harper went still. A long silence followed the words.
"What?"
"Avery shot Richard Moroe." Piers replied calmly. "That's who helped her. So, let her go, Harper."
He laugh mirthlessly. "Call him in here."
"Let her go." Leon refused to relent.
"Shut the fuck up." Harper spit in his direction.
Piers' radio chirped. "Sentinel One, this is Sentinel Actual, do you copy?"
I struggled in Harper's arms, kicking violently. "No! Piers, please, he's gonna kill him!"
"Affirmative, sir."
"Falcon needed in the Galley. No other personnel to follow."
"Don't send him in here!" I pleaded. "It was me! I pushed him off the roof. Don't hurt him!"
Harper's hand slammed over my mouth. He fought me, refusing to let me go as he loudly shushed me.
"Copy. Falcon en route to the Galley."
I screamed against his palm, inconsolable as I writhed in the arms restraining me. On impulse, I sank my teeth into his flesh.
Hard metal slammed against the side of my head immediately.
Leon and Piers shouted in unison and Harper jostled me again. But the blow was too disorienting. I couldn't make out their words or what direction Harper was walking me in.
My ears were ringing. So deafeningly loud. By the time it cleared, I realized I was making an awful, guttural sound. Fighting for a full breath of air. Sifting through the pain in my skull.
From somewhere down the hall, Harbor began to bark. Viscous. The sort of promise in his tone that I only heard when he was protecting me.
"Lock him up." Someone—Jill, I think—ordered from outside the kitchen.
"I'm trying." Someone else protested, the sound of frantic claws scraping against the steel as Harbor struggled to break free.
At the same time, hushed whispers came from far away. Outside the hall. I desperately wished I could see, but the oil and cayenne relentlessly stuck to my eyes.
"Avery!" Harper yelled beside my ear, and I flinched again. "Show your face!"
More footsteps.
Harper's gun dug harder into the bruise blooming on my skull.
There was a long silence, Avery's boots drawing closer than anyone else was allowed. His voice eventually came. Slow and cautious. "What are you doing?"
"I'm asking the questions." Harper's breath came ragged, his heart hammering against my back. "You're gonna tell me the truth. And if you lie to me, I'll kill both of you."
"I won't lie." I could hear the surrender in his voice. "I promise."
Harper huffed. "Richard Moroe. Do you know that name?"
"Yes."
His breath caught. "Did you kill him? Did you kill my brother?"
Avery hesitated. But I knew he was going to lie. Because Harper's gun was pointed at my head. And if he told him that I was the one that killed him, Harper would kill me.
"I shot him." He finally answered.
He almost cried in my ear, jerking me farther back. "You shot him?" His voice broke. "Where?"
"In the back." His answer was immediate. "Straight through the chest."
"Straight through—" he stumbled over his words. "It was lethal?"
"Yes."
"Let Kendra go." Leon interjected.
Harper snarled, digging his nails into my cheeks so hard that I whimpered against his palm.
"Don't hurt her." Avery pleaded. "You want to avenge your brother? Fine. Kill me."
I sobbed harder, kicking at Harper again. This time, he ignored me.
"She said she killed him." Harper's voice cracked. "She pushed him off a roof. So tell me the fucking truth. Did he die by your gun? Or by her hand?"
"It was because of me.” The answer came quick. “He could have fought back, but he was bleeding out. She was only able to push him because he was weak. Because I shot him."
Finally, his hand fell away from my mouth, returning to my throat. "Tell me how it happened. Tell me all of it."
"Let Kendra go first and I'll tell you everything."
"This isn't a negotiation!" He snapped. Suddenly, metal cracked against my teeth and my jaw was forced open as he shoved his gun into my mouth.
The entire room erupted in chaos, all of the men shouting at once. All I could do was cry. Humiliating and pathetic.
Harper hushed me again, backing into the corner of the room. "Tell me why you shot my brother!"
"I was responding to a call for immediate evac. Kendra was supposed to meet me, but Richard got there first. He tried to convince me to leave without her and shot me when I refused."
"Why?" He yelled. "Why would he do that?"
"Because he was working with terrorists."
"Bullshit."
"He wanted the virus."
"Bullshit!"
I gagged on the gun, desperately trying to speak. To my surprise, the barrel tore from my mouth.
"What do you know?" He snarled the words at me.
"Moroe wasn't working for Verissimo."
His grip on my throat loosened ever so slightly.
I continued. "He wanted Verissimo to complete the virus because the infected were controllable. He wanted to use them to get revenge on the U.S. government for what they did to him. To you."
Harper's breaths came shallow. "He told you that?"
"Yes. When he was trying to convince me to give him the evidence. He wanted me to understand."
"But you didn't. You killed him."
I choked on a sob, forcing down the lump in my throat. "He was my friend. Richard was my friend." My voice broke completely.
At that, a loud commotion sounded down the hall. Someone yelled. Harbor barked. Something crashed against the ground. Then paws thundered across the steel.
It happened too fast. The dog was in the room before anyone could stop him. He beelined straight for me.
Harper cursed as a furry body slammed against my legs. The gun left my head.
I didn't need eyes to know that he was going to shoot my dog.
Snapping around, I latched onto his arm, shoving him into the wall. The gun went off, the bullet grazing my thigh.
Harbor growled, but I kicked him away, needing him to be out of the line of fire.
For a moment, Harper and I wrestled for his gun.
I lost. His palm found the center of my chest and shoved me to the ground with all of his strength. My head cracked against the steel and I braced for his final shot.
"Hands!" Leon shouted.
"Drop the gun, Harper." Piers commanded.
Harper's exhausted voice reached me through the chaos. Rough and empty.
"I appreciate your honesty." He rasped.
"No, Harper, don't!" Piers' voice boomed in panic.
The gunshot that followed was deafening. Warmth splattered my face and I screamed, kicking away. A body hit the floor, heavy and most certainly dead.
Did he shoot Avery? Leon? Did they shoot him?
I didn't know. I couldn't see. And I was too scared to think anymore.
In my panic, I must have scrambled beneath the counter. I tucked myself against the wall, fallen pots scraping as I kicked them aside.
Terror seized my lungs. Everyone was screaming. The sounds of it echoed off the walls, disorienting and chaotic.
I slammed my hands over my ears, making myself as small as possible. Hiding from whatever the hell was going on.
Then two hands landed on my shoulders.
I knew those hands. Calloused and warm and gentle. Though I was completely blind, I didn't need my eyes to know it was him. I could recognize him even in the dark.
Leon.
~ ~ ~
Leon
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 15:05
The moment Kendra wrestled for his gun, my focus narrowed. I kept my gun trained in his direction, but she still stood in the way. I couldn't take that risk. I needed to wait for an opening.
When he regained the upper hand, he did something I didn't expect. Instead of grabbing her again, he threw her out of the line of fire, the barrel of his gun finding the ground far away from her.
"Hands!" I shouted, stepping closer. If he even thought about pointing that gun at her again, I would end this here and now.
"Drop the gun!" Piers yelled from the other side of the island.
He ignored both of us, looking down at Kendra. There was something profoundly tired in his expression. No light in his eyes, like the life had left him completely.
"I appreciate your honesty." He murmured.
Then he pressed his gun to the side of his head.
"No, Harper, don't!" Piers lunged for him, desperately trying to stop the inevitable.
He was too far.
Brain matter splattered the walls—and the room erupted.
Everyone was moving at once. Running for someone.
Piers went to Harper. Jill grabbed Avery. Owen dropped down beside Lex, turning him onto his back. Rook managed to wrangle Harbor out of the room.
I went to Kendra.
She scrambled away from everything, including me, blindly kicking to safety. Trembling hands clamped over her ears, terrified sobs slipping from her lips as she curled into the wall.
There was only one priority: get her out. She couldn't see and the cacophony of voices was too loud for her to hear me. Once I grabbed her, she'd be scared. I knew that.
But I needed to get her somewhere safe.
Sliding under the counter, I grabbed her around both shoulders. Pulled her closer to me.
She didn't fight. Didn't resist.
No—her body instantly relaxed. She practically collapsed into my arms. I gathered her quickly and got to my feet, running her out of the kitchen.
All at once, her sobs ceased and she went limp. Only her hands curled in the fabric of my shirt.
"Is she alright?" Avery asked, following on my heels.
I didn't answer. Instead, I looked down at her, trying to assess what I could. She didn't seem too injured. A few cuts and bruises. Nothing catastrophic.
My gaze caught on her face. Splattered in his blood and tissue. Far too close to him when he pulled that trigger.
She didn't see. The thought was oddly comforting. Thank god she didn't see. The image of his suicide was jarring even to me. A memory I'd never be able to erase.
By some grace of god, it wasn't something she would ever have to remember.
I needed to clean the evidence off of her. She couldn't know about this. It would do nothing but haunt her.
So, I ran her to the restroom first, carefully setting her on the ground and wetting a rag. Avery watched from the doorway as I scrubbed the blood and tissue from her skin.
"Her leg is bleeding." He explained to me, concern and fear constricting his voice.
"Superficial." The word was rough and clipped.
Jill and Wraith appeared behind him, peering through the doorway.
"Kendra?" Jill called to her. "Give us the run down, anything broken?"
She didn't respond, her head dangling over my arm as I cleaned the last of Harper's suicide from her face.
It didn't escape my notice that her hair was wet. Which meant in the twenty-five minutes I'd been away, her head had ended up under water.
Anger burned my chest. I tried to stomp it out, fixating on something else. Her eyes.
Peeling her from the ground, I shoved past everyone, going back to down the hall, hurrying past the kitchen, and slipping into the infirmary. After laying her in a gurney, I turned for the cabinets, tearing through everything until I found packages of flushes.
She winced as I flooded her eyes with saline, but she made no noise at all. Not a cry. Not a whimper of pain. Not a protest.
Jill tried again. "Come on, Kendra, tell us what's going on?"
"Give me some space." I snapped at her.
"We're all worried." Wraith came to her defense.
My eyes snapped to her immediately, then shifted to Avery. "You were supposed to stay with her."
Wraith recoiled. "I had to get the records. I left Rook to watch her."
"She trusted you. I trusted you."
Her face fell. "Leon—"
"You were supposed to keep her safe. You fucking left her!"
"All that matters is that she's okay." Jill cut in.
That claim sent rage through my veins. The last bit of self control I had left went to biting my tongue. To not breaking everything within sight.
"Get the hell away from me." I spat the words, keeping my eyes on Kendra's face.
She blinked out the next syringe of saline, eyes bloodshot and irritated.
The infirmary door flew open, Owen and Mouse rushing Lex through the room. At the commotion, everyone turned, watching as they carried the medic to the closest bed.
Lex took short, shallow breaths, each one pained as he positioned himself on the mattress. "Put that pad under my knees." He ordered Mouse, pointing at the wedge pillow on the shelf.
Mouse obeyed, grabbing it and elevating Lex's legs. At the same time, Owen shoved a pillow behind the medic's head.
"Grab those scissors." He weakly pointed to the counter closest to him. "Cut off my uniform."
Mouse moved for the shears.
"The gauze is in the third cabinet." Lex panted, looking up at his Captain. "Pack the wound and hold pressure."
Owen threw the cabinet door open and tore out several rolls of gauze. As he opened the packaging, Mouse began to cut away at the uniform.
The moment Owen stuffed the edge of the gauze into the hole in his stomach, Lex screamed, cursing and throwing his head back.
Kendra moved in my peripheral, sitting up. "Where's Harper?" It was the first thing she said since I had pulled her out of there.
With perfect timing, Piers and Lopez stormed into the room.
"Harper's dead." The words came without emotion.
"There's too much blood in that kitchen." Lopez interjected, looking to Owen. "Your medic needs blood."
As if to prove his point, a river of it began to dribble off the med bed, pooling below Lex like a timer counting down.
"Your medic needs a medic." Piers sighed, shaking his head. His hand found the radio on his chest and it chirped to life. "Guardian, this is Sentinel Actual. Be advised, one hostile KIA. One friendly GSW. Request Fleet Surgical Team aboard immediately."
Lopez looked toward the door. "You think they'll get here in time?"
"They're not far." Piers responded, his tone hollow.
"Who'd you call?" Jill asked.
"The USS Resolute. The navy ship delivering our fuel." Lopez explained.
"Sentinel Actual, Guardian copies. Fleet Surgical Team and security element deploying by helo now. ETA three mikes." The radio chirped.
Piers shook his head, looking around the room. "I need a body bag."
"They're in the—the last cabinet... on that wall." Lex fought to get the words out, nodding to the far corner. He was fading.
Kendra didn't move or speak. She only watched everyone move around. Listened to the room around her. Blinked rapidly, her eyes still inflamed.
Lex looked back at us. "Leon. Get the stethoscope." He pointed to the instrument laid by the sink. "He was—he was drowning her. Check her... lungs."
I obeyed, grabbing the stethoscope and fitting the ends into my ears. She hardly reacted when I lifted the bottom of her shirt, slipping the drum under the fabric and pressing it her back.
I wasn't entirely sure what I was listening for.
As if he could read my mind, Lex panted his next words. "Crackling is bad. Is she... fuck..." he squeezed his eyes shut, head falling back. "Is she clear?"
Moving the drum to both sides, I listened for anything that might sound wrong.
"She's clear." I confirmed, dropping the drum and yanking the instrument from my ears.
Lex exhaled sharply, his face going concerningly pale. "Good. That's good."
"I can't stop the bleeding." Owen relayed.
He nodded, the action so weak that I almost didn't notice. "I'm sorry. I'm gonna pass out."
Owen cursed, blood soaking him finger to elbow. "Stay with me, Lex."
"Everything's gonna be... alright." He breathed the words. Then his body went limp.
Kendra watched him. Silent. Empty.
I didn't know what else to do.
~ ~ ~
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 21:30
Hours had passed. The navy's surgical team had saved Lex's life. He was still in the infirmary, hooked up to antibiotics, blood, and fluids. The team was still on board, refusing to leave until he was stable.
Piers had bagged up Harper's body alone. Even when Lopez tried to help, he snapped at him. Told him he could handle it himself. Since then, he hadn't talked much. Only when he needed to.
Now, we were sat in the mess hall. Kendra tucked herself in the corner of the couch, practically hiding behind me on the cushion. Her fingers nervously braided three locks of curls, again and again. For hours. Until the hair itself seemed worn out—the curls becoming dry frizz. She didn't speak and she didn't leave the couch unless I did. Following so close to me that she'd step on the backs of my boots.
In an effort to get her to relax, I decided I wouldn't move from the couch for a while. It didn't work as well as I had hoped. Every time someone entered the room, she'd go still. Track them the entire time they moved through the mess hall. It didn't matter who it was. Avery. Owen. Jill. Piers. She watched all of them very carefully. Refusing to blink until they settled or left.
As the hours passed, her body healed quickly. Quicker than before. The black eyes and swelling over her nose had vanished, same as the wound on her leg where the bullet had grazed her. Not even a scar remained, like nothing had happened at all.
Harbor stayed close, refusing to leave her side. For the first time, Kendra didn't acknowledge him. She didn't pet him or coo his name or look in his direction. I couldn't be sure she even realized he was there.
Eventually, Piers had wandered in. He sat in a chair by the poker table across the room. His eyes remained glued to the floor, hands steepled in thought. For a long time, he stayed like that.
I'd never been good with words. They didn't come to me magically now. Kendra was terrified in a way I'd never seen before, and I had no idea how to comfort her. It wasn't hard to guess what bothered Piers. If he was anything like me, he was ridden with guilt. It was him who had cleared Harper for the mission. The one who brought him onboard. And despite Harper being a traitor, he still watched one of his men kill themselves right in front of him.
What the hell does anyone say to any of that?
I raked a hand through my hair, exhaling as I turned to look at Kendra.
"Are you hungry?"
Her eyes remained on the door, but she shook her head. It was a lie. She hadn't eaten since yesterday. Harper had made sure of that. She didn't get to finish making lunch earlier.
"Are you sure? I can make you something."
Another silent shake of her head.
"You don't have to go in the kitchen." I reminded her, my tone gentle.
"I cleaned everything up." Piers spoke up, finally looking in our direction. "It's safe to go in there."
She was unconvinced, curling further into the cushion. But her stomach growled, betraying her.
I gently set my hand on her knee. She hooked her index finger around my thumb without hesitation.
“I’m gonna go make something quick. Do you want a sandwich?” I got to my feet, drifting toward the door.
Her spine snapped straight quickly, feet falling to the floor. I paused, but she was already standing, hurrying to catch up with me.
“You’re coming?” I cocked my head.
She wrung her hands together, looking to Piers before looking back at me. Without a word, she hooked her finger through my belt loop.
The action sent a shot of heartache straight through my chest. It left me feeling completely helpless.
Just as I had been six hours ago when Harper had taken her hostage. When he had used her body as a shield. Hidden behind her so I couldn’t take that shot.
Just the memory of his gun pressed to her head—shoved into her mouth—made my fingers go numb.
I folded her under my arm immediately, banishing those thoughts. Her pulse thudded in her throat, each beat announcing itself against my forearm. That told me she was scared. But it also reminded me she was alive.
Guiding her out of the mess hall, we made for the bow of the ship. When we reached the kitchen, we both stopped—and for the smallest second, I almost considered going back.
As I stared into the kitchen, I came to the humiliating realization that… I didn’t want to go in either. There was only one exit. Nowhere to hide. It was too open and too claustrophobic all at the same time.
My eyes flickered around the room, spotting everything I needed. Pursing my lips, I turned to her and gave her a reassuring smile.
“We’re gonna see how good you are at catching.”
Her brow twitched in questioning, but I was already forcing myself through the doorway. Just as I expected, she didn’t follow me. Her feet stayed firmly planted in the hall.
I grabbed a loaf of bread and tossed it to her. Her eyes widened but she jumped forward, catching it before it could hit the ground.
Grinning, I opened the fridge and snatched the cheese, meat, and condiments. Each one soared through the air and she gasped each time she had to run to catch something.
Finally, I snatched a butter knife and left the kitchen. Her feet quickly scuffled after me as I went back toward the mess hall—her arms full of ingredients.
When we entered the room, Piers looked in our direction. He raised a brow as Kendra juggled the mayonnaise. She almost had it, but it tipped over her elbow anyway. I caught the jar swiftly, carrying it to the bar counter where Kendra dumped everything in her arms.
As I removed four slices of bread from the loaf, Kendra reached for the deli meat, flipping it over in her hand. Her eyes met mine and she held it up, lifting a brow.
A soft laugh escaped me. “I know you don’t like ham, but there wasn’t any turkey. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
She huffed, setting it back down gently. Like she might bruise it if she threw it.
I got to work spreading the mayo and mustard on alternating slices. She didn’t wait for me to do the rest. Instead, she opened the ham and strategically folded three slices on her sandwich, five on mine. Next, she placed a slice of cheese for both of us, flicking through the package until she found ones that hadn’t broken in half or crumbled. I pressed the last piece of bread on top and we each grabbed our sandwich.
She practically inhaled it, devouring the thing in a little over a minute. Barely stopping to chew. I mirrored her, finishing mine a few seconds faster.
“I taught you how to do that.” I teased, brushing the crumbs from my hands.
Her shoulders dropped and for the first time in hours, the corner of her lips lifted in the faintest smile.
And I realized that, for a minute, she hadn’t been watching the door.
~ ~ ~
Kendra
September 28, 2005 — Wednesday 01:15
The ship was quieter than it had been all day. The walls creaked with every gentle sway in the waves. Soft snores echoed outside the room.
Everyone was asleep. Everyone except me.
Even Leon was dead to the world beside me, his chest rising in a slow, steady rhythm. He stayed on the edge of the bunk, always between me and the rest of the world.
The steel wall behind me was cold on my skin. I could have laid back down. Leon would certainly be much warmer.
I couldn’t relax. Every nerve buzzed beneath my skin. My heart never seemed to stop racing. Even my breaths came short, hungry for air.
My mind wouldn’t shut off. To my surprise, I didn’t think about Harper. I didn’t think about what had happened to me at all.
Instead, I was thinking about damn near everything else. Piers and Avery were staying one more night. Cleaning up the mess that Harper had left behind.
The USS Resolute had delivered the fuel supply. They saved Lex’s life. And then they left.
I had no idea if they’d taken Harper’s body, or if Piers had taken him to the hangar and loaded him into the helicopter. Had no idea if that was even an option. I didn’t ask.
Maybe I should have. Engaged just a little bit. I could tell the crew and Avery were concerned. Any other time, I would have made the effort. Would have reassured them.
I didn’t have the energy to pretend today. I didn’t want to perform. Didn’t want to joke or explain or comfort or talk.
If I was being honest, I didn’t want to do anything.
No. That was wrong. I did want to do something.
I wanted to hide.
Everyone knew where I was at all times. It should have been comforting. It wasn’t anymore. This room wouldn’t keep me safe. These people couldn’t promise me that I’d be unharmed. There was nowhere to go on this ship that they couldn’t find me.
It was an unachievable desire. So I pushed it out of my mind.
And I was still restless.
Lex was alone in the infirmary. Away from the rest of us. Recovering with the help of his drips and medicine. Any other time, I wouldn’t have cared. He was the last person I concerned myself with.
Tonight was different. Guilt settled in my stomach. He was alone. Probably scared because he had almost died.
Because of me. Because he heard me screaming and ran to me. Without a weapon. Without a plan. He ran. Even when it got him a bullet to the stomach. He still tried to save me.
Before I really knew what I was doing, I crawled over Leon’s legs and slipped off the bunk.
He stirred, grumbling as he turned to look at me. “Bathroom?” His husky voice broke the quiet.
I nodded, patting his shoulder gently.
“Want me to come with?” A heavy blink told me he was one second away from falling back asleep.
I shook my head, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over his shoulder, silently telling him to stay in bed.
He took the hint, settling his cheek back against the pillow. “Take Harbor with you.” He mumbled, then he was snoring again.
The dog was already up, stretching and yawning in the dark. It was clear I wouldn’t have been able to keep Harbor off my heels if I tried. I patted my thigh, beckoning him to follow, and quietly opened the door before slipping into the hall.
We first passed through the main living quarters. Piers was asleep on the floor, below Avery’s and Lopez’s hammocks. My eyes found the bunks on the other side. Harvey slept below Mouse. Bishop slept below Rook.
I drew closer, peering down at Bishop through his cocoon of blankets. He’d slept most of the day today and I had only seen him for a few moments before I went to bed. That quick glimpse at least told me he was alright.
Still, I studied his face in the dim lighting. He twitched and muttered something between his snores. I couldn’t tell if he was paler than usual, but his complexion seemed to stand out in the dark.
I leaned away, quietly making my way to the hall. Harbor’s nails clicked against the steel floor, echoing off the walls as we abandoned the stern and made the trek toward the front of the ship.
My shoulders tensed as we passed the kitchen. I wanted to keep my eyes forward, but I glanced in anyway. Afraid someone might be waiting in the shadows.
Harbor didn’t react as we passed, which put me slightly at ease.
It only took me four more steps to reach the infirmary door. Letting out a breath, I carefully pushed it open, wincing as it creaked.
One lone light was on in the farthest corner of the room, bathing the infirmary in a dull yellow. It flickered a few times, like it might go out, then settled.
My eyes fell on the med bed closest to the sink. The IV pump blinked green in the dark.
After everything, I expected him to be sleeping. Exhausted from the entire ordeal. Instead, his head turned in my direction.
His brows cinched at the sight of me and he tried to sit up, but flinched and gave up.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice strained.
I nodded, taking a single step into the room.
He was quiet, watching me for a second. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Shrugging, I averted my gaze. Looking at the instruments around the room instead.
A deep hum carried across the room. The bedsheets rustled and I looked back at him.
“My mouth is dry.” He grumbled, looking to the counter. “Could you hand me that sponge?”
I followed where he pointed, finding a dixi cup of water with what looked like a lollipop sticking out. Curious, I crossed the room and picked it up.
Just as he’d said, it wasn’t candy. It was a sponge—small and fixed to the end of a stick. Silently, I handed the cup to him and watched as he pulled the sponge from the water, tapped the stick against the rim, and stuck it in his mouth.
I tilted my head, suddenly fascinated by what he was doing.
He snorted, swirling it around his mouth. He spit it out and dropped it back into the cup. “I can’t eat or drink anything for the next twenty-four hours. But I refuse to be miserable.” He handed the cup back to me.
I felt my lips twitch with amusement. The dixi cup clicked against the counter and I crossed my arms. A protective gesture more than a defensive one.
I wanted to ask him if he was okay. Wanted to thank him for what he did. Wanted to say something.
Instead, even when I opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out. Letting out a frustrated breath, I threw another useless look around the room.
Lex pulled the blanket over his shoulder and eyed my bare shoulders. “Aren’t you cold? I’m freezing my ass off in here.”
Truthfully, I hadn’t noticed how cold it was. I’d been too distracted by everything else. Now that he said it; the air was icy.
Frowning, I turned for the cupboard where I knew the blankets were and grabbed one from the top of the stack.
He protested as I laid it over him, insisting he could do it himself, but I ignored him. After throwing the top of it over his head, I stepped away.
He threw it off his face, giving me a look. “You’d make a terrible medic.”
I chewed on my smile, leaning against the counter. Still, I didn’t say anything.
A few seconds of silence stretched between us and he sighed.
“So, what, you just came to check on me?”
My shoulders lifted but I gave him a begrudging nod.
A breath of amusement slipped out of him. “I’m okay. You can go back to bed.”
I pursed my lips, eyes finding the floor. Awkwardly, I pushed away from the counter and headed for the door, stopping just before the threshold.
Slowly, I turned back around—and gave a short, timid wave.
He softened, adjusting his blanket. “Goodnight.”
With that, I slipped out of the room and gently shut the door behind me.
For a while, I stood in the center of the hallway. My hand hovered over the handle.
It would have been easy. Go back to my room. Open the door. Crawl back into the bunk. Let Leon pull the blanket over me and pretend I had never left.
But my feet wouldn’t move.
The overwhelming urge to hide returned at double the intensity. I let myself entertain the idea for a few seconds. Running through my options.
The hangar might have Harper’s body. The mess hall was too obvious. The kitchen wasn’t an option. The showers and bathroom were too high traffic. The upper deck was too open. The infirmary was occupied.
Without meaning to, I looked at the doors across from the kitchen. There were three of them: the laundry room (which was always in use), the storage room (which constantly had people in and out), and the supply closet.
Curious, I opened the closet, inventorying everything inside. A mop, a bucket, a broom, and various bottles of cleaner. It was small. Very small.
I stepped inside, looking up at the lone bulb dangling above me. Reaching up, I clicked the chain, squinting as I bathed myself in bright yellow light. I quickly clicked it off again.
Harbor whined softly behind me.
I turned, realizing there wasn’t enough room for him to step into the closet with me. My fingers found the soft fur between his ears. He had never once hesitated to follow me into danger. I hated that I was asking him to wait outside now.
Regretfully, I grabbed the door handle and slowly shut myself inside the closet.
It didn’t make sense what I was doing. But, as soon as the door was closed, I finally felt hidden. In a place no one would expect me to be.
I lowered myself to the ground beside the mop bucket, tucking my knees to my chest.
Outside the door, Harbor whined again and the door shook as he plopped against it.
No one would think to look for me here. This was safer than the room. Safer than anywhere else. At least, for tonight.
I pressed my hands over my ears, closing my eyes. The ship rocked back and forth, a gentle lullaby of its own.
The bedroom would have been warm. Comfortable, even. But the closet felt safe.
I miss when dark romance was a genre about the love interest doing bad things FOR their lover and not doing bad things TO their lover. Treating dark romance like the more trigger warnings you have is some sort of badge of honor is insane. We have lost the fucking plot
Summary: 7,936 words // angst, impending doom. Content Warning: SA mention
Author's Note: Content Warning: Sexual Assault Mention
This chapter contains a brief conversation in which sexual assault is mentioned by implication. No sexual assault occurs in this chapter, and the discussion is neither explicit nor graphic. If references to sexual assault, even indirect ones, may be distressing for you, please read with discretion.
>Chapter 42
Chapter 41:
Leon
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 00:15
Rook's legs thumped against the bunk mattress as I practically threw him into bed. He could barely stay awake long enough to pull his blanket over his shoulder. It had been the same with Bishop, Avery, Mouse, and Harvey. All of them could be woken up, but none of them could stay awake for very long. It had taken me the better half of an hour just to get them from the mess hall to the main living quarters.
With the last one finally in bed, I returned to the mess hall to investigate what I could. Kendra and I had only been gone for a little over an hour. For the entire crew to be practically tranquilized in that time?
Something was wrong.
The room itself was unassuming. Unwashed plates had been left on the coffee table and bar. Darts stuck out from the dartboard, each one a horrible miss from the bullseye. Solo cups were left sporadically throughout the room.
I went to the tower of alcohol first. Everything was sealed save for one bottle of whiskey. The one Bishop and Avery had shared. There wasn't nearly enough of it missing to have been shared by all twelve of them. It wasn't the alcohol that had been tampered with.
Same with the cheesecake. Only eight of us had a slice. And Kendra and I were unaffected.
That only left—
I looked to the nearly empty punch bowl. Then to the solo cups surrounding me. Some had fallen to the floor. I counted each one of them three times just to be sure.
Eleven.
That left two possibilities. The first one was the simplest: someone had spiked the punch bowl. The only thing Kendra and I hadn't ingested.
The other possibility? There was something else on the ship. A gas? A virus? Something that had affected the crew while Kendra and I were above deck. Or when we were in the hangar. Closed off from everyone else.
Twelve people were sleeping. Eleven cups had been used. So which one of them hadn't had a drink? Were they as impaired as everyone else?
I went back to the main living quarters and paused in the room. Counted every body. Every bunk, hammock, and sleeping bag had a head. No one was missing.
Clenching my jaw, I hurried back to the officer's quarters, pushing the door open. Kendra was still awake, sitting at the desk, Harbor lying on top of her feet. She looked back at me over her shoulder, stress written plainly across her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked, moving further into the room and casting a look into every corner. Like someone might be hiding somewhere.
She held up an envelope briefly before throwing it back down on the desk. I peered over her shoulder to see what it was.
The letter from President Graham.
Exhaling, she crossed her arms, like she was protecting herself. "I found this behind the desk."
I waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "Okay?"
Frustrated, she ran a hand through her curls. "I left it on the desk. Someone moved it."
"Are you sure it didn't just fall?" I looked to the porthole, as if I might actually see the waves that rocked the ship in the middle of the night.
"I considered that." Her gaze went to the desk. I followed it only to find the paper cranes Mouse had made for her. She looked back up at me. "Nothing else moved."
"You think someone read it?" I studied the cranes, which she had lined up like perfect little soldiers across the desk's edge.
She shrugged. "Where's your letter?"
I reached into my back pocket, producing it for her. Her shoulders fell and she slumped back against the chair.
"I don't know why anyone would read it." She snatched it from the desk and got to her feet. "It doesn't say anything that they don't already know."
"Do they know Graham asked you to go back to the states?"
"Piers does." Reaching for a drawer, she yanked it open and threw the letter inside. "I'm sure his entire squad knows what's in that letter. I mean, Graham was the one who sent them, right?"
"So, you think a crew member read it?" I tilted my head.
Her gaze fell on the spaniel, who was looking at her as if she had offended him by standing up. "Lex was in here." She explained. "After Harbor jumped on the table, he said he was gonna put him in my room."
My thoughts immediately went back to my conversation with him earlier in the day. When he'd guessed what her letter had said. When I insisted that she couldn't go back. That she needed to stay with him and the crew. Would that spur him to read the letter himself? Did he need to?
Kendra shifted, her gaze going to the door. "What do you think is going on?"
Sighing, I turned and closed the door, sliding the lock into place. "I don't know."
"Is everyone okay?" I heard her step closer to me. A featherlight hand brushed my arm as she reached for me.
I faced her again, gently grabbing her by the shoulders. "They're fine. They're just sleeping." My eyes swept over her, noting the dress she still wore. "You should change. Get some sleep."
"They're not just sleeping." She argued. "Something's wrong. Right?"
Heaving a frustrated sigh, I raked a hand through my hair. "Maybe. I don't know. They seem fine. Safe. It is... weird, though."
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wrapping her arms around herself. "I feel sick."
"You should lay down." I suggested.
Her bottom lip began to tremble and she looked away from me. "No. Something's wrong. We should sit with them. Make sure they're okay."
"No." I said immediately, brushing stray curls from her face. "The safest place for you is in here. If something is going on, you shouldn't be out there."
"What about them?" She shifted on her feet, restless and upset. "What about Avery and Piers and Bishop?"
"They can handle themselves. That's what they're trained to do."
She shook her head. "You think they'll wake up?"
I hesitated.
She let out a breath, trying to step past me and reaching for the door. I stopped her, gently pushing her toward the center of the room.
She could have shoved past me. After what happened in the hangar, we both knew she was capable of putting up a fight. But she never put her hands on me in a serious situation. Like roughness was a lighthearted reservation.
I kept my voice calm. Soothing her as best as I could. "Kendra, please. I'm asking you to stay in here tonight. Rule three. Remember?"
With a disbelieving breath, she threw up a flippant hand. "Really? You're gonna call the rules?"
"You know I don't use them frivolously." I gave her a pointed look. "Only when it matters."
For a moment, she stared back at me stubbornly. When I didn't relent, she softened and looked away. "Can we at least check on them? Before we go to sleep?"
I let out a breath. "Fine. We'll check on them."
Again, she moved for the door. I stopped her, pulling her toward the wardrobe first. She shot me a confused look as I opened the doors and quickly began to rifle through the contents of my bag. I pulled a handgun from its depths. The smallest one I had with the lightest kick. Swiftly snapping a magazine into place, I racked the slide and clicked the safety on before handing it to her.
She almost laughed, turning the gun over in her hand—careful to keep the barrel pointed away from me. "Wow, you're serious."
"I trust you know how to use that." I got to my feet, grabbing my own gun from my waistband and checking that the magazine was fully loaded.
The deadpan look she gave me told me all I needed to know. "I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response."
I laughed lightly, jerking back the slide to chamber a round. "Forgive me, I'm not familiar with your weaponry training."
"Well, if we're lucky, you never will be." She shrugged, pointing the gun at the ground, her trigger finger laid flat. Her discipline soothed me just the slightest bit.
Taking the lead, I unlocked the door and jerked it open. Kendra followed behind me as we hurried down the short hall.
Everything was just as quiet as I had left it. I counted the heads in the main living quarters, ensuring every bed was still occupied. Only then did I step out of the way, allowing Kendra to move into the room.
I watched as she crossed to the hall first, closing the hatch that led to the rest of the lower deck. That door usually remained open at all times. But I wasn't going to argue with her. If something or someone was on the ship, it was better to keep them locked out.
She moved to the staircase next, taking the stairs to the upper deck and closing that hatch as well—sealing all of us in the stern. When she came back down, she swept the bathroom and the shower room as well.
I stayed put, letting her do whatever she needed to do.
Finally, she returned to the center of the room, looking around at each sleeping form. The first person she went to was Avery. I'd managed to wrestle him into the hammock. She reached past the hammock flaps, pressing two fingers to his neck. After a few seconds, she retracted her hand.
"His heart is racing."
"Maybe he's having a bad dream?" It was a weak suggestion. But there was nothing we could do about it. So lukewarm reassurance was all I could offer.
She huffed, her gaze washing over him. Her eyes stopped at his feet. There was a momentary pause before she turned to look at the others. Then she turned on me.
"You didn't take their shoes off?" She sounded disappointed with me.
Still, a small smile found my face. "They're grown men. They'll be okay."
She rolled her eyes, swiveling around and immediately yanking off Avery's boots. After placing his boots on the floor beneath him, she moved to the bunks, finding Bishop first.
"Are you serious?" I suppressed a laugh.
"Dead." She said flatly, untying Bishop's laces and pulling hard to free him of the boots.
He stirred, mumbling something and weakly kicking his feet. The action actually helped her and she stumbled backward, boot in hand.
I caught her before she could fall. She gave me a sheepish smile and dropped the shoe. "Help me with everyone else."
I gave her a look. "You're joking."
"Do I sound like I'm joking?"
Tucking my gun into my waistband, I crossed my arms defiantly. "Hard to tell sometimes, honestly."
She grabbed Bishop's blanket and draped it over his feet. "Come on, Leon, the faster we do this, the faster we can go back to the room."
"Ugh." I rolled my eyes, but I stepped toward the bunks anyway. "Fine."
We made quick work of making everyone comfortable. The only ones who were already comfortable were Piers, his squad, and Lex. The only ones who had seemed to retire before losing the battle with sleep in the mess hall.
As the last boot hit the floor, one of the men in the sleeping bags shifted. We both looked over to see Harper turning over, blinking at us tiredly. He wore a grumpy expression, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"You're being so loud." He grumbled before his eyes drifted shut again.
Kendra snickered and took light steps toward the officer's quarters. "Sorry." She whispered.
He groaned into the pillow. "Go stomp around in your own room."
She bit back a smile, grabbing me by the wrist and tugging me toward the room. I followed without argument.
We stopped at the end of the hall and she looked to the door to our right.
"Do you think Jill's okay?"
"I think we'd get our asses kicked if we even thought about going in there." I snorted.
The corner of her lips twitched. Carefully, she leaned closer and pressed her ear to the door. "I don't think Wraith is in there." She muttered under her breath.
"Yeah, well, her and Owen were flirting all night. I imagine they're mighty comfy in the Captain's bed."
A soft blush tinted her cheeks and she turned away from me, pushing her own door open.
The moment we were back in the room, I was already shutting and locking the door. She handed my gun back to me and I placed both of them on the desk. Easy to reach should we need them.
Harbor lifted his head from beneath the desk, his body tucked safely under the chair legs.
Kendra greeted him before kicking off her shoes. "They should be safe." She said, mostly to herself. "I closed all the hatches. And, I mean, they can wake up. So that's good."
I slipped out of my own boots, nudging them toward the wardrobe. "I'm a light sleeper. If anything happens, I'll hear it." It was the only reassurance I could think of.
She smiled at me over her shoulder, giving me her back. "Can you unzip this?"
My eyes flickered to the zipper on her dress. I shouldn't have felt flustered. Not after I'd bent her over in the hangar. Logic would dictate that after doing that to her, unzipping a dress shouldn't leave me feeling shy.
I cleared my throat, stepping closer and carefully tugging it down. The dress loosened around her torso and she slipped her arms from the sleeves.
Then she turned around, wearing nothing but a lace bra. There was a split second where I caught myself staring before I turned on my heel and squeezed my eyes shut.
Her laughter echoed behind me. "What are you doing?"
I lightly tapped the side of my fist against the bulkhead. "Just..." words failed me. For once, my mind was completely empty. No retort or snarky comeback.
"Thinking." I finally said.
The sound of her dress hitting the ground made me shake my head. Clearing the abrupt memories that were playing against my will.
How impossibly soft her skin was. The way she relaxed beneath me.
Those fucking sounds she made.
Fuck.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, my index tapping a restless rhythm against the steel. My forehead met the wall as I drew in a long, slow breath.
She giggled, clearly amused by my panic. "Didn't seem to have any problem looking at me earlier."
I thumped my head against the wall. "Shut up."
Light footsteps drew closer. Little by little. Stopping just behind me. Knowing she was close sent a chill up my spine. When her delicate fingertips brushed my shoulder blade, my breath hitched.
"I can turn off the light?" She offered.
My jaw tightened and I nodded.
The switch clicked, plunging the room into darkness. Only then did I risk opening my eyes. But I didn't move from the wall.
She hummed, stepping around me, her fingers sliding across my ribcage. I stayed completely still, even as she slowly slid between me and the wall. Her breath ghosted my skin, warming my throat.
Exhaling, I worked hard to keep both of my hands on the wall. "It's cold. You should wear something warm."
"I'm working on it." She murmured. A tentative kiss found my throat.
With a sharp breath, I tipped my face down on instinct, her cheek grazing mine. She seized the opportunity, pressing another kiss to the corner of my lips as she snaked her arms around my neck.
That was all it took to break me. I wrapped her in my arms without a second thought. Just as I suspected, her skin was ice cold. My hands moved on instinct, rubbing warmth into her. Sweeping over every inch of her back. It gave me something else to focus on. Something other than the fact that she was wearing next to nothing.
"Where're your clothes?" I whispered.
"Somewhere."
I sighed, pulling away just enough that I could get my shirt off. Feeling for the top of her head in the dark, I tugged the shirt onto her instead. She laughed, blowing hair from her face.
"Arms." I instructed, a smile finding my lips.
"I'm not sleeping in this bra." She argued.
"Hm." I dropped the shirt around her shoulders and reached behind her, unclasping the bra strap with one hand.
She shifted, pulling it off and discarding it carelessly.
I grabbed the shirt once more. "Arms." I said again, slightly more firm.
Lifting her arms obediently, she wriggled into the sleeves. I pulled it down her torso, straightening the fabric. Even in the dark, I knew it swallowed her because my fingers brushed her thighs as I pulled at the hem.
"Ready for bed?" I asked, moving my hands somewhere safer. Her upper arms, which were still cold to the touch.
"Um, not quite." She said softly. Shy. Her tone piqued my curiosity.
"Why not?"
"I need to—" she paused, laughing awkwardly. "...Clean up."
She drifted out of my arms, leaving me standing there confused. The wardrobe creaked open and in the extremely dim moonlight, I could see her reach for the top shelf—where the towels were kept.
"You're taking a shower? Right now?"
"No." She turned back toward me, going to the door. "Due to someone—I'm not gonna name names—I, a woman, have a mess to clean up."
Despite her attempt to omit vulgarity, the words left me mortified. And perhaps a bit speechless.
"Right. Right. Okay." I nodded.
She tugged the door open.
"You're going out there dressed like that?" I rose a brow.
"Everyone's asleep." She argued.
"At least wrap yourself in the towel."
The bulb in the hall bathed her side profile in yellow light. She smirked, tilting her head. "Something could snatch me in the bathroom and you're worried someone might see my ass?"
"You're not funny." I grabbed the door, opening it wider to follow her out.
She crinkled her nose, shooting me a teasing look before beelining for the bathroom.
The time spent in there was brief. The toilet flushed. The sink turned on and off. On and back off. A few more times than I expected. Followed by the sound of her toothbrush scrubbing at her teeth. She rustled around on the other side of the door a minute longer, then emerged.
I took the opportunity to brush my teeth as well, blocking her from stepping into the main living quarters. When we were both ready, we left the bathroom.
I remained on her left, slightly behind her, blocking her from view. No one seemed to be awake, but that didn't soothe me. We went back to the room, where she dropped the towel in the laundry bin.
For the third time tonight, I locked the bedroom door, hoping it would be the last time I'd need to.
The moment the bunk creaked, I relaxed a little bit. She was finally getting into bed.
I took my chance to get out of my cargo pants, slipping into a pair of sweats instead. I didn't put my weapons away as I usually would. Tonight, I draped a holster over the ladder rung to the top bunk. The Desert Eagle was probably overkill. But I trusted it. One shot was all I would need if anything happened.
Kendra made room for me on the bottom bunk, pressing herself against the wall. I slid onto the mattress beside her, folding both of us beneath the blanket. She waited for me to get comfortable before drifting back to me, tucking herself into my chest. She fit surprisingly well against my torso.
Only after we'd been settled for a minute or two, the silence stretching amid the sound of the ocean, did I finally let out an awkward breath.
"Sorry. About... the mess."
She snorted, clearly amused. "Took full advantage of the birth control, hm?"
My face burned with embarrassment. "Sorry." I mumbled again.
She laughed lighter this time, grabbing my hand and pulling it to her lips where she brushed a soft kiss to my knuckles. "I'm just teasing you. It's okay. You don't have to apologize."
I laced our fingers together, pressing my mouth to the crown of her head. Another silence settled between us.
"Pretty convenient for us, I guess." I muttered.
She hummed. "Guess it's good I didn't get it taken out."
That caught my interest.
"Why would you?"
"Well, it was a requirement."
"...the birth control?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
She shifted. "All women at my agency are required to get the IUD before we're dispatched on a mission."
"Why the hell is that a requirement?"
Her thumb brushed over mine and she lowered her voice, keeping it soft. "We just don't want any... accidents. In our line of work, we deal with a lot of corrupt men. And if you get caught—" she paused, mulling over her words carefully. "There's a lot of ways men can think of to hurt women."
My stomach dropped. What she was implying—it was something I had spent a lot of time trying not to worry about. Admittedly, after she'd been taken by Verissimo and I had to drive through three states to reach her, I had a lot of time to worry about what they could possibly be doing to her. And that was definitely something that had tortured me the entire drive.
To hear that she'd actually taken precautions to prevent any unwanted pregnancies from that type of thing? It made my chest hurt.
As if she could sense my discomfort, she snuggled closer. "I never needed it, at least. I mean, not until now."
It was probably the most merciful thing she could have said. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, slipping my hand beneath her shirt just to gently scratch her bare back.
"Get some sleep." I mumbled into her hair.
She nuzzled her face into my neck, and that was the end of it. Eventually, her breathing slowed, followed by that nearly silent snore I had become so familiar with.
For me, at least, sleep was harder to come by.
~ ~ ~
Kendra
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 06:30
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
The sound of a fist beating the steel door tore me out of sleep. By the time I had untangled myself from the sheets, Leon was already on his feet.
Jill's voice carried through the walls, sharp and demanding.
"Open the door!"
Leon jerked the door open, pulling a shirt over his head at the same time.
Jill surged into the room, out of uniform for the first time. "Is she in here?" She shoved past him, looking around until her gaze landed on me. She let out a breath, visibly relaxing.
"What the hell is going on?" Leon looked on edge, a gun already in hand.
She looked between us, ignoring the elephant in the room. I shifted under the blanket, keeping my bare legs hidden.
"The crew was drugged." She said, her voice higher than usual. "I just needed to—" she stopped, taking a breath and fixing her gaze on me. "You're alright?"
"Fine." I nodded, sitting up straighter. "Leon and I already figured out something happened. We came back to the room and everyone was knocked out."
"That's why we locked down the hatches." Leon added. "And I kept her door locked. Just in case."
Jill nodded. "Good. You did good." She ran a hand through her hair. "We have to do an emergency investigation. Right now."
"I agree." Leon moved toward the wardrobe, grabbing my bag and throwing it to me.
I caught it, grateful for his attentiveness, and pulled out a pair of sweats.
Jill moved for the door. "As of right now, you're the only one cleared to be alone with her. No one else." She held Leon's gaze.
"Understood."
"No one?" I asked, trying to dress beneath the blanket.
"No one." She said sternly. "Not Avery. Not the crew."
"Where do you want her to be?" Leon interjected.
"Stay in here. Keep the door locked. I'm gonna have Lex run some blood tests. Hopefully whatever we were dosed with will show up. If someone's clean, it's safe to assume they're the one who drugged the rest of us."
"Leon and I are clean." I gave the information willingly.
She laughed, like I was ridiculous. "Whoever knocked us out wanted to get to you. They couldn't because Leon was still lucid. That's probably the only reason you're still alive."
"It was the punch." Leon added. "It was the only thing we didn't drink."
She nodded. "We'll test what's left. Just to confirm."
Finally getting the sweats over my waist, I crawled out of the bunk. "Is everyone okay? No one got hurt, right?"
She hesitated. My gut dropped.
"Bishop won't wake up." She finally said. "But we're keeping a close eye on him. He's with Lex."
I fidgeted, suddenly feeling as though I might throw up right on the spot. "Someone was in my room." I blurted out. "I think it was Lex."
"What?" Her brows cinched in confusion.
"I found my letter behind the desk." I nodded to the envelope with the Presidential seal. "Someone was reading it. And Lex left the party early. He took Harbor to my room and didn't come back."
"You think Lex did this?" She held eye contact, refusing to let up.
"I don't know. Maybe." I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly aware of Leon's shirt that swallowed me. "But I don't think he should be conducting the blood tests alone. You should watch him."
She exhaled, tapping her fingers on the hinge of the door. "The only problem with that is I don't know what I'm looking for. He's the medic. Not me. There's a million things he does that I don't understand."
"Why would Lex put everyone to sleep?" Leon asked. "I mean, if he really wanted to hurt her, he's had more than enough opportunities to."
"Why would any of the crew want to hurt her?" Jill threw up an exasperated hand. "We can figure out motive later. Right now, my priority is finding who did this."
With that, Jill was gone. No further discussion. The moment the door closed, Leon was sliding the lock into place.
He turned back to me. "Guess we're on lockdown.'
I crossed my arms. "Feels more like timeout."
He glanced at the wardrobe. "Wanna play Battleship?"
~ ~ ~
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 13:45
The hours passed slowly. Everyone seemed to forget about eating today, which left me feeling starved. I wasn't going to be the one to demand breakfast in the middle of the investigation.
It was well after lunch time when Jill and Owen finally returned to the room.
"Results are in." Owen spoke first, ducking through the doorway.
Jill leaned against the wall, throwing the door closed behind him. "Everyone's clean." Her tone was just as irritated as her face.
Leon frowned. "Everyone?"
Owen nodded. "Whatever it was, it's not showin' up on any of Lex's fancy panels."
"What about the punch?" Leon asked.
"Someone dumped it before we got to it." Jill muttered. "We swabbed the bowl hoping to find traces of it. No luck."
"How's Bishop?" I interrupted. "Is he okay?"
"He ingested more punch than anyone else." Jill explained. "Lex thinks it might have been an overdose."
"Overdose?" I shot to my feet. "Is he—?"
"He's fine." Owen assured me. "Recoverin'."
Despite my relief, an uncontrollable wave of nausea punched me in the gut.
"Can I see him?" I looked toward the door.
"It's safer if ya stay here." Owen answered, crossing his arms. "Now, Jill tells me someone disturbed ya letter?"
I nodded numbly, wishing more than anything that I could leave the room.
"Might I ask what was in it? That someone would be looking for?"
It really didn't matter to me if they knew what the President had asked of me. So, I ripped open the drawer, snatched the letter from its depths, and handed it to him. "Read it yourself."
He frowned, but accepted it, carefully opening the envelope and unfolding the missive.
Jill read over his shoulder. Both of their frowns deepened the further they got into it. When Owen was finished, he handed it to Jill, who continued reading.
"I have to ask." He shifted on his feet. "Are ya thinking of goin' back?"
"No." Leon answered.
"I haven't decided yet." I mumbled, ignoring him.
Owen raised a brow at Leon. "It's her choice."
"It is." His jaw tightened. "But Piers and his squad showed up and now Kendra is in danger. Again. She's not getting on that fucking helicopter."
"Leon—" Owen tried to rationalize with him.
"If the President wants her back so bad, and if she makes the choice to go back, then he can send another crew."
"You really think Piers would hurt her?" Jill tilted her head.
"It's not Piers I'm worried about."
"Avery?" Owen suggested.
"I don't know any of those people." Leon glared at no one in particular. "They're strangers. They never should have been allowed aboard the ship."
Jill handed me my letter, barely even looking at me. "They'll be gone soon enough. Their fuel delivery was supposed to arrive this morning."
"It didn't?" Leon raised a brow.
"Delayed by a storm." Owen explained. "We're waiting on word from the U.S. Navy."
"Speaking of communications," Jill said, "we have to radio HQ. Chris should know what's going on. He'll want to talk to you, Leon."
"No more lockdown?" He snorted.
"Kendra can't go above deck." Owen said it like it was final. "It's too open. We don't know who's watching. She has to stay down here."
"I'm hungry." I finally grumbled, crossing my arms. "Can I at least go to the kitchen?"
Jill hummed. "We should enforce groups of three or more. Kendra is never alone with anyone."
"Can I choose?" I asked.
Owen tilted his head. "Who'd you have in mind?"
"There's a few people I trust without a doubt."
"Who?" Jill asked.
"You." I nodded to her. "And you." I looked to Owen.
"We have to be present for the call to HQ. The comms only work above deck." Jill explained. "Anyone else?"
"Avery." I answered without hesitation. "Wraith. Piers."
"Piers?" Leon seemed genuinely surprised by this.
"He saved our lives on Myrtle Beach." I explained. "He made sure we got to the ship. And when I was trapped below deck, he made sure Leon and I got out alive. It's not him. I trust him."
To my surprise, Leon nodded, silently accepting my answer.
Owen clicked his tongue. "Alright. As ya wish."
~ ~ ~
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 14:30
"Three people are to stay with her at all times." Jill stressed the words to Wraith. "If you have to leave for any reason, you get someone to replace you. Understand?"
I moved throughout the kitchen, busying myself while the agents got in my way.
"Is there anyone who's not clear to watch her?" Wraith asked.
"There's no solid evidence to indicate anyone at this time." She paused. "But there's reason to believe Lex might be involved."
"Lex?"
"He was in Kendra's room. That's all we know."
Wraith looked unconvinced, but she nodded. "Probably better he stays with Bishop anyway."
Owen towered over all of us, briefly looking to Leon before turning back to Wraith. "We have to report to headquarters. We'll be above deck. Should be a brief report."
At that moment, Piers and Avery entered the kitchen, looking more confused than anything else. Jill pulled them aside, likely giving them the same run down she'd given Wraith.
Leon took that opportunity to turn to me. "I won't be gone long." He promised. "Twenty minutes tops."
Nodding, I grabbed a zucchini and placed it on the cutting board. "You want me to make you lunch too?"
"Yeah, sounds good." He gave me a firm nod, turning toward the door.
I watched as Jill, Owen, and Leon shuffled out of the room, leaving me alone with my three picks of the litter: Avery, Wraith, and Piers.
Avery relaxed against the bulkhead. "So, are you gonna offer to make us lunch, or is Leon special?"
Wraith smirked at his comment, but said nothing.
"You don't even like sautéed zucchini." I argued.
"I'm not feeling picky right now, I'll eat anything."
I sighed, looking around at all three of them. "Is everyone hungry?"
"Starving." Piers mumbled.
"Right." With another breath, I pulled a knife from the knife block and used it to point to the other side of the island. "Stay out of the way and you'll get a nice home cooked meal."
A subtle smile found Piers' face and he kicked away from the door, roughly shoving Avery ahead of him. The two bickered as they obediently got out of my way.
Wraith stayed by the sink and I gave her a pointed look. She shrugged. "I already ate, so I think that means I can be under foot as much as I'd like."
"Ha ha," I deadpanned before gesturing toward the boys with the knife. "I need to wash my vegetables. Shoo."
With a raspy laugh, she did as I said, but only the bare minimum. She still stayed between me and the door.
I grabbed the rest of my ingredients and laid them out on the island before rinsing the zuchinnis in the sink. Then came a pot of water, which I left on a flame. The potatoes were washed next and I promptly skinned them as my three bodyguards talked amongst themselves.
I wondered how much time had passed. It would have been useful to have a watch right about now.
Just as I dropped the potatoes into the pot, the kitchen door opened, and in stepped Rook.
"Hey, Wraith, Captain sent me down here to get the records of investigation, but he said they're in his quarters. Can I have your key?"
Wraith sighed, waving him into the room. "You stay here. I'll go get the records."
Rook tried to argue, but she was already gone. He crossed his arms, something almost like a scowl on his face.
I scraped the potato skins into my hands, watching him closely. "How's Bishop doing?"
He winced, like the question had actually hit him. His eyes seemed to look anywhere but at me and he shrugged. "He's... okay. Lex is taking care of him."
"Have you checked on him lately?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I'm really busy. There's a lot going on right now. I shouldn't even be standing around down here, I'm supposed to be upstairs."
Touchy subject. Noted.
My gaze went to the wall, imagining for a moment that I could see through it. The infirmary was only on the other side of the wall. Where Lex and Bishop were. It wouldn't have taken much for Rook to stop by.
But if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Rook was an avoidant man. He kept himself busy when stress became too much. It was possible that visiting Bishop in the state he was in would be too difficult. Too distracting.
So, I dropped it.
Before I could say anything else, Harvey's voice echoed from above deck. "Rook! I need that Yagi!"
Rook threw his hands up in frustration, "How the fuck am I supposed to know what a Yagi looks like?"
"It's an antenna." Piers explained.
Rolling his eyes, Rook kicked off the door and disappeared toward the storage closet down the hall.
I turned to look at Avery and Piers. "You think they're having trouble reaching headquarters?"
Piers opened his mouth to respond when his radio crackled on his vest. Lopez's voice carried through the speaker.
"Sentinel Actual, this is Sentinel One. Fuel ship thirty minutes out. Navy vessel requesting contact with mission leader."
Piers hummed, radioing back quickly. "I need a replacement body below deck."
"Sentinel One or Sentinel Two, sir?"
"I don't give a shit. One of you get down here."
I snorted, finally reaching for a vegetable and holding it steady on the cutting board. The sound of the knife slicing through the zucchini was surprisingly soothing. Rhythmic and mundane.
I hardly noticed when two more people stepped into the kitchen. Piers mumbled something I didn't listen to, patting someone on the back before slipping away. After a moment, my gaze slid their way.
Both Lopez and Harper had come.
"You boys hungry?" I asked. "I can skin a few more potatoes."
"That sounds great!" Lopez laughed enthusiastically, throwing an arm around Avery. "Very kind of you."
"I'm alright, thank you." Harper nodded politely.
Lopez leaned against the counter, humming to himself. "Did we ever do that inspection?" He looked to Avery.
The pilot drummed his fingers against the counter. "No. You took your ass to bed at eight p.m. sharp."
Lopez lifted his arms defensively. "What? A man can't have a strict bed time?"
"What kind of grown ass man has a bed time?" Avery shook his head.
Lopez waved off the insult. "Ahhh, whatever. We should probably go do the inspection now. Before the fuel supply gets here."
"Can't." Avery crossed his arms. "Gotta stay right here."
"Why?"
"Orders from Valentine."
Lopez scoffed. "You're telling me Valentine ordered you in particular to stay here?"
Avery gave him a stern look. "Three people have to stay here at all times."
The engineer sighed, clearly annoyed. Then, as if right on schedule, Rook and Mouse walked past the open door.
"Hey!" Lopez called to them, grabbing Avery and tugging him toward the exit. "We have to do an inspection of the helicopter. Can you two stay here for a minute?"
"We have to—" Mouse began to speak, but Lopez cut him off.
"We'll only be five minutes. Maybe ten."
"The Captain needs us—" Rook started.
"Just real quick." Lopez interrupted, tugging Avery into the hall. "Thanks!" Both of them were gone seconds later, the hangar door slamming shut behind them.
Rook hiked the box he was carrying higher in his arms. "Owen's gonna blow a fuse."
Mouse frowned, looking toward the stairs. "It's not the Captain I'm worried about. What about Jill? She wanted these amplifiers."
Harper stepped closer to the door. "Run them up there really quick. I can watch her for a few seconds."
Rook hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Just don't be too long." Harper smiled warmly. "I don't want to have to bring her upstairs."
"Miss Kendra isn't allowed on the upper deck." Mouse fidgeted, distressed.
"Exactly. So hurry back."
I raised a brow. "Jill's orders were—"
"Rook!" Jill yelled from above us. "Where the hell are you?"
Rook gave me an apologetic look. "Give me one minute."
"But I'm not supposed to—"
"I'll be right back." He assured me, moving for the stairs.
Mouse hesitated, looking between me and Rook. When Jill's voice carried down the stairs again, his brow cinched and he lifted his box of equipment higher before ducking through the door.
I looked back to Harper. Noticed, for the first time, just how familiar he suddenly seemed. Tall. Bulky. A prominent brow. And eyes so dark they were practically black.
He smiled like we were friends.
~ ~ ~
Leon
September 27, 2005 — Tuesday 14:30
The ocean air was especially icy today. I stared out at the open ocean, lost in thought as Owen and Jill battled to get the Satellite Communications up and running. For the first time since boarding the ship, there were several ships on the horizon around us. Each one was marked. All of them were military vessels. A mixture of different countries now that we were in international waters.
That made me nervous. And I quickly understood why Owen and Jill didn't want Kendra on the upper deck. Too many people. Too many weapons. None of them guaranteed to be friendly. Especially if they knew, in the midst of the V-virus chaos, that we had the only known immune person aboard. Foreign governments would want her in their possession. Or worse: anyone allied with Verissimo may want her for reasons I didn't even want to think about.
Harvey fiddled with the Satellite Communications, trying his best to get us in contact with the BSAA. As usual, there was interference.
Rook was sent to retrieve an antenna. The longer he took to bring it back, the more antsy Harvey became. I’d never seen the scrawny guy so irritated.
I remembered the last time we’d had issues with the Comms. How I had yelled at him. How I’d scared him. I wondered if his lack of patience had anything to do with the fact that I was standing right over him while he struggled.
Perhaps I should have apologized.
When Rook returned with the Yagi, Harvey made quick work of assembling it to a dish. We got some signal, but there was too much static for clear communications.
Every wasted minute left me feeling anxious. I kept my gaze on the ships around us.
While we tried to get our communications up, the U.S. Navy made contact. I eavesdropped on the entire radio call. Watched as Harper and Lopez went below deck. Fidgeted when Piers showed his face.
Jill's order was followed. Three people were still with her. Technically four. One more than needed. It should have calmed me.
Harvey cursed, stealing my attention. He threw his hands up in frustration and muttered something to Jill.
Jill turned to the rest of the crew, growing increasingly irritated.
“Rook! Mouse! Grab the amplifiers from the storage closet.” She barked the orders.
They obediently vanished below deck.
When Wraith came upstairs, my anxiety sharpened. Kendra had told us exactly which three people she trusted most. Two of them were now standing only ten feet away from me.
That left Avery as her only original bodyguard. He was a pilot, not an agent. Still, he was a pilot who had saved her life once. That was the only reason I didn't abandon Owen's call to Chris just to check on her.
I checked the time again. 14:45.
Wraith looked unnerved as she approached Owen, tucking the long strands of her black hair behind her ear. She handed a Manila folder to the Captain, crossing her arms as soon as the documents were in his possession.
"Did you move the investigation records out of the bottom drawer?"
His brow cinched. "No."
She threw a suspicious look around the deck. "I found it in the top drawer of your desk."
"Today's investigation records?" He asked.
"No. The original ones. With Kendra's statements."
His gaze hardened. "I don't remember movin' them."
Wraith's jaw worked. "You don't think someone went into your quarters, do you?"
Owen’s lips formed a thin line within the red wires of his beard. Our eyes met and I knew we were thinking the same thing.
If someone had entered Kendra’s room and read her letter, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to conclude they’d entered the Captain’s quarters too. The problem with that was that Owen had information that was far more useful to prying eyes than the President’s letters.
Especially if they’d read the investigation documents from seven days ago. Kendra’s entire statement was in those documents. Everything from Richard Moroe to the torture she’d endured at the hands of Verissimo.
Which ruled out Lex as a possible snoop. Because Lex had led the questioning for that investigation beside Jill. It was the primary reason Kendra and I were so off-put by him. He already knew exactly what was in those documents.
That gave me the slightest comfort. As I looked around at the people beside me, I did a mental check of who was still below deck.
Avery. Lopez. Harper. Lex. Bishop.
The latter was incapacitated from my understanding. Which meant, if one of them was the mole, that left at least three people who could defend Kendra long enough for me to get below deck.
The conversation with Chris was quick enough. We explained what had happened. What we knew. What we were doing to contain the problem.
Satisfyingly, Chris thought like me.
“The mole isn’t my crew.” He said. Certain. “I hand picked every one of them.”
Owen nodded. “We’re gatherin’ evidence. Narrowin’ it down. Whoever it is, they won’t be given an opportunity to make their next move.”
The radio crackled. “Keep an eye on those soldiers.” Chris ordered. “The army may have helped us once, but don’t forget which country put her danger already.”
Only a few feet away, Piers glanced over at us. We shared a silent understanding. His hand found the radio strapped to his uniform.
“Sentinel One, this is Sentinel Actual.”
A long pause answered him.
Finally: "Sentinel One, go ahead." That voice belonged to Lopez. I recognized his chirpy tone.
Piers's gaze shifted to the incoming fuel ship. It couldn't have been more than a nautical mile off the starboard bow.
My gaze flicked to my watch. 14:55.
“Confirm your location.” Piers said into the radio.
"Hangar, sir."
Piers frowned. "Hangar?"
"Affirmative. Conducting helicopter inspection with Falcon."
My stomach tightened.
Piers straightened. "Who's with Priority One?"
Priority One. It was the first time I’d heard their designation for Kendra. Given my own understanding of military call signs, Falcon could only be their aviation asset. Avery.
“Priority One remains in custody of Sentinel Two. Asset is currently on the lower deck with BSAA personnel Rook and Mouse.”
My eyes snapped to the right. Where Rook and Mouse kneeled on the deck in a mess of cords and satellite equipment.
Sentinel Two. Harper.
Harper, who’d left the party before it started.
Harper, who’d bumped the punch bowl on his way out.
Harper, who was the only person who had woken up last night when Kendra and I made noise. The only one not sedated enough to sleep through it.
I shoved the SatComm into Owen’s hand, heading for the stairs immediately.
I’d spent the last several hours trying to calculate every possibility. Every threat. Every person who could hurt her.
Yet, somehow, I was stupid enough to leave her alone. To trust her to the team.
Piers followed on my heels.
“Sentinel Two, do you copy?”
Silence.
“Sentinel Two. This is Sentinel Actual. Status report.”
Nothing.
Just as I reached the top step, a gun shot echoed beneath us.
Then I was running. My heart pounded in my throat, drowning out every other thought. Fear. Anger. Panic. Too many emotions surged through me at once for me to separate one from the other.
Piers cursed, our boots thundering down the steel steps at the same time. I jumped the last few stairs, catching myself against the bulkhead before sprinting toward the kitchen.
The moment my hand found the knob, Kendra’s piercing scream splintered the silence.
Summary: 11,012 words // fluff, sickeningly sweet fluff, slice of life, smut. Content Warning: NSFW
Author's Note: Content Warning: you win. NSFW 🩷
>Chapter 41
Chapter 40:
Leon
September 26, 2005 — Monday
Watching everyone put everything together left me feeling unusually stressed out. Kendra had specifically asked them not make a big deal about this.
The mess room had been transformed. A fold-up table sat against one wall, meticulously arranged with the cheesecake the men had worked on together, bowls of chips and dip, alcoholic drinks on one side, a nonalcoholic punch bowl on the other, and chocolate-covered pretzels Mouse had spent two hours dipping by hand.
Bishop was now hanging a dart board in the far corner of the room, and the poker table had been removed from the center of the room to make it more open.
Wraith hurried through the door, black hair swaying behind her. "Mission accomplished." She smoothed down her dress as she ran to Owen.
"Ya look lovely." He greeted her, pecking her on the cheek.
She blushed. Which was weird for her. Wraith usually made Owen blush, not the other way around.
"I convinced her to wear something nice." Wraith brushed past the compliment.
"I'm surprised she agreed." Jill mumbled, mostly to herself.
"I'm a convincing person." Wraith smirked.
Avery finished laying out a stack of cups, arranging them into a neat tower. Then he turned on his heel and looked to the door.
"Okay, when she comes in, everyone act natural."
"No birthday song?" Bishop teased.
Rook elbowed him in the lung.
"Don't even utter the word 'birthday'." Avery fixed him with a look so stern that it felt out of character. "We're all just having a nice night. That's it. Okay?"
"Operation 'no-birthday-party' party is in full effect." Bishop nodded, saluting.
Mouse peered down the hall through the open door and snapped his head back in our direction. "She's coming!"
"Be normal! Be normal." Avery hissed, shoving Bishop so he was facing Rook instead of him.
Everyone seemed to settle into feigned conversations with one another. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at the obviousness of it all. They may have been agents, but they definitely weren't actors.
From across the room, Harper shoved away from the wall. He brushed past the table, making the punch bowl slosh, and nodded to Piers and Lopez, muttering something to them as he headed for the exit. I watched as the most stoic of us all dipped through the doorway and slid past Kendra in the hall. Something told me I wouldn't be seeing him for the rest of the night.
Kendra mumbled something to him as he passed, making a face when he didn't respond and kept walking.
The moment she stepped into the room, Avery lifted his drink. "Well look who finally showed up!"
She smoothed down her dress, fidgeting with the hem that came just past her knees. "Well, no one told me we were meeting in here, so I went to upper deck first."
Wraith laughed sympathetically, stepping forward and gently tugging her further into the room. "Sorry, sweet pea, it was too cold up there. Come on, Owen's got some warm cider brewing."
Kendra dusted off her upper arms. "I wasn't up there that long." She assured her.
Still, a subtle blush dusted her cheeks and the tip of her nose, and I couldn't tell if it was because she was cold or embarrassed. Either way, I felt bad. Total failure on our part not to give her a destination.
I kept my distance, choosing instead to watch her as she circled the room. Everyone did a good job of pretending they weren't waiting their turn. Everyone except me, apparently.
When she finally found her way to me, she gave me a teasing look. "You waiting for me or something?"
I hid my smile. "You rudely spoke to everyone else before me. I think my feelings are hurt."
She crinkled her nose. "Baby."
I chewed on my smile. "Sorry about the party. I tried to talk them out of it."
She waved it off. "They're being subtle enough." Her gaze flicked down her body. "I'm a bit over dressed, though. Do I look weird?"
I held her gaze, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "You look beautiful."
The laughter in her tone settled, smile softening as she looked up at me. For a moment, her eyes glistened. Then she blinked and looked toward the table.
"Im guessing you had something to do with the cheesecake?"
I shrugged. "Well, you didn't get to enjoy the Denny's slice I bought you. Figured this would make up for it." I paused, looking toward the dessert. "As you can tell, I had nothing to do with the cherries."
She tilted her face down, staring up at me through her brow in an almost flirtatious manner. "I liked your messy cherries."
An amused breath slipped out of me. "I ruined it."
"Not possible." She bumped me with her hip.
I raised a brow. "Think so?" It was more of a challenge than anything else.
"Well," she dipped her head, "at the risk of sounding completely corny, I think anything you touch is made just a little bit better by it."
No one around us was listening. They were absorbed in their own conversations and activities. So I leaned down until my lips nearly met her ear, lowering my voice to a whisper.
"Does that include you?"
Her cheeks brightened immediately and I knew in that moment that she hadn't been cold earlier.
"Leon!" She hissed, lightly smacking my arm.
I leaned away, chuckling to myself and clicking my tongue. "Completely innocent comment."
She rubbed at the back of her neck, looking around as if we were in trouble. Still, a shy smile lingered on her lips. "Don't make me think about your hands on me."
I nodded, forcing my smile down. "Yes, ma'am."
Those two brown eyes flicked up at me, searching my face for something. Her hand fell away from her neck and she tilted her head. "Thought you were avoiding me today."
My brows twitched. "You're the last person on this ship I'd avoid."
She took half a step closer, lowering her voice. "I mean, after the letters... I dont know. I thought you were doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"You know." She crossed her arms, the gesture protective, not defensive. "The distance thing."
A heavy sigh scraped out of me and I shifted on my feet. "No. I'm not doing the distance thing. Didn't exactly accomplish anything last time, did it?"
"No," she smiled sadly. "But things are different this time."
Because this time, we both knew I'd have to leave. I kept that thought to myself. Instead, I dipped down and lowered my voice again. "We can talk about that later." I leaned away. "Right now, you have a not-birthday-party to enjoy."
Playfulness flickered in her eye. "I do, don't I?" She twirled to my other side, the motion fluid. "You know what would make me really enjoy this party?"
"I get the feeling you're about to tell me." I held her gaze.
She looked to the other side of the room. "Hey, Owen. I think you should play a song."
An exasperated sigh slipped out of me, already knowing exactly what she was going to ask. "Kendra."
She ignored me, grinning in Owen's direction. The Captain clapped his hands together, a smile of his own hidden beneath the red wires of his beard. "I think you're right."
As Owen grabbed his guitar from the wall, Kendra spun back around to face me. "I want to dance."
"These aren't my dancing shoes."
"You don't own dancing shoes." She grabbed the skirt of her dress and swayed back and forth, showing it off to me. "I wore my favorite dancing dress. It has to go to use."
"You should ask someone who knows how to dance."
She shook her head vigorously, a mischievous look on her face. "Are you trying to ruin my birthday party?"
I crossed my arms. "It's not a birthday party, remember?"
"Right, so the birthday cheesecake was just a coincidence?"
"Hardly had anything to do with me. All I did was tell them you don't like cake. They did the rest."
She raised a brow in challenge. "So, Avery got me a present, everyone else made me my favorite dessert, and you... won't even dance with me?" She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "How could you be so cruel?"
"You're manipulating me." I teased.
"I am." She grinned without remorse.
Owen began to strum the guitar, a pretty melody filling the room. It started slow, with a folk-like hum beneath it.
"Something faster!" Kendra laughed.
He nodded along to his own beat, stomping his heel in perfect time. "Don't worry, love," he almost sang the reassurance. "I'll play you a song I wrote myself."
She laughed, crossing her arms and staring at him.
He grinned, finished the opening, then stamped the chords—cutting the sound for a heartbeat.
"Yeah!" He sang, plucking the strings faster now, the folk melody something more lively.
Kendra turned on me immediately, smiling widely as her entire body responded to the rhythm.
Her dance was almost entirely in her legs, stomping to the beat as she spun around me. Owen began to sing, the lyrics folded into folk storytelling.
I couldn't focus too much on the lyrics. A love ballad if I had to guess. Kendra stole my attention, clapping the beat as if to assist me.
I felt awkward and out of place, unsure what to do with myself as she danced around me.
"Come on, Leon, dance!" Avery shouted at me from the corner of the room.
I kept my eyes on Kendra, who grabbed my hand and lifted it over her head. She proceeded to spin herself, completely confident with the dance she was inventing.
The entire room around us was set into motion. They clapped. Stomped. Danced in nonsensical circles. Laughed with each other.
Feeling less observed now, I loosened up, allowing Kendra to guide me. She giggled, curls bouncing with every movement. "There you go!" She clapped in time with Owen. "Eighty beats per minute, it's easy!"
Easy to her. She practically studied music and rhythm. I had no idea what I was doing.
She threw her head back, lifting her arms and melting into the song completely. Like she'd heard it a thousand times.
I stopped trying to follow the steps. There weren't really steps anyway. Just her—moving like she could see the rhythm. Following a path in the melody that I couldn't find.
Her curls caught the light when she turned, bouncing loose around her face. The laughing, or maybe the dancing, left her cheeks flushed. She spun too fast for anyone who cared about balance, but somehow never stumbled.
I realized I was watching her hands more than anything else. The way they cut through the air on the beat, then softened on the offbeat, like she was drawing the song out of the air instead of just moving to it.
She grabbed my wrist again without looking, already knowing where I'd be. "C'mon," she called over the music.
At first, I was still following her. Not leading. Not really choosing anything. Just letting her pull me through the rhythm. One step behind everything she did.
Then something shifted in me. I stopped watching her feet. Started watching her timing instead.
There was a fraction of a second where she leaned into the turn before it came, trusting the floor even when it was behind her. Careless, like she wasn't worried about tripping. I mirrored it without thinking.
My weight shifted on the beat instead of after it. My steps stopped feeling like guesses and started feeling like answers.
She turned back toward me mid-step. Paused for half a heartbeat. Then grinned, as if she'd been waiting for this exact moment.
After that, I wasn't following anymore. We were just... moving. Same beat. Same space. No hesitation between us.
We hardly touched each other, and yet the dance couldn't have existed without the other.
Owen whooped from across the room, clearly pleased with everyone's reaction.
Kendra spun into me and I caught her briefly before spinning her away again.
The chorus carried over us clear as day. "I can run my boots — clean through the soles. Chasin' the sun, yeah — where it goes."
She followed the beat, body jostling with the tempo as she beckoned me closer. I couldn't help the small smile that found my face, obeying her without question.
"Ain't no map — can tell a heart — whatta do. 'Cause all roads'll lead — back to you."
She pressed her back into me, clapping in sync with the song as she danced on me this time, winding around my body like I existed to steady her.
"And if lovin' you was my — greatest sin? It don't mean nothin', I'd do — it again."
Then, as if by divine intervention, she tripped—falling across my stomach. I caught her on instinct, dragging her back up. She laughed, tilting forward and burying her face in my chest. Wrapping her in my arms, I cradled the back of her head and chuckled under my breath.
"What happened?" I teased her.
"I was testing your reflexes." She leaned back and grinned up at me. Without waiting for a response, she pushed away from me and fell back into the dance as if nothing had happened at all.
The moment she was away from me, I wanted her to come back. When she turned her head and looked away, I wanted her eyes to find mine again.
But I didn't need to ask. Didn't need to close the distance. Because she was already homing in on me again. Drawn to each other like the room wasn't full of people.
She reached for my hand and I gave it to her. Immediately. This time, when she lifted my arm, I knew the cue. Our fingers fit together just enough that I could spin her. Laughter bubbled out of her as she dizzied herself, trusting me not to let her fall.
As Owen sang the chorus of his song again, the lyrics settled somewhere deep in my chest. So deep that, for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Kendra dropped onto the balls of her feet and I steadied her, even when it felt like the world was tilting beneath my own.
She slipped out of my grasp, holding my gaze with the smile of someone who had no worries on their mind. Just this dance. Just this moment.
I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. My eyes had a mind of their own.
There was something dangerously peaceful about being near her. It was wrong. Not the feeling, but the timing. Or maybe the circumstances.
When the song ended, I watched her go. Watched her drift toward Owen and request another song. And maybe I didn't follow after her, but my gaze did.
Even when she disappeared into the small crowd... I still looked for her.
~ ~ ~
Kendra
After the fifth song, I was completely out of breath, but enjoying myself too much to stop. It was as though no one else in the room existed. I danced around Leon like he was my center of gravity.
At first, he didn't seem to be too into dancing. But it didn't take him long to loosen up. By the end of the first dance, I had his full attention. I couldn't bring myself to dance with anyone else. Not that I wanted to. I was perfectly content spending the entire evening within arms length of him.
By the time Owen finished another cover of a mainstream song, I was clinging to Leon by the arm, forcing myself to catch my breath. For the briefest moment, my gaze went to the snack table, where I caught Avery watching me.
He gave me a knowing look, a cocky smile lifting the corner of his lips. His gaze flickered between Leon and me before he raised a glass in my direction and gave me a pointed nod. Like he had just figured something out and wanted me to know that he knew.
I averted my gaze quickly. Meaning to look at the ground or anywhere that would make me look less guilty. Instead, my traitorous eyes found Leon. We held eye contact only long enough for my cheeks to burn.
Flustered, I took a step back and searched for a quick distraction.
"You know, if that cheesecake sits out any longer, it'll go to waste." I flicked my hair over my shoulder just to give my hand something to do.
Bishop clapped his hands together with all the enthusiasm of someone who had been impatiently awaiting just that. "I want to cut it!" He practically jumped toward the table. "I don't trust any of you to divide it fairly."
"He failed geometry, don't trust him." Rook said flatly.
"There's thirteen of us, we're all getting small slices anyway." Harvey mumbled.
"Twelve, I'm lactose intolerant." Lopez shrugged.
Jill leaned against the wall. "So are Lex and Mouse."
"So, ten slices?" Bishop asked hopefully.
"Make it eight," Owen spoke up. "Wraith and I don't eat a bunch of sugar before bed."
Bishop grinned as if he were up to something nefarious. "Excellent. Eight slices it is."
Everyone moved to the table to watch over Bishop as he cut the cheesecake. I intended to follow, but stopped when a hand grabbed me around the elbow.
I looked back to find Avery, holding his other hand suspiciously behind his back.
I already knew it was the birthday present he got for me. I shook my head immediately. "Really, Avery, it’s okay. I don't need anything."
"You're gonna love it. Trust me." He pushed the gift wrapped rectangle into my hand.
"He's right." Leon added from behind me. "You will."
I gave Leon a disapproving look. "Don't encourage him."
"You have to accept it." Avery shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. "It's no use to me."
Heaving a sigh, I grabbed the taped down corner wrapping and tore it open. It was a book—dark blue or maybe a faded black. I realized I was looking at the back cover, so I ripped the remaining wrapping paper off and flipped it over.
I recognized it instantly.
"No fucking way!" I held it out at arm's length, staring at it like it might not be real. A wide smile split my lips, too giddy to even hide the laughter in my voice. "Where did you find this?"
"Yard sale. Sheer dumb luck that I came across it." He chuckled.
I spun around to show Leon, vibrating with excitement. "Do you know what this is?"
"Tell me." The corner of his lip kicked up with amusement.
I latched onto his arm, pulling him closer, jostling him as I nearly jumped with joy. "It's the star book! The one I was telling you about! Remember? Look," I lifted it toward his face, "it glows in the dark!"
Something softened in his face. The smile he gave me was so unexpectedly fond that it made my chest tighten. "So, you're telling me the frogs really didn't teach you astronomy?"
Giving a playful roll of my eyes, I gently smacked his bicep. "You joke now, but I'm gonna annoy you every night with this book until we reach the UK."
"Is that a promise?"
Our eyes locked and I bit back a smile before turning back to Avery.
"This is the best thing ever. Thank you so much."
"And to think you almost declined it." He laughed. Without warning, he threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, pitching his voice low enough so only I could hear. "You're gonna get pretty homesick in the UK. Maybe this will bring a little bit of home to you, yeah?"
My smile immediately dropped, a deep ache burning a hole in my chest.
He playfully shoved me away, lightly tapping my cheek. "No frowning."
"Kendra!" Bishop's voice cut through the emotional bubble. All three of us perked up, looking toward the table where the lieutenant held up a plate with a perfectly cut slice of cheesecake.
"You get the first slice!"
Something about Bishop's energy always made me smile. Maybe it was because he reminded me of Hayden. And maybe there was a grieving part of me that was clinging to that even if I couldn't figure out how they were similar. Regardless, the frown vanished and I hurried to grab the plate.
"I made sure to give you the prettiest piece," he said matter-of-factly.
Avery leaned over my shoulder, eyeing the plate. "Based on whose standards? I wanna see the other pieces."
Piers shoved Avery slightly. "You're a bit too ugly to be making a judgment on what looks good or not."
Avery gave him a deadpan look. "That's fucked up."
Piers smirked like he won and turned his attention elsewhere, unapologetic.
Something unexpectedly warm settled in my chest. I watched as Bishop handed out cheesecake slices. Listened as the room buzzed with casual chatter. Allowed myself to settle into the moment.
And for a moment—just the briefest moment—everything was as it should be. As life was meant to be. Laughter echoing around me. Music humming beneath the conversation. A cheesecake made by a friend melting on my tongue. A hand on my shoulder; gentle enough to be friendly, but rough enough to be playful. Eyes bright with joy as we took turns teasing each other.
It wasn't a room full of agents and soldiers. No one was worried about death, or disease, or war.
I'd always been the person who felt alone in a room full of people. But when I found myself as the wallflower, observing the room and the people around me, that familiar loneliness was absent tonight.
Leon drifted back to me, passing me a soft smile before he settled against the wall beside me. He said nothing as he forked another bite of his dessert.
My head rolled lazily across the bulkhead to find his face. Our eyes met and I smiled at him. It was a different smile. One I had reserved for him.
He set his fork on his plate, licking the cherry syrup from his lips before lifting a questioning brow at me. Still, he said nothing.
I laughed through my nose, soft and peaceful, and tilted closer. There was the faintest hesitation where I considered moving away, but I swallowed it. Continued. Ever so gently, I rested my head on his shoulder.
For a second, he didn't move. He stayed completely still, like I was a cat that had fallen asleep in his lap.
Then, I felt his index finger loop into the waist belt around my midsection. With equal gentleness, he pulled me closer into him.
No one really noticed us. Or if they did, they didn't call attention to it. It would have been naive to assume the rest of the crew was blind to this. If I was being honest, I didn't think they really cared all that much.
Whether they approved or not, they kept it to themselves. I was grateful for that. We had enough to worry about without their two cents.
For a while, Leon and I just stood next to each other, exchanging casual conversation. His hands would brush my ribcage and I would pretend not to notice. Every time he made me laugh, I would cling to his arm and fold forward in a fit of giggles. He'd pretend it was perfectly normal for me to latch onto him.
Eventually, the atmosphere was broken by an intrusion of the last person we expected.
Lex.
He wandered over, a solo cup of punch in hand, a foreign look of anxiety lining his face. His gaze flickered between us before settling on me.
"Hey," he hesitated. "Can we talk? Privately?"
I exchanged a glance with Leon. He patted the top of my hand, which was still wrapped around his upper arm, and gave me a reassuring smile. "I'll take our plates to the kitchen."
With that, he pulled the dessert platter from my grasp and trailed away. It was the first time he had willingly walked away without argument when it came to Lex, which told me all I needed to know. He'd been expecting Lex to come and find me.
Slick, I thought. I cursed my obliviousness. Because now I understood why Leon had been so absent today. Of course he would have had a talk with Lex. It was foolish to think he'd leave the situation alone.
Fixing my attention on Lex, I crossed my arms. Not out of intimidation, but out of defensiveness. Maybe even uncertainty. Still, nothing about him screamed aggressive or belligerent, as he'd been last night. Instead, he seemed... tired. Hesitant. He blinked more often than usual, carrying the sort of exhausted guilt that could've been mistaken for someone struggling to stay awake.
"What's up?" I asked.
He fidgeted, swirling the punch just to give his hand something to do. "Look, about last night—" he paused, taking a breath before forcing himself to meet my gaze. "I was... out of line."
A breathy laugh escaped me. "You think?"
With an awkward smile, he nodded and averted his gaze again, staring into the contents of his cup. "I was being a dick. And I said things I didn't mean. Things you didn't deserve."
A frown tugged at my lips, but I kept my voice cool. "Yeah. You were pretty shitty."
He sighed, hazel eyes returning to mine. "I made assumptions. If you can call them that. Projected a lot of... bullshit... on you. It wasn't fair. To you, I mean."
I searched his face, letting the pause linger long enough to make him uncomfortable. Then, quietly, "you were being mean."
Pursing his lips, he gave a dejected shrug. "Yeah. I was. And... I'm sorry."
Exhaling, I shifted my weight, fingers tightening around my arms. "Well... I appreciate that. Thanks."
His shoulders dropped, almost relieved. "I know we aren't friends. And that's my fault. But... maybe we could... start over?"
"Start over?" I echoed, apprehensive.
He made a sound with his mouth. "Yeah. You know. You're one of us now. Might as well try, at least. To be friendly."
An amused breath left me. "Yeah. Sure. That sounds... nice."
He gave me a tight smile. "Great. That's great."
I nodded awkwardly, unsure what else to say.
His mouth opened, but whatever he was going to say was immediately lost to the sound of glass shattering against the steel floor. We both whipped our heads in the direction of the chaos—catching Harbor in the act of jumping up on the snack table. Whiskey bottles lay in pieces around the table, the dark alcohol staining the floor.
"Harbor, no!" I yelled, shoving away from the wall and running over immediately.
Lex followed, faster than me as he reached forward and plucked the medium sized spaniel from the mess before he could step on any of the broken glass.
Everyone was in an uproar, shouting in a mixture of disappointment and protest.
With the dog in one arm, Lex set his solo cup on the table and turned back to me. "I think it's past his bedtime." He joked, hauling Harbor higher up his shoulder. "I'm feeling a bit tired myself. I'll take him to your room."
Letting out a breath, I nodded and looked back to the mess. "I'm gonna clean this up."
Lex was gone a moment later and the rest of us worked together to pick up the mess. Bishop whined about the waste of alcohol and Rook mocked him. The two of them helped me get the broken glass up while Owen retrieved a mop.
By the time Leon returned, the mess was mostly cleaned. The smell of alcohol burned my nose as I discarded the last shards of glass in the trash can. Owen brushed past me with the mop, mumbling a quiet, "'scuse me, kiddo," as he sopped up the whiskey.
"I'm surprised he didn't spill the punch." Harvey remarked, taking up the ladle and pouring the sugary drink into his solo cup.
Bishop stepped closer, snagging a cup from the tower and holding it out to Harvey. "Give me some of that. I'm thirsty as hell."
Harvey pushed his glasses further up his face. "I'm proud of you. You remembered to hydrate this time."
In response, Bishop slugged his arm. "Don't patronize me."
Rook shrugged, taking the ladle from Harvey after he poured Bishop's drink and pouring himself a cup of his own. "To be fair, you tend to drink alcohol like it's water."
A hand suddenly brushed my lower back and I startled. My gaze snapped to the culprit—and I relaxed instantly when I realized it was Leon who had touched me.
He gave me an apologetic smile. "You thirsty? You were dancing around for almost an hour."
With a non-committed shrug, I searched the contents of the table. "Not for punch."
"There's water in the kitchen?" He suggested.
The very thought of cold, clean water sounded heavenly. No excessive sugar. No overbearing flavor. I turned toward the exit almost immediately. "Come with me?"
I didn't need to ask. We both knew he would. So, he didn't answer. He simply headed for the door.
I followed, promising Avery I would be right back.
Avery watched the two of us go, an almost conspiratorial smile on his face.
"Don't get lost." He called after us.
It was hard to ignore him.
~ ~ ~
I flipped through the pages of the constellation book, reminiscing on the illustrations as they brought back long lost memories. Leon leaned over my shoulder, reading the page as I tipped my glass to my lips again.
"Mm!" I swallowed the water quickly, excitedly pointing to the page. "Andromeda! I saw that last night!"
He leaned further over my shoulder to read the description, narrating the text aloud. "'Andromeda is a chain of stars that leads directly to the Andromeda Galaxy.'"
I tipped my head back to look at him and he raised a brow. "Another galaxy? I thought we could only see the Milky Way."
I practically collapsed against the counter in a dramatic show of devastation. "No no no, sweetheart, you're breaking my heart."
Snapping the book shut, I turned abruptly and tried to ignore the stunned look on his face. "Come on, you're getting a lesson in astronomy."
He didn't fight me as I grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him toward the exit.
"Am I being graded?" He asked.
"Yeah, so you better take notes." I snorted, slipping out of the kitchen and immediately flying up the steps toward the upper deck.
As I tugged him from the staircase, I turned only long enough to catch his smile. I always seemed to draw a smile out of him. But this one was different. The endearing kind of look that made me turn away before he could see what it did to me.
With everyone being below deck, the large floodlights had been kept off tonight, leaving only the mounted deck lights to illuminate either end of the upper deck. I leaned back toward the staircase and slapped the switch off, plunging us into darkness.
"How are you going to read your little school book?" Leon's deep tenor carried through the dark.
"With that fancy little flashlight you always keep in your pocket." I teased back, grabbing the hem of his jacket and tugging him into me.
He stumbled closer, a small sound of surprise escaping him as his hands fell on my shoulders. "Take it easy, you're manhandling me."
I hushed him, slipping my hand into the inner lining of his jacket and fumbling for the pocket.
"What are you looking for?" He opened his arms just to make it easier for me.
"The flashlight, what else?"
"It's not in that pocket."
"You moved it?"
"No. It's always on the right side. You're looking on the left."
I paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Just grab it for me." I mumbled, stepping away.
He laughed, reaching into his jacket, grabbing the flashlight, and pushing it into my hand. "You know, normal people would have just asked."
I flicked the flashlight on, shining it directly in his face. He squinted, turning away from the bulb.
"Are you calling me weird?"
"Yes." He answered immediately, reaching for the flashlight. "Give me that."
I held it out of reach. "No, I'm the teacher."
"You can't even tell left from right."
"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that." Pulling the book from under my arm, I handed it to him and shined the beam of light on the cover. "Open to the Late Fall section."
Exhaling, he did as I told him and flicked through the few pages of the book until I once again saw Andromeda.
"Alright, I'm gonna show you something." I indicated to the ground with my head. "Sit."
He raised a brow, looking like he might argue, but ultimately dropped down in front of me. A small smirk lifted my lips and he caught it, giving me a warning look.
With a laugh, I dropped down across from him and leaned over the book, shining the light on the page. "Okay so," I paused, studying the page and looking up at the sky for comparison. When I found it, my gaze found Leon, mouth parting to tell him where to look—and I stopped.
His eyes were pinned on the sky, an almost childlike wonder in his expression. Curious, I looked back to the sky only to realize what he was so fascinated by.
Without the bright floodlights or the light pollution from the city, the sky was clearer than ever. There had been many times I'd seen the night sky without the obstruction of artificial light. Perhaps I'd taken it for granted.
Still, I knew exactly what he was thinking. Without the floodlights or the glow of the coastline, the sky had opened completely. Stars crowded every patch of darkness. The Milky Way arched overhead in a pale river of light, its colors so faint they'd disappear anywhere else. Galaxies and stars and planets, swirling out in the cosmos in a way they were always meant to be seen. A way that we seldom got to see anymore.
My eyes found him again, and my chest tightened. The stars reflected like glitter in his eyes, his lips slightly parted.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said softly.
He blinked, as if my voice had broken some trance, and looked back at me. "Where's the other galaxy?" Then his gaze was on the sky again. "That's the Milky Way isn't it?"
He traced the luminous band of light that cut a path across the sky high overhead.
I craned my head back, finding what I was looking for behind me. I shifted, giving Leon my back so I could point to it.
"You see that bright spot out there? It's small. Kinda like a smudge."
He leaned closer, the heat of him warming my back. "Yeah. I think so."
"That's the Andromeda Galaxy."
He was silent for a long time. An icy breeze dusted the deck and I shivered, tucking my legs into my chest. I was glad I'd faced away from him now because I could feel the cold air billow up my dress. I discreetly tucked the skirt between my legs.
Leon moved behind me and a moment later, draping his jacket over my shoulders. With an amused laugh, I leaned back, resting against his chest. He didn't move away.
"You know, when we look at the stars, we're technically looking back in time."
His hand found my upper arm, rubbing warmth back into my skin. "Is that right?"
I nodded against his chest. "The Andromeda Galaxy is two and a half million light years away. So everything we're seeing right now? It's whatever that galaxy was experiencing millions of years ago. Who knows what it looks like at this exact moment. We'll never know. Even if we went looking, our lives are so short... we couldn't possibly reach it in time. It's one of those mysteries that're so vast. So beyond us. And we have no choice but to be content with not knowing."
He hummed, the sound reverberating in his chest, "I've never been the type that doesn't want to solve a mystery."
"Hmm." I scooted closer into him and his arm encircled my torso, holding onto me. Without thinking about it, I traced the veins over the top of his hand. "I think I have to get comfortable with the idea of not knowing."
"Maybe for the future." He grabbed the flashlight from my other hand and clicked it off. "There's probably a reason we don't get to know. We'd spend too much time worrying about it." He paused. "Like you're doing right now."
I let out a mirthless laugh, but no response came to mind.
He sighed. "I get it. You're not sure what's going to happen. And you're scared. Given your track record with agents, I don't blame you." His fingers curled against my side. "But you're looking to the future and telling yourself it's uncertain while still just seeing the past. The BSAA isn't Strategic Command. It's not the system that failed you."
A frown tugged at my lips. "You're saying that going back... it's not option."
His breath warmed the crown of my head. "I think we both know what protection in the U.S. looks like for you. And I think... Jill and Owen and this crew... they care about you. And they won't let anything happen to you."
But it wasn't them I'd spent the last fifty days with. It wasn't them who had pulled me out of Delacroix's safe house, or protected me when dozens of men had come to take me. They weren't the ones who had hunted Verissimo down across state lines, took down an entire compound of armed security, and rescued me.
Worse? They weren't the ones I felt safe sleeping next to at night. It wasn't their faces I searched for in every room I entered.
If I were a braver person, a more selfish person, I would have begged him not to go. Convinced him to stay with me. And the most awful part of that was he would. If I asked him to, he would.
So I couldn't. This was his job. His country. His duty. To ask him to abandon that for me? It was out of the question.
My eyes remained on the sky instead. Softly, I nodded to the stars. "Look. Pegasus is still in the sky."
He let out an amused breath. "I saw it already. Hard to miss the open box you swear is supposed to be a horse."
A small smile betrayed me. "Ahh, so I did teach you something." I pointed to a significantly brighter star. "What's that one?"
He drew in a long breath, playfully exasperated as he reached for the star book. "Can this be an open book test?"
I chuckled, watching as he flipped through the pages and shone the flashlight across each one. "I'll give you a hint. It's not a star."
He set the book down, snapping his fingers. "A planet. Right."
"It's Mars." I chewed on my smile.
"You didn't even let me guess."
"You would have guessed wrong."
Bowing his head, he brought his lips to my ear, lowering his voice. "You don't know that." Warm breath met my skin and I tilted my face closer until his lips brushed my cheek.
Another gust of ocean air chilled my bare legs and I curled into myself. His hand skated across my thigh, snagging my skirt and pulling it down to my knees. "You cold?" He mumbled against my temple.
"Maybe a little." I admitted quietly.
His hands closed around both of my arms, rubbing over my skin through the jacket. "Come on. We should get back."
I groaned as his warmth abandoned me. He stretched to his full height, stepped over my legs, and extended an arm down to me. Hugging my knees to my chest, I gave him a stubborn look.
"Kendra." He attempted to chastise me, but the word came soft.
"I don't want to go yet."
There was an attempt to muster a stern look. He folded far too easily. "You're going to freeze." He argued.
"I think I can survive another five minutes."
Huffing, he reached for my hand and gently pulled me to my feet. "Are you really gonna give me a hard time over this?” He murmured.
A slow smirk found my lips and I stepped into his space, pressing the book against him as I braced my hands on top of his chest. "Humor me. I don't get to have much fun anymore."
"Why do you think we did all this?" He argued.
"Exactly." I laughed under my breath. "I think I'm allowed to make a bit of trouble tonight."
He shook his head, failing to hide his smile. "You can't use birthday privileges while refusing to let us call it a birthday party."
"What are you, the birthday police?"
His hands closed around my wrists, gently tugging me closer. "Does your fun have to include standing over the open ocean in the middle of the night?"
"So, you're cold?" I teased him. "You want your jacket back?"
Suddenly, he closed the space between us, brushing his lips across mine. My heart skipped a beat when he gave me two subtle kisses. Then he leaned away. "There's a solution where neither of us are cold." He whispered.
I grinned, mischief seeping out of me. "I know exactly how to keep you warm." Quickly, I removed his jacket and shoved it and the book into his arms.
His face filled with wariness. "What—"
I slipped out of his hands and ran for the stairs without warning, goading him to follow. He called after me, confused, but I flew down the stairs, bypassing the kitchen, the infirmary, and every other door as I hurried for the hidden staircase that led down to the hangar.
The door creaked as I shoved it open, stumbling into the hangar as Leon's footsteps echoed behind me. I dove right, suppressing a laugh as I quickly ran to hide behind the nearest large object—a pallet stacked high with boxes of ammunition.
Just as I ducked out of sight, the door flew open again, Leon's heavy boots echoing on the steel floor.
"Kendra?" He half-whispered, steps slowing. "We shouldn't be down here."
Always such a rule follower. The last thing I cared about was getting in trouble for being down here. The worst Owen would do was put us on bathroom duty. Considering we had daily chores anyway, it was hardly something that could dissuade me.
Leon prowled past the pallets, setting the jacket and book on the closest box while dipping to look beneath the helicopter—like I might have chosen such a poor hiding spot.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing and backed away around the other side of the pallet, being sure to keep myself out of view.
He rounded the helicopter and I lost sight of him. I planned to use his footsteps to keep track of him when the room went eerily silent.
A prickle of adrenaline went down my spine, realizing that he was fully committed to the game of cat and mouse I had started. Which was equal parts thrilling and anxiety-inducing. I'd seen Leon in hunter mode before. It was something he was very good at.
He wouldn't hurt me. I was sure of that. But being on the prey side felt mildly terrifying. And yet I was trying so very hard not to giggle and give myself away.
A faint click echoed from my right, putting him much closer to me than I thought. My own training kicked in and I lowered myself to the ground, slinking to the left of the pallet and peering through the slits in the wood. I barely caught his boot passing the pallet on the other side of mine.
I was quick, rounding the pallet the same time he reached it. We went in circles. By the third one, I was sure he knew I was here. Especially as his pace quickened to catch me.
Thinking fast, I scaled the pallet silently, tucking myself on top of a box that was just a few inches taller than him. He slipped right past me and stopped—confused.
It was amusing to see him genuinely stumped for a few seconds. He dropped to the ground to look between the slits in the pallet. When he popped back up and turned around quickly, as though he expected me to be standing right behind him, I finally cracked and giggled.
The moment I did, I knew I was caught. He whipped around quickly, looking up at me just as I ambushed him. I grabbed his arm, throwing all of my weight into shoving him forward while pulling his hand behind his back.
He stumbled forward, grunting as I pinned his wrist to his spine. "Sneak attack? Really?"
I shrugged. "You're bigger than me, stealth is my only advantage."
"Hm."
He stepped back into me and I tried to regain the distance, but he caught me behind the ankle with his foot. I lost my footing immediately and toppled backward, losing my hold on his arm.
Before I could go down, he snatched my elbow and pushed me sideways—trapping me between him and the pallet of boxes. I panted breathlessly at the speed, staring directly into his grinning face.
"You lose." He said flatly.
He had me pinned, light enough that I could have gotten away if I tried hard enough. Instead, I pushed onto the tips of my toes, drew close to his face—and kissed the tip of his nose.
It disarmed him immediately, a stunned look on his face. Snickering, I shoved my other arm into the space beneath his ribcage and forced him sideways. The air left his lungs as I shoved him against the pallet this time.
His voice came hoarse and out of breath. "You cheated."
A sly little smile curved my lips as I drew closer to him. "Don't be so easily distracted."
His gaze flickered to my lips briefly before returning to my eyes. "I'm not distracted."
"Is that right?" I murmured, drawing a step closer—until the space between us was nonexistent. His breath hitched and he stilled as I slid my hand up his arm.
His bicep flexed under the tip of my index finger, but when I anchored myself to his shoulder, he relaxed under my hand.
He stood too tall for me to reach at my own height. I needed to stand on my toes again just to get to his face. He drew in a sharp breath the moment my cheek grazed his. When his pinned hand writhed in my grip, I released him, bracing my hand against his chest.
The moment he was free, his hand slid up my back, holding me against him like someone might take me away.
With all of my tenderness, I brushed a kiss beside his ear. Another to his jaw. A third to the corner of his lips.
A long breath escaped him and he turned his face into mine, gently nudging my cheek with his nose. Something about the gesture felt sad.
My fingers slipped into the hair at the back of his neck, thumb tracing his skin. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He laughed lightly. "Sweetheart?" His other hand gently cradled my face. "You're stealing my nicknames now?"
"We can't both be sweet of heart?" I challenged.
His smile grew and he shook his head. "You think you're funny."
"I am funny."
Carefully, he pulled my face into his, lips brushing mine as he spoke.
"Debatable." He whispered.
Our lips met at that. He kissed me sweetly at first. Soft and testing. And then he gathered me against him and kissed me with more heat. Hungry and desperate for more.
The kiss ended abruptly and his breath broke as he retreated. "You're going away." He reminded me, his voice wavering.
"Not yet." I panted, clinging to him.
He nudged my face with his own once more. "I'm going away."
"Not yet." My voice came shrill, his words making my chest ache.
His lips parted, like he almost said something. There was a pleading look in his eye and I couldn't begin to guess whatever it was he was about to ask me.
But he faltered, his thumb brushing my bottom lip.
"Guess it wasn't as miserable being stuck with me as we thought." I mumbled, a sad smile lifting the corner of my lips.
A breathy laugh escaped him. "It's easy to be around you."
Snickering, I tilted my head back and gave him a teasing look. "You like being around me."
He blew out a breath, avoiding my gaze.
"It's okay. Feeling's mutual." I pecked a quick kiss to his cheek.
His hands tightened around my waist and he craned down, his lips grazing my skin. A gesture full of longing.
The playfulness bled out of me and I nudged his cheek, urging him to face me. He did so without argument, his breath warming my skin as he tried to steady his breathing.
So I captured his lips, unbothered by how sloppy and hurried the kiss was. My hands wandered before I could really think to stop myself—exploring every hard line of his torso. When my fingers skimmed his lower abdomen, he tensed.
I pressed my body as close to him as I could get and he exhaled into my mouth, his fingers tightening around my waist.
Suddenly, he peeled me away—but not fast enough. I'd already felt him grow hard against me. He cursed under his breath, shaking his head like he was embarrassed.
Still, he couldn't help but kiss me, like that was the one thing he wouldn't let himself refrain from. Maybe I could have had the same self control, but the only memories racing through my mind now were the images of him on top of me that night. His breathless voice in my ear. His hands exploring every inch of me.
All things I desperately wanted him to do to me now. I yanked him down into me, slipping my tongue into his mouth, tasting his own like a sinner who didn't fear hell. My foot found a box at the bottom of the pallet and I used it for leverage, straddling him with one leg.
His resolve cracked almost instantly. A calloused hand found my thigh and slipped up the skirt of my dress, fingertips digging into my flesh as he pulled me back against him—as if he weren't the one who had pushed me away in the first place.
The next thing I knew, his hands slipped beneath both of my thighs and he lifted me from the ground. I responded just as enthusiastically, wrapping my legs around his waist, breaths mingling as our tongues met again and again.
A wanting sound escaped me when he used only one arm to hold me, the other finding the center of my back—supporting me as though he were afraid I might fall from his arms.
My hips moved without thinking, grinding against the erection pressed hard against me.
He turned suddenly, driving me backward into the boxes, pinning me in the air. There was a moment where he paused, panting against my skin as his nose grazed the column of my throat. Both of his hands slid up my dress, caressing my thighs as a quiet groan rumbled within his chest.
He pressed a kiss to my throat. Two more to the underside of my jaw. Then his lips grazed my ear.
"The dress was a good choice." He whispered, voice husky.
My hands trailed down his abdomen, fumbling with his belt. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing,” I mumbled, finally loosing the belt from the buckle. “Just do it.”
A sharp breath escaped him, his hips bucking forward. “Don’t say that.”
I nipped at his skin, slipping my hand past his waistband. “Why not?”
When I grabbed him around the shaft, his fingers dug into my skin. He groaned, tilting his head forward and taking the flesh of my neck between his teeth.
He throbbed in my hand and I slowly guided my hand up the length of him. The sides of our heads found refuge against each other and I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Where’s your mind at, huh?” I quickened my pace. “What do you want to do?”
His hips rolled forward, guiding himself in my hand. “If I did what I was thinking—fuck—” he cut himself off with a moan. Then he grabbed my face, turning me to look directly at him. “It’s vulgar. Disrespectful. Crude—”
“Good.” I grinned, sweeping my thumb over the tip. His entire body shuddered and I drew closer to his lips. “So do it. I’m giving you permission.”
His lips parted, eyes nearly falling closed as I stroked him faster. “Dammit.” He groaned, head tipping back as I pleasured him.
Then he snapped into action. Without warning, he peeled me away from the pallet and carried me to a wooden crate stocked against the bulkhead. Before I could say a word, he peeled my legs from his waist and set me on the ground.
Towering over me, he pressed a heated kiss to my lips, fingers massaging the back of my head. “Turn around.” He instructed me.
My stomach twisted and I obeyed immediately. With his hand still in my hair, he pushed me down, folding me over the edge of the crate. My breath quickened, heart hammering against my ribs.
He pulled my hair, guiding my head until I was looking at him over my shoulder. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, his other hand pushing my dress up to my waist.
I had never been so desperate and embarrassed at the same time. My thighs squeezed together, anticipation building between my legs.
He hooked a finger through the narrow band of my panties and slowly tugged them down. The moment I was exposed, his breath caught, eyes washing over me.
Heat crawled up my neck and I writhed in his hand, trying to hide my face, but he held me still. A calloused hand swept over my bare skin, sending goosebumps up my spine.
He folded himself over me, gently tugging my head up until his lips met my ear. “Do I still have your permission?”
I nodded, shivering breaths tumbling from my mouth.
He shook his head, pressing a kiss to my temple. “No, sweetheart, I need to hear you say it.”
I liked him like this. Confident and domineering. The shift in his exterior left me weak in the knees.
“Yes.” I panted, arching my back shamelessly.
Straightening, his hand slid from my ass to between my legs. I made a small whimpering sound, pathetic and needy and so embarrassingly turned on that I couldn’t look at him.
His middle finger circled my clit and my entire body responded to the sensation. The moment he felt how wet I was, his grip tightened in my hair.
“Fuck.” He hissed under his breath, rocking his hips against me.
Then his hands abandoned me. Before I could wonder what he was doing, his belt jingled and the sound of a zipper met my ears.
“It’s pretty soundproof down here.” His deep voice echoed through the hangar. “I think it’s my lucky day.”
“Leon,” I whined softly.
Sudden pressure at my opening rendered me silent. But he didn’t push himself in. Not yet.
“I want to hear you.” His husky voice sent another chill down my spine. “If you want me to stop, I stop. If you want me to slow down, I slow down.”
A hand found the center of my back, thumb stroking my spine. “So tell me what you want me to do, Kendra.”
I ground my teeth, pushing back against his hips. “I want you to stop teasing me.”
His hips inched forward, the tip of him sliding into me with ease. “Like that?”
I writhed against the crate. “Jesus Christ, Leon, please just fuck me.”
A low, amused breath slipped out of him. “Yes, ma’am.”
Then he slid into me completely. The entire length of him. Buried inside of me, coaxing a moan from my lips. Both of his hands braced against the crate as he folded over me, his breath warming my ear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I bit my tongue just to stop myself from cursing at him. My silence only made him laugh in my ear.
He kept his pace painstakingly slow. Torturously slow. I responded by rocking my hips against him.
Both hands grabbed me by the hips, holding me still. “Faster?”
“Please.” I panted.
He released me only long enough to grab me under the knee and shove one leg onto the crate. My other leg he hiked around his hip, giving himself better access.
Then he was ramming into me without mercy. Every thrust forced loud moans out of me, my voice echoing off the steel walls.
“Talk to me.” He practically begged. “Am I hurting you?”
I reached back for him, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “No—fuck—keep going. Just like that.”
Keeping an even rhythm, he lifted my hips higher and drove into me harder. My hands shot out, bracing against the crate like I might fall.
An arm slipped under my stomach, wrapping around my waist. “I’ve got you.” He promised me. “You’re safe, I got you.”
The words relaxed me immediately, I melted against the crate, finally allowing the tension in my body to dissipate.
“That’s it.” He praised me, pressing a kiss to the back of my head. “Good girl. You’re okay.”
A long sound of pleasure waned from my lips. His own sounds only spurred me on. He was breathless, a gruff grunt rumbling from his chest with every thrust. Clearly enjoying himself.
It was intoxicating. I wanted to listen to the sound of his pleasure on repeat. Wanted him to keep talking to me until I finished.
My legs shook so violently that I was glad he wasn’t letting me use them. I definitely would have collapsed.
His name fell from my lips, my fingers digging into the wood. I could practically feel him in my stomach, slamming against my walls until pain and pleasure coexisted.
Snaking his free hand around my waist, he quickly began to rub circles over my clit again. I bucked against his hand, crying out as he stimulated me in every way possible.
“Fuck, Leon,” ragged breaths tore out of me. “That’s perfect. Keeping going.”
He obeyed me, completely out of breath and exhausted, but that didn’t stop him.
I could feel the heat building in my core. My hips moved of their own volition, grinding against him as I got closer.
I cried his name, his only warning.
He hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back. “Cum with me, sweetheart.”
That was all I needed to hear. I finished so violently that my legs kicked, moaning so sharply I might as well have screamed.
Leon’s thrusts stopped as well, short gasps escaping him as he came inside me.
For a moment, neither of us moved. We simply laid there, trying to catch our breath. Then he pulled out of me and carefully peeled me away from the wood, cradling my body against his torso. My legs gave out, dangling between us, but he held me up as though I weighed nothing.
He pressed rapid kisses across my shoulder. Up my neck. To the back of my head. Tentatively, he set me back on my feet, still supporting me as he pulled my dress back down. My lower back ached from the entire ordeal and I leaned all of my weight against him.
“You okay?” He mumbled against my ear.
I nodded, lungs on fire. “Can we do that again?”
He snickered, hands sweeping over my arms. “Maybe later. We need to get back. We’ve been gone too long.”
I groaned, head rolling across his chest. “You know, I don’t think we’re as discreet as you’d like to believe. All of them have gotta know.”
With a breathy laugh, he turned me around until I was facing him. Sweat dripped down his temples and he wiped at his face. “You’re probably right.” He mumbled.
With a lopsided smirk, I pushed onto the tips of my toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. I meant for by it to be quick. He had other plans. His hand caught the back of my head and he kissed me slowly. Sweetly. Lingering as long as I would allow him.
When I finally came up for air, I fell back onto the flats of my feet. I knew he would try to go. But I wasn’t ready yet. So I leaned forward—and rested my forehead against his chest.
With a long exhale, he threaded his fingers into my hair. Neither of us said a thing. His heartbeat thrummed against my skin. I turned my cheek into it, pressing my ear to his sternum just so I could listen to it.
After a long time, his fingers traced gentle circles over my back. “Ready?” He murmured.
I nodded, forcing myself to step away. He collected his jacket and my star book. I grabbed my discarded underwear, slipping them back on and straightening my clothes.
As we headed for the door, I ran my fingers through the knots in my curls.
“How’s my hair?” I asked him.
He paused, looking me over and biting back a smile. Without saying anything, he reached out and smoothed down several areas for me. “It could be worse.” He finally answered.
I crinkled my nose and quickly tried to fix it without a mirror. “Maybe we should just go to bed.”
Smiling, he turned away and yanked the door open.
We headed upstairs, pausing on the lower deck. There was no music. No voices. No sound of a party at all.
I looked to Leon first, gauging his reaction. His brows furrowed and he stepped in front of me.
Suddenly, I was on high alert. Something was wrong. And I was unarmed.
But Leon wasn’t. He moved quickly, peering into every door we passed. Ensuring the room was clear. Hurrying to the next one.
When we reached the mess hall, he held out a hand to stop me. I obeyed the silent command, waiting several feet away as he leaned into the open doorway.
His body went still. I counted the seconds. Ten. Much longer than usual. A wary hand found the gun in his pocket. He pulled it out, but he didn’t rack it. Not yet. Instead, he stepped into the room.
I didn’t move.
What felt like minutes passed. Long, silent minutes.
Then he called for me.
My shoulders dropped and I timidly stepped into the room. “What’s wrong?” I whispered, but I caught sight of the scene immediately.
Everyone was asleep. Not dead. Their chests rose and fell evenly, some of them twitching in their sleep. And it wasn’t the entire crew. Owen and Wraith were missing—likely already in bed. Same as Jill, Piers, and Lopez. Nowhere to be found. The rest of the crew? All strewn throughout the room.
I crossed my arms, the gesture anxious. “Too much alcohol?” I asked.
He looked to the snack table, eyes sweeping the mountain of unopened alcohol. He made no remark.
Instead, he came back to me, folding me under an arm and guiding me to the door. “You should go to bed. I’ll take care of this.”
I frowned, but I let him lead him out of the mess hall. We passed through the main living quarters, where Lex, Piers, Lopez, and Harper were all fast asleep. Our footsteps echoed off the hall walls as he led me to my room. Owen snored loudly on the other side of the Captain’s quarter’s door.
Had we really been gone that long?
Leon pushed my door open and I was greeted immediately by Harbor. The spaniel jumped up, his tail swinging at a mile a minute. I stroked the top of his head several times, giving him a kiss before pushing him down.
“Get in bed.” Leon instructed me. “I’m gonna wake them up. Make sure they get to their bunks.”
I nodded, taking my constellation book from his hands. He was gone a moment later.
Turning back to the room, I took three steps away from the bunk, setting the book on top of the desk.
Just before I turned away, I caught sight of something sticking half way out between the wall and the desk top. An envelope. My brow twitched and I reached for it
It was my letter. From the president. The one I had left on the front corner of the desk.
So how had it fallen behind it? Did someone touch it? Did someone read it?
I shook my head. We’re on a ship, for god’s sake. A ship that lurches and tilts and sways with the waves. It had probably slipped across the desk at some point.
But then my eyes fell on the paper cranes I had placed along the right side of the desk. And every single one of them still remained in the perfect line I had left them in.
Author's Note: Someone asked me for a map of the ship to help them picture it in their mind. Figured I'd share it with everyone since I went through the trouble of making this lol. I would like it noted that I have never been on a ship before and I made this through googling navy ships LOL. Sorry if you can't read my handwriting, I did my best, chief o7
>Chapter 40
Chapter 39:
Kendra
September 26, 2005 — Monday
The paper crinkled in my hand. Words stared up at me and I stared back, unseeing, the print nothing more than a grey blur.
Anger bubbled up inside of me. Every word replayed in my head. So impersonal. Cold. Indifferent. Nothing like Leon's letter.
They were friends. Leon mattered to him. His skill set was still something the president coveted, but the words he had chosen... they weren't the way you speak to someone who's just a soldier.
Stay safe. Gratitude. The very best. A trusted friend.
My letter? He'd called everything I went through extraordinary circumstances. The murder of my entire family, being kidnapped, hunted, tortured, experimented on. Extraordinary circumstances.
His own people contributed to those "circumstances." A failure, he said. His most sincere regret, he said.
No apology. No 'sorry that the agency I created had produced terrorists that have ruined your entire life.'
Thank you. He said. Thank you for developing that vaccine. But you still owe us more. Your body. Your autonomy. Your freedom.
Nothing I did was enough. Nothing I'm doing is enough.
I gave them evidence.
I gave them intelligence.
I gave them a virus sample.
I gave them my blood.
I gave them my bone marrow.
I sacrificed everything. I gave them everything. No matter what it had cost me. And somehow, it wasn't enough. They were asking for more. Asking what they could use me for next.
Everything that had destroyed me... reduced to clinical language. Hardships, they called it.
The brutal murder of my brother. Of my adoptive parents. Angela's sacrifice. Taking Leon. Destroying me. All of it. Just a price I have to pay. While they sacrifice nothing. While they lose nothing.
'I offer my sincere regret. Return home and fulfill your responsibilities.'
I tossed the letter on the desk and got to my feet, feeling Leon's gaze as he tracked every one of my movements. I drifted toward the window, paused, turned on my heel and went to the wardrobe. For a few seconds, I pretended to look for something. Flipping through the jackets and flicking the hangers back.
How is it that all of this always came down to what they needed from me?
USSTRATCOM needed my skills. Verissimo needed my genetics. The BSAA and the President needed my immunity. To study the regeneration. Use it to do god knows what.
Not a single one of them cared about where that left me. What it was doing to me.
I'm an object. A tool. An asset. It didn't matter if their curiosity destroyed me. They were going to take and take and take—
"You can wear this one again." Leon said behind me, bringing my thoughts to a screeching halt.
"Hm?" I stepped back, turning to see him lifting a jacket from the back of the desk chair.
"You're cold, right?" He tilted his head, gaze flicking to the wardrobe briefly. "I told you. None of your jackets are warm enough."
I let out a breath, crossing to him. He helped me slip my arms into the sleeves and then turned me around, zipping it for me as if I couldn't do it myself.
If anyone else had done that, I would have hated it. Would have stepped away and told them I'm more than capable of zipping my own damn jacket.
But I let Leon do it. When the zipper reached my throat, he carefully pulled the collar straight, sweeping my curls free from the neckline.
It was instinct—the way I tipped forward and pressed my forehead to his chest. I didn't hug him. Didn't hold onto him. All I did was simply fall against him.
His arms came up immediately, wrapping me in warmth. Wrapping me in safety.
The only one who had never asked anything of me. The only one who never took. Only gave.
He too would be stolen from me. That was why I refrained from holding onto him.
It was the universe's cruel joke on me.
You are capable of being loved. But it will never stay.
If I had known how much Leon would mean to me—if I had known how little time we would have had—I wouldn't have taken it for granted. I would have allowed myself to cherish it. To hold onto him.
I wish I'd let myself hold on.
Instead, I stepped out of his arms and moved for the door.
"I'm starving. You ready for breakfast?"
He hummed, the only thing that sounded like he might be agreeing with me, but said nothing.
The moment the door was open, Harbor bounded down the hall, barking and jumping around my feet. I greeted him with a pat on the head and carefully stepped past him, even as he followed on my heels.
We stepped into the main living quarters in time to see all the boys groggily sitting up in their bunks, sleeping bags, and hammocks. Piers stretched from the floor, his eyes especially sleepy.
"You have a rooster for a dog." He yawned.
I snickered and pointed at the stairs. "Go outside, buddy."
Harbor barked and dashed for the stairs.
Rook threw his blankets back. "Oh, he listens to you. But when I tell him to stop barking, he thinks that means bark louder."
Heavy footsteps sounded from behind me. I turned expecting Leon. Instead, Owen's giant frame filled the hallway, making me jump. I bumped into Leon, who was standing to my right, just behind me. He caught my arm, his other hand finding the center of my back. His hand rubbed my spine once, reassuring, before falling away.
The Captain smiled at me and stepped around me slowly. "Mornin', kiddo."
I nodded to him, watching as he headed for the opposite hall. "Jill has breakfast cookin'." He said just before he ducked through the hall. "You lot better get outta bed and show her some gratitude."
Wraith slipped past me next. "How'd everyone sleep through that storm?"
"There was a storm?" Bishop grumbled.
Wraith grabbed his blanket and tugged it off of him. "Wouldn't expect you to know. Bet that hangover is kicking your ass."
Bishop squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm trying not to think about it."
My gaze went to Leon, silently asking him the question I wouldn't ask aloud.
Was there a storm? I hadn't noticed one. In fact, I'd slept just fine.
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if to ask me 'you didn't notice?'
I snorted and looked away. At that moment, a hammock flipped and Avery nearly planted face first into the deck.
Stifling a laugh, I stepped forward to check on him. "Might wanna wake up before you crawl out of a hammock."
"That's what he gets for calling dibs." Piers muttered.
"Yeah, well, if the fuel delivery isn't here today, you can have the hammock tonight." Avery stretched, his back cracking.
"Why? So you can sabotage it?" Piers snorted.
"I'm sensing tension." I grabbed at the air between them, as if it were thicker.
"I say they duke it out." Bishop laughed tiredly.
"My bets on Piers." Leon smirked, crossing his arms.
Piers got to his feet and looked Avery up and down. "Kendra could fight better than him."
I lifted my hands defensively. "Woah?! Why am I getting caught in the crossfire?"
He grinned at me. "It was a compliment."
"Tch." I crossed my arms. "Hardly."
Avery flunked me on the forehead. "I'm the one being insulted, asshole."
I rubbed at my forehead. "So sorry to take the attention away from you, Princess Avery."
He pointed his finger in my face in warning. "Watch it."
"Or what? You gonna kick my ass?"
"I'd like to see him try." Leon muttered.
Jill, who had stepped into the room only moments ago, tilted her head. "You can't help her. I wanna see her kick his ass."
"I wouldn't need to." Leon deadpanned. "I already know Kendra would put him on his ass."
Avery threw his arms out. "Ain't no fucking way you're all ganging up on me."
I patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, Avery, that would never happen."
"Thank you, Kens."
"I would never hit someone weaker than me."
"That's it." Suddenly, his shoulder was in my stomach and I was being folded over his back.
I grunted, kicking and scrambling for the something to hold onto. A chorus of laughter met my ears as he spun me in a circle, dizzying me, and then roughly threw me into his hammock.
"Be careful!" Jill shouted, clearly amused. "No rough housing."
"She's fine." Leon said so clearly that I almost laughed.
Traitor.
Avery cinched the hammock closed, laughing as I flailed inside.
"Let me out!"
"But you're so strong!" He mocked me. "Come on, Kens, kick your way out."
"Avery!" I grabbed both sides and tried to wrench them open to no avail. "When I get outta here, your ass is going straight in the ocean!"
Suddenly, the Captain's voice interrupted the chaos. "Breakfast is almost ready."
A few footsteps retreated down the hall, though enough of them stayed behind to laugh at me as I continued to fight.
"Should I spin her?" Avery asked.
I kicked at him as hard as I could through the hammock, hearing a satisfying grunt as I got him in the stomach. The sound of his feet stumbling backward met my ear and fresh air poured through the now open flaps of the hammock.
I scrambled upward, poking my head into the open.
"You kicked me in the fucking lung." Avery wheezed, doubled over.
"I was aiming lower."
"There'll be no dick kickin' on my ship." Owen cut in, looking deceptively stern. "Now get her outta there and get ya asses to the kitchen."
Avery waved dismissively, holding his abdomen as he staggered away. "She can get herself out."
Leon shook his head, a small smirk on his lips, and crossed over to me, offering me a hand.
I took it, grumbling the entire time as the hammock wobbled and swayed with every one of my movements.
We were the last to get to the kitchen. Harper and Lopez stood in the doorway. Harper was the first to notice me. He immediately stepped aside, waving me forward.
"Ladies first." His tone was devoid of emotion, but the gesture was nice enough.
I half expected Harper to say something else after that. Strike up a conversation. But he was nothing but a quiet man. Lopez was the one who made a few jokes about Avery as I piled food onto my plate.
When my plate was loaded, I waited for Leon and we found our way to the mess room with everyone else.
I took a quick look around, noting that Lex was the only one missing. Seemed I wouldn't be getting my apology today.
Settling next to Avery on the sofa, I had to chew on my cheek to keep from laughing when he gave me a wary look and crossed his legs.
"Relax." I set my plate on my lap. "Retaliation will come when you least expect it."
He snorted. "Yeah, why would that ever unrelax me."
"Unrelax isn't a word, dipshit."
"You're being mean to me." He stabbed his eggs.
"I'm always mean to you."
He shook his head, shoveling a bite into his mouth and barely chewing before he swallowed. "To think I bought you a birthday present."
Bishop froze from the other side of the coffee table, his gaze snapping to me. "Birthday?"
"It was a while ago." I waved it off.
Avery quirked a brow. "It was two weeks ago."
"Sixteen days." I corrected.
"We missed your birthday?" Bishop seemed genuinely astonished by this.
"It was like a week before I met you." I nearly rolled my eyes.
"Well, what did you do? Did you celebrate?" Bishop leaned forward, curiosity written all over his face.
I looked to Avery, lowering my voice. "Thanks a lot."
He grinned back at me. "Come on, Kens, how'd you celebrate?"
"I didn't." My gaze snapped back to my plate. "Leon stopped and got me a dessert. And then we kept driving."
"Oh, that's not good enough." Bishop clicked his tongue. "We should do something."
"No." I said quickly, looking directly at him. "It's fine. Really. It's not a big deal."
Avery tapped his fork against the plate. "Kendra doesn't like being fussed over."
"And yet," I turned to give him a death glare. "You bought me a present anyway."
He made a disapproving sound, forking another bite. "It's nothing extravagant."
"What is it?" Bishop asked excitedly, though he winced, holding his head at his own sudden movement.
"I'm not gonna spoil it." He practically inhaled the last of his eggs.
Wraith walked past, dropping a bottle of Tylenol on the table in front of Bishop. "Here, sweet pea, take this."
"I don't need it." He whined.
"You don't look tough, you look stupid." She pushed it closer. "It'll get rid of that headache, dumbass."
"I know how Tylenol works." He grumbled.
Wraith straightened and headed for the other side of the room, but not before she lightly smacked the back of his head.
"Ow! That hurt!" He glared at her.
She shrugged. "Wouldn't have hurt if you'd taken the Tylenol when you woke up like I told you."
Bishop snatched the bottle, muttering something under his breath.
Beside me, Leon made a sound. Almost like a laugh. Reminding me he was still there. He always got quieter when we were in a group. Like he wasn't sure how to participate.
I turned to him, trying to pull him into the conversation. "Don't approve of Bishop's hangover methods?"
The corner of his lip twitched. "It's entertaining." He paused, seeming to consider something, then tilted his head. "Why are you dodging the birthday conversation?"
My smile dropped and I gave him a warning look. "Not you too."
He lifted his hand in surrender. "Just a question."
"What?" Bishop interjected. "You have trauma with birthdays or something?"
"No." I rolled my eyes. "Birthdays have just never been a big deal. Don't see the point of starting now."
"Well thats just all the more reason to make a big deal. You're telling me you never had a sweet sixteen? The big twenty-one?"
I shrugged casually. "I've never been a big drinker."
"That's just sad." He shook his head with disappointment.
"I'm sure someone else's birthday is closer anyway. Mine already passed. When's your birthday?" I turned to Leon.
He shook his head. "July thirty-first. Sorry, can't use me as a distraction."
I huffed, turning to look at Bishop. "What about you?"
"January thirtieth." He beamed.
Avery swallowed the last of his food. "You know I'm an April baby."
"What about Rook?" I asked Bishop.
"December."
"That's close enough to September." I argued.
"That's three months away." Avery countered. "If we use the law of rounding, your birthday is closer."
"What is this, fucking algebra?" I muttered, stabbing a sausage.
He chuckled, setting his plate on the table. "It's fine. If you don't want a fuss—you don't want a fuss. No one's gonna force you to have a nice birthday party."
"Good." I chewed my food thoroughly before swallowing.
"But if there was just a random celebration, with random drinks and snacks and music, well, that's just a coincidence." Avery smirked.
I raised a brow.
Bishop grinned, leaning forward. "With random party games and spontaneous dancing. Definitely just a coincidence."
"As long as there's no cake and no birthday song, then it hardly has anything to do with me, does it?" I cut through my sausage with the fork, hiding my smile.
"Pfft." Avery waved theatrically. "No. No, never. That would make it a very specific party. Which it absolutely is not. Right, Bishop?"
"Right."
From a few feet away, Rook shook his head. "Oh, you two need to be separated. Right now."
I saw an opportunity to deflect and I took it. With a teasing look, I pointed my fork in Rook's direction. "Someone's jealous Bishop is making other friends."
Rook gave me a deadpan look that made me snicker. "Bishop is always making friends." He gestured to me. "Look at you. He practically adopted you."
Bishop rested his elbow on the table. "What's wrong, Rookie? You want my attention?"
"Don't call me that." He threw a piece of potato at his head. It bounced off his brow and Bishop chuckled.
As they began to, successfully, bicker back and forth, Leon leaned closer, patting my knee once to get my attention. He was a lot closer than I expected because when I turned to face him, our foreheads nearly collided.
"I'll be right back." He said the words quickly and was on his feet before I could respond.
When he headed for the hall, I was tempted to follow him, but Avery called to me before I could. I was lost to conversation before I could question where he was going.
By the time everyone finished breakfast, the storm had kicked back up. Piers watched the downfall through the porthole. Every once in a while, he'd press his finger to his earpiece and say something I couldn't hear from across the room.
Finally, the lieutenant turned his gaze toward Avery. He straightened beside me, at attention immediately.
"The fuel delivery is a day out." Piers relayed. "Storm is delaying them."
"So, we're staying another night?"
Piers nodded. "As long as it doesn't get worse, they should be here by tomorrow morning."
Avery nodded, turning to look to Lopez—the flight engineer. "We should do a quick safety check."
Lopez snorted. "Think the storm got to the helicopter all the way down in the hangar?"
"I think," Avery got to his feet, "that it's better safe than sorry."
"You treat that thing like a child."
Avery shoved him playfully. "I can assure you an aircraft requires more maintenance than a baby."
"Yeah, yeah," Lopez waved him toward the door. "Let's go do your safety check."
"She might need some maintenance." Avery added, ducking out of the room. His voice carried briefly from the hall. "We flew her for two days straight."
"I'm the engineer, asshole, let me worry about that." Lopez grumbled.
I collected the dishes the from the table, getting ready to carry them to the kitchen. I stopped only when I reached Leon's plate. He hadn't eaten everything yet. In fact, he said he'd be right back. But that felt like it had been a while ago. Where was he?
Owen clapped his hands together, startling me back to the present.
"We oughtta do a weather check." He looked in our direction. "Bishop, Rook—you two go secure all the loose gear topside."
"Yes, Captain," they said in unison, moving immediately.
He turned his gaze toward the far wall. "Harvey, you're on inspection. Double check the hatches."
"On it." The scrawny crew member nodded and scurried out of the room.
Owen looked toward the porthole. "Mouse, you're with me. The equipment oughtta be covered. Grab the tarps and carabiners."
Mouse got to his feet and followed the captain out of the mess hall. Piers and Harper didn't need directions. They followed on the Captain's heels like they were part of the crew too.
That left me alone in the mess hall with Jill and Wraith.
"Should we go help?" I asked, balancing the dishes in my hands.
Wraith laughed, her voice as raspy as ever. "He doesn't want you up there, sweet pea."
I frowned. "Why?"
Jill turned in her chair. "Because. Ocean storms aren't a joke. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt."
"Well, what about you guys? You're part of the crew." I argued.
"We're doing exactly what the Captain wants us to do. Staying put."
I snorted. "Why? Because we're women?"
Wraith clicked her tongue. "Careful now." She took the dishes from my hands. "Owen wouldn't be stupid enough to underestimate a woman."
Jill smiled softly. "He wants us down here with you. To keep an eye on you."
I lifted my hands defensively. "What? Like I'm some trouble maker? I've been an angel."
Jill snorted indignantly. "For the most part."
Wraith leaned a little closer, lowering her voice. "There's people on this ship we don't know. So we don't leave you alone. You understand?"
Realization dawned on me. They were wary of Piers' crew?
"Avery would never hurt me." I argued. "Neither would Piers."
Jill gave me a look like she wanted to say something. She didn't. But I knew immediately what was on the tip of her tongue.
'You thought the same about Moroe.'
My jaw tightened and I slid onto the stool beside Jill. Wraith left the mess hall with the dishes in hand.
For the first time, I was completely alone with Jill. I looked her over once, noting everything that stood out first. The gun strapped to her belt. The second gun tucked into her waist band. A jacket that leaned heavier on the right side—the pockets full with something heavy. Loaded magazines if I had to venture a guess.
If I hadn't grown to trust Jill on some basic level, I might have been intimidated. There was no wariness in my gut. No voice in the back of my head telling me to be careful. Which she might have been honored by if she knew how on edge I'd been the last few weeks.
Especially with my persistent fear of agents and law enforcement. It made me... curious about her.
"So," I started, averting my gaze. "Have you always been navy? Or is the ship a new thing for you?"
She swirled her orange juice, the pulp spinning within the glass like a small tornado. "I've never been big on the ocean."
Her honesty was surprising. And refreshing. "Afraid of water?"
The corner of her lips lifted. "I don't like staying in one place very long."
"You feel trapped." I surmised.
"Maybe." She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "We're not navy, you know. I mean, Owen's always been more comfortable on a ship. The ocean is his home. But we're still BSAA."
"I don't know much about the agency." I admitted.
"Well, that's not surprising. Chris and I founded it a year ago. We're still trying to... figure things out."
I tilted my head. "Oh? What did you do before this?"
"I was STARS. During Raccoon City." She sighed, setting her glass down. "After that, I became a private operative for a while. I did odd jobs here and there. Anything that meant I could help with all the shit shows that have popped up since Umbrella started their bullshit."
I laughed, shaking my head.
"What?" She raised a brow.
"Nothing. Just you. Being a private operative. It's kinda ironic."
"How is that ironic?"
I held out my hands, as if to signal to myself. "Well, that's what I am." Pausing, I dropped my hand and drummed my fingers against the table. "I think I remember it was my job in particular that made you suspicious of me a week ago."
Jill smiled softly. "Yeah, well, you weren't an agent. You were a spy. And considering you worked for a private sector, I couldn't rule out the possibility of mercenary either."
"Fair enough." My hand settled and I looked to the door. Expecting someone to come back eventually.
The orange juice sloshed as the ship swayed from a sudden violent wave. My fingers tightened around the table edge, like it might stop me from falling over.
Jill watched me closely. "So, what got you into the field?"
I exhaled, long and heavy, and turned until my spine was pressed into the table. The stool creaked beneath my weight. "I kinda just... ended up here."
She rested her forearms on top of the table, relaxing a bit more. "How the hell does that happen?"
I rolled my ankle absently, the joint cracking from the motion. "I was a dancer. A lifetime ago." A bittersweet smile found my face. "I was a good dancer. I competed. My room was full of trophies and ribbons. It was all I wanted to do."
Jill hummed. There was no judgment to it. She was listening. Absorbing the information like it actually made sense. I knew it didn't. Not yet.
"It wasn't just dance." I continued. "I was in gymnastics and calisthenics. I was good at that too, but... god, I loved dance. That's what my body was made for. That's where I belonged."
She turned her gaze down to her drink, refusing to look at me now.
I leaned my head back, my hair falling over the table top. "But I tore my ACL." My eyes stayed fixed to the ceiling. "I did a lot of physical therapy. But my career in dance was over."
I chewed on the inside of the my cheek, pretending I wasn't sad over this. Given everything I'd been through, a career ending injury seven years ago shouldn't have stung. It shouldn't still affect me. There were worse things. Awful things.
My head fell to the side and I caught Jill's gaze. "That's when I met Angela. We were both doing physical therapy together. In this small group at the facility. She had been injured on a mission. I didn't know that at the time. But we talked. We got close. And when she found out that I couldn't go back to what I was doing before, she offered me an opportunity. Said that my skills with gymnastics and all that would be useful for what she does. Which is funny in hindsight."
I paused, laughing to myself.
Jill smiled too. "You can't be serious? What was the thought process? 'Oh wow, you're really good at backflips, you'd be an excellent spy.'"
That made me laugh harder and I shook my head. "Sounds stupid when you put it like that."
She clicked her tongue. "Yeah, well, I think I can kinda understand it too. She seemed like she was sending you on some physically demanding missions. I mean, squeezing through an air vent? Pretty crazy."
"What can I say?" I pretended to brag. "I'm just so skilled."
"You are." She agreed immediately. "I mean, I was never a dancer or some elite athlete, but, I know those things require certain qualities. Discipline. Agility. Flexibility. Coordination. Dedication."
I hummed. "Yeah. Sure." I dropped my head back down, staring at my hands. "Angela said she liked training me. Said I was easy to train. Goal oriented. Eager." I traced my thumb over a knuckle. "I think I was just... trying desperately to belong somewhere else. I wanted to impress her. I wanted to be good."
A humorless laugh escaped me. "Dance was gone. Everyone else seemed to know who they were supposed to be. I didn't." I shrugged. "So when Angela handed me a direction to run in... I ran."
"You ran." She nodded. "Until you... kinda just ended up here."
An amused smirk found my face. "And the worst part? I never liked it. I hated it. I mean, I felt like I was doing something important. Something that might make a difference. But... it also felt like... a part of my soul just—just died." I shrugged, staving off the emotion that tightened my throat.
"There's still time." Jill said suddenly. "To do something else."
"There's not." I rubbed at the center of my palm. "And I could blame everyone else. It would be easy to. But when it comes down to it... I made my decision. I did that. Not my uncle. Not my parents. Not the government. I ended up here because of my own choices."
She looked to the porthole, watching as the rain hammered against the glass. "I think you're acting like your life is already over. Sure, those lab coats want to study you. But no one can keep you locked up. Not forever. They'll get their answers. A new virus will break out. You won't be immune to that one. And everyone will focus on something else. They always do."
"Lots of assumptions there."
She met my gaze. "I've been doing this a long time. I know the pattern."
I didn't have a response to that. Brief silence settled between us.
Jill turned on her stool, resting her weight on her elbow. "I'm sure you were a beautiful dancer, Kendra."
I sighed, smiling softly.
"I was."
She traced the rim of her glass with her finger. "Maybe you can't compete anymore. But... I don't think you have to leave it behind entirely either."
"What? Like, be a teacher?" I laughed incredulously.
She shrugged. "Why not? The world needs art. This can't be all there is."
My brow twitched. Suddenly, I felt like I understood Jill just a little more.
"You think they'll let me?"
"The BSAA?" She cocked her head.
She didn't know about Graham's letter. I wasn't going to tell her. Not yet.
"I mean, you really think after all of this, that I could just... go back to a normal life? Like they won't want more from me?"
She looked down at her hands, clasping her fingers and rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. "You've given them more than enough."
The ship tilted again. This time, I didn't scramble for something to hold onto. The two of us swayed with the motion.
There wasn't anything to say to that. Only the waves crashing against the hull dulled the ringing silence between us.
Maybe it was better I didn't speak. Didn't argue.
I let myself sit with that.
~ ~ ~
Leon
The sound of my own footsteps echoed down the empty hallway. Distant chatter trailed through the lower deck from the mess hall behind me.
He was down here somewhere. When we'd all been in the main living quarters, he was the only one not to be found. If I had to venture a guess—
I pushed the infirmary door open.
Bingo.
Lex stood behind the sink tucked near the back wall. He looked up at the sound of the door, pressing his hand into the page of the textbook he was reading.
A sigh scraped out of him. "Come to punch me?"
Calmly, I sauntered further into the room, rounding a chair. "I thought about it." I lowered myself into the seat, folding my arms across my chest. "That's not why I'm here."
His gaze flicked to the door, as if he expected someone else to walk in. A moment later, he shut the textbook and shelved it. "Kendra's not with you?"
"She's with the crew. Seems to be enjoying her morning."
"That's good." He nodded, leaning back against the bulkhead. "Probably helps she doesn't have a killer hangover."
"She's smart like that." I quipped. It wasn't a direct attack on him. But the implication was enough to make him look at me.
"What's up, Leon." Any friendliness that might have been present was absent now.
"We need to talk. About last night."
He crossed his arms. "Figured as much." Pushing off the wall, he rounded the sink and took a few steps closer to me. "Kendra can't fight her own battles?"
I leaned forward. "You're not talking right now. I am."
His jaw tightened, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
With an exhale, I shook my head. "Look, I get it. You lost people. You don't know what to do with that. Everyone here knows what that feels like."
He rolled his eyes, looking away from me.
I pressed my index finger into the counter in front of me. "But you don't get to lash out at her just because you're hurting."
"It was a drunken ramble." He argued.
"It was shitty."
His eyes found the ground, head shaking. "Yeah. It was. But I'm not gonna apologize to you. What happened last night doesn't have anything to do with you."
"I'm here because I need you to understand something."
"What? The next time I hurt her feelings, you're gonna teach me a lesson?"
"Stop being a dick." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know you and I aren't friends. And trust me when I say I have no desire to kindle some sort of a relationship with you. I'm fine with hating each other. In fact, I prefer it."
I leaned back in the chair. "But trading blows with you won't solve anything. Sooner or later, I won't be around anymore. And this crew will be the only line of defense Kendra will have."
"Defense against what?"
"She's in the custody of a foreign agency. In a foreign country. She's going to be outnumbered and scared." I let out a breath. "You guys are all she has. She doesn't have a family. She doesn't have anyone in her corner. She's alone. And she doesn't have to be."
Lex turned away from me, scrubbing a hand over the short strands of his hair. "I didn't mean what I said. I was just drunk. It came out wrong."
"Then tell her that." I shrugged. "And don't let it happen again. Kendra is one of you now. Maybe you didn't mean it, but she doesn't dismiss shit like that. She's a sponge. You throw something at her and it sticks. She carries a lot of guilt. She doesn't need to carry yours too."
That seemed to strike a chord. He swiveled on his heel, glaring at me. "Mine? What happened to Junie wasn't my fault."
"Who are you trying to convince? Me? Or you?" I gestured vaguely to the space around us. "Everyone here already knows that you didn't kill your friends."
His brow twitched. Loosing a breath, he smoothed the wires of his mustache down and looked away from me. "I don't get it. You want me and Kendra to be best buddies now? Last I heard, you said you had no plans of leaving her."
This time, I looked away. "Yeah, well, plans change."
He scoffed. "Really? You're really going to leave her behind? Since when did you trust us to protect her?"
"I don't. I don't even trust that I can keep her safe." I shook my head, clamping my mouth shut. My guilt about losing her two weeks ago wasn't something I needed to share with Lex of all people.
"Look, my mission ends once we reach shore. That's an official order from the president. Kendra understands that. She knows I have to leave."
"And she's fine with it?" He didn't sound convinced.
"We both knew we would have to go our separate ways eventually. She's not naive."
"That's not what I asked."
"I can't tell you what Kendra is thinking." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "However we feel about the situation doesn't matter. It is what it is. We can't change it."
He tilted his head at me. For a moment, all he did was look me up and down. Then his eyes narrowed.
"What did Kendra's letter say?"
I scoffed, shaking my head. "Nothing."
"Bullshit. Your president wanted that letter delivered to her. What did it say?"
"That doesn't concern you."
He crossed his arms. "He asked her to go back. Didn't he?"
My jaw tightened so hard it hurt. "Doesn't matter. She's not going."
"She said no?"
I sighed, getting to my feet and pacing to the opposite wall. "She can't go back."
"Is that her decision? Or yours?"
I spun on my heel. "She can't go back." I pressed harder this time. "I don't know what the BSAA will do to her. But I do know what my people will do. And I won't let it happen again."
Lex was quiet for a moment.
"And if the BSAA does the same? Do you really think they'd be any better?"
"I don't know." I answered honestly. "But I have faith in Chris. And I have faith in this crew. And even though you've been nothing but a fucking dick to her, even you refused to do those tests. Because you didn't want to hurt her. That already puts you one step ahead of strategic command."
"Low bar." Lex muttered.
I ignored him. "If there was another option, I'd take it. But right now, my options are limited. My agency will hurt her. Your agency might not. So she goes with you."
He looked to the door. "You really think if she went with you that you wouldn't be able to protect her?"
"I don't think. I know. She'll be taken into custody. I'll never see her again."
He studied me, the stress in his face fading for the first time since I walked through the door.
"You have feelings for her."
I rolled my eyes, waving it off with a flippant hand. "Lex."
He stepped closer to me. "She won't stay with us. She's going to choose you."
I shook my head, grinding my teeth. For a moment, nothing but silence passed between us. Then I went to the door. "Apologize to her. She's one of you now. Whether you like it or not."
Before he could say another word, I shoved the door open and slipped into the hall.
I barely made it a few feet down the hall when the mess room door opened. Avery and Lopez stepped out, bickering about something. We shouldered past one another and I only got a few more paces before Avery's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Hey, Leon."
I paused and turned, raising a brow.
Avery looked to Lopez. "I'll be down in a sec."
Lopez shrugged and continued down the hall.
Crossing my arms, I waited for Avery to double back. The pilot stopped a few feet short of me. "I wanted to ask you something."
"She doesn't want a birthday party." I said immediately, already knowing where this was going.
He put his hands up. "Not a birthday party. Just a... little get together."
I let out an amused breath. "What do you want?"
"I know Kendra said no birthday cake—"
"She doesn't like cake." I cut him off.
His lips formed a stunned little "oh" shape. "She doesn't?"
"No."
A crooked smile found his face. "What does she like?"
I shook my head. "She said she doesn't want a fuss."
"Come on, man, it's not a fuss. Plus, if there's no cake, then it hardly counts as a birthday thing, right?"
Heaving a sigh, I raked my fingers through my hair. "I doubt we even have the ingredients to make it."
"What is it?" He tilted his head.
The infirmary door opened behind him and Lex stepped into the hall.
I leaned against the bulkhead. "Cheesecake. The kind with fruit on top."
"Fruit?"
"Cherries are her favorite."
Lex locked eyes with me over Avery's shoulder, but said nothing. Avery, on the other hand, hummed, searching my face for a few seconds.
"How long did you say you knew each other?"
"I didn't."
"Eight weeks." Lex responded.
Avery smirked. "Interesting."
I rolled my eyes. "Look, you asked what she likes. I gave you an answer. Don't make this into something it's not."
Lex shifted behind him. "There's still some dairy products from our last food delivery in stock. We can probably fix up a cheesecake from scratch."
Avery made a face. "Either of you know how to make a cheesecake?"
Lex frowned. "No."
They both looked at me.
"Do I look like I carry a recipe book on federal missions?"
Avery snickered and Lex sighed.
"Mouse might have a recipe somewhere." Lex muttered.
Just as he said it, the mess room door scraped open again and this time, several pairs of footsteps poured into the hall.
The entire crew shuffled past us, heading for the stairs of the upper deck. Everyone except Kendra, Jill, and Wraith. Owen brushed past me, clapping me on the shoulder.
"We could use an extra hand." Then he disappeared up the stairs.
Nodding to Avery and Lex, I followed without another word.
"This conversation isn't over!" Avery called after me.
I ignored him.
~ ~ ~
"What kind of music does she like?" Bishop asked as he furiously whisked the metal bowl of soon-to-be cheesecake filling.
Everyone in the kitchen turned to look at me.
"How am I supposed to know?"
I did know. But only because I had danced with her on more than one occasion and had to watch an entire performance in the car when one of her favorite songs played on the radio. None of that was information I was willing to divulge.
Mouse continued to crush graham crackers into crumbs. "Miss Kendra won't want us to only play songs she likes."
Owen nodded from the other side of the counter, arms folded over his chest. "I'm not much of a musician, if I'm honest. I only know a few songs."
Avery stared at Mouse's recipe like it was a math equation. "You play the guitar, right?"
Owen nodded. "Aye."
The pilot shrugged. "I play a bit myself. I know a few songs she likes."
Rook snorted. "The Captain doesn't let anyone touch his guitar."
Avery smirked, looking over the book to meet Owen's eye. "Is that right?"
Owen lifted his shoulders casually. "Jenny's fragile."
"You named your guitar Jenny?"
"After my daughter." He nodded.
"That must get confusing." Avery set the recipe book down. "Do you ever play Jenny for Jenny?" The corner of his lip twitched, clearly amused with himself.
Owen cleared his throat. "Uh, no. She passed away."
He sobered immediately. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
The Captain shrugged. "S'alright. It was a long time ago." Still, his demeanor changed.
"There's gonna be more than just alcohol, right?" I changed the subject, pretending I hadn't overheard. "A lot of us don't drink."
Rook tugged the pantry door open. "We're all out of soda. You're gonna have to be okay with juice."
"What kind of juice?" Piers asked.
"Apple, cranberry, orange, and grape."
"Real grape juice or artificial?" Bishop asked.
"Does it matter?" Rook rolled his eyes.
"Yes. Artificial doesn't taste like grape. It tastes like purple."
"The fuck does purple taste like?"
"Like fake ass grapes." Bishop whisked faster.
"You're gonna ruin the eggs." Mouse frowned.
"No one's forcing you to drink the grape juice." Rook sighed.
"No, I agree with him." Piers interjected. "Real grape is definitely better."
Exasperated with the conversation, I moved to the other side of the kitchen, settling beside Avery. He looked over at me, smiling.
"You got Kendra a present?" Maybe it was a nosy question, but it kept me from having to listen to the grape debate.
He nodded. "Nothing too fancy. Just a book."
"A book?"
"Trust me, she'll love it."
I didn't doubt that. Kendra wasn't the type to be ungrateful about a present simply because it wasn't pricey or flashy.
"What kind of book?"
He grinned, tucking the recipe book under his arm. "Well, on our first mission together, I was flying us back home pretty late at night. She was talking my ear off about the stars. I mean, she wouldn't shut up, she just kept pointing out different ones and telling me about them."
I was deeply familiar with Kendra's fascination with the stars. She'd done the same to me once. Even asked me to pull over on our roadtrip across country just so she could point out the constellations and tell me about them. It was a fond memory. One that I kept to myself.
"Anyway," Avery continued. "She said her adoptive parents had this constellation book. But I guess it vanished when they were moving houses and she never saw it again. She was telling me all about it." He paused, his grin widening. "I found one. At a yard sale. It glows in the dark like she said hers did when she was younger. I think it's the same book."
A small smile betrayed me. I knew exactly what book he was talking about. Kendra had briefly mentioned it to me too.
"You think she'll like it?" Avery asked.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. My fingers found my key ring immediately, thumb tracing the penguin keychain she'd bought for me at the aquarium.
"She'll love it." I murmured.
~ ~ ~
Kendra
Piers and I sat alone in the main living quarters. He watched from the bunk as I wrestled Harbor on the ground, quietly entertained by us both.
Everyone else was gone. Including Leon. I'd hardly seen him today. After reading his letter, I could guess why. He was distancing himself. Which was probably for the better. Once we reached the U.K., we would have to say goodbye.
I didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to linger in it. So I wrestled the dog on the floor of the ship.
Piers snorted as I put Harbor in a fake chokehold, demanding he tap out.
"Not a fair fight. He doesn't even have thumbs."
I released him and ruffled his fur. "Don't put him down. He's capable of anything he puts his mind to. Isn't that right, buddy?"
Harbor barked and scrambled up, jumping on top of me and licking my cheek.
"Hey! Gross!" I tried to back away and only fell onto my back.
Two paws dug into my stomach, punching the air out of my lungs. "Ow!"
Again, Piers laughed. This time, he reached forward and pulled Harbor off of me. "I guess you're right. I think he won that round."
I wheezed, turning onto my side.
He held Harbor back, petting him and silently watching me as I collected myself. When I was finally able to breathe again, I dragged myself to my feet and dropped down into the hammock across from him.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he let Harbor go and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Have you read the letter yet?"
My smile vanished immediately. Of course Piers would know what those letters had said. The real question was... did Piers simply deliver the letters? Or was he here to influence my decision?
"I did." I answered shortly.
He nodded. "Have you decided what you're gonna do?"
I sighed, giving a loose shrug. "Not really."
His eyes went to the hall, as if he were expecting someone to walk in. Then he straightened. "You don't have to decide yet."
I flopped into the hammock, avoiding his eyes. "Why are you asking? Trying to fly me back with you?"
He huffed through his nose. "No. If you wanted to go back with us, you could. But that's not why I'm here."
"And why are you here?"
"My only job was to make sure you got the president's message."
I swung my legs back and forth over the edge of the hammock. "How old are you?"
"What?" He sounded genuinely confused.
"How old are you?"
"...Nineteen."
I hummed. "Pretty young for a lieutenant."
He let out a breath. "I enlisted when I was seventeen."
Lifting my head, I pinned him with my gaze. "Do you know what happens to people like me?"
He tilted his head. "People like you?"
I gave him a flat look. "You know what I mean. Medical anomalies. People the government has an interest in keeping."
He averted his gaze. "I'm usually deployed. I don't spend a lot of time around civilians. No matter how important they are."
I sat up, watching him closer. "That's not what I asked."
Piers shifted, cracking his knuckles absently. "I know enough."
That almost made me laugh. "What does that mean?"
Slowly, his grey eyes found me again. "Do you honestly think it will be any different at the BSAA?"
My jaw snapped shut and I ground my teeth. I picked at a loose thread in my sleeve. "Can I ask you something?"
He lifted his hands, as if to indicate to the empty room.
"If I go back, do you think I'd be a civilian?"
An amused breath left him. "What else? You think you'd be an agent?"
"Or cattle." I shrugged. "Well, in this case, more like a rat. You know. Something to poke and prod. Not someone who really gets to say no."
The amusement faded. "I'd like to think you still have a choice."
"But you don't think that?"
He sighed. "It would be a big sacrifice. I know the President only wants to do what's best for our citizens. I don't always agree with their methods or their logic. But it's not without reason."
I lowered my voice, afraid someone else might hear. "I already made my sacrifice. Every night, I dream about what they did to me. When is it going to be enough?"
His jaw tightened. "I'm not the one asking you to do anything, Kendra."
"No. You're just the one delivering the message."
"I'm not your enemy." He refused to look away now. "Whatever you decide to do? I'll have your back."
I hummed. "You're not gonna convince me it's my responsibility to serve my country?"
"That's not my judgment to make."
"What if it was? Do you think I owe my country this?"
Another frustrated breath. "You don't know when to quit, do you?"
I smiled. "No."
He shook his head. "Look, you're looking for answers I can't give you. This isn't a decision you can make by collecting enough data or opinions."
"That's not—"
"It is. Whatever choice you make is one you'll have to live with. What does it matter what I think? What the president thinks?"
"It kind of matters a lot what he thinks." I muttered.
"Only if you let it." He leaned forward. "I respect the Commander in Chief. And I will always love and defend my country. But they aren't the ones living with the consequences. You are."
A defeated sigh scraped out of me. As frustrated as I was with his answer, he was right. Which only irritated me more. Maybe part of me wished someone would tell me what to do. To me it felt like both decisions were the same thing. One entailed a foreign government, and the other entailed my own. Perhaps that should have made the decision easy. But my people had failed me. Over and over and over again. Could I really put my trust in them now?
"Kendra?" A feminine voice cut through my thoughts.
I perked up, turning toward the sound. Wraith was calling me from another room. Not from the mess hall, but from the officer's quarters.
"Yeah?"
"Can you come here?"
I looked to Piers. He gave me a thin smile and jerked his head toward the mess hall. "I'm gonna go make myself useful somewhere."
"Okay." I nodded, slipping off the hammock.
Giving me a short goodbye, we went our separate ways, disappearing down opposite halls. I made my way to the three doors at the end of the small hallway and turned right instead of left, pausing at the door that was slightly ajar. Timidly, I knocked three times.
"Wraith?"
"You can come in."
I pushed the door open, taking only a single step into the room. I'd only been in here once, when she had offered me some of her own herbal tea. Even then, I stayed where I was now, refusing to venture any further. It felt weird to be in someone else's room.
Wraith was at her wardrobe, flicking through hangers. She tossed a look over her shoulder, smiling at me.
"I could use your opinion." She said simply, pulling two different articles from the wardrobe. "Which one should I wear?"
Alarm bells went off in my head. "You're... dressing up?" That was weird. No one here dressed up. They were agents. Soldiers. I was surprised Wraith would even have anything nicer than a uniform in her inventory.
"No, we're dressing up."
I raised a brow. "Why?"
"Because I wanted to. And Jill won't wear a dress. So I'm making you wear one with me."
I gave her a deadpan stare. "Why?"
"Why not?"
I crossed my arms. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the birthday party that Avery is definitely not planning, would it?"
"Not a birthday party. It's just a... hang out."
"Right," I bit back a smile. "So, if it's not a birthday party, why do you want me to dress up?"
"Because I am and I refuse to do it alone. Come on, be a girl and wear a dress."
Wraith was definitely not the type of woman who needed emotional support or community confidence in order to do something. She was probably the one person here I could confidently say didn't care at all what anyone might think of her. But she was clearly trying to swindle me into this. And I didn't have the heart to fight her on it.
With a sigh, I turned back toward the hall. "The black one's cute. But the purple one's cuter."
"Is that a yes?" A sly little smile curved her lips.
I waved her off. "I'll be your emotional support, Wraith, don't worry." Then I stepped back into the hall.
"Thank you!" Her raspy voice called after me.
"Yeah yeah, whatever." I feigned annoyance.
Truthfully, I didn't mind that she was trying to get me to look nice for the not-birthday party. I just didn't want the attention primarily on me. This was one way of ensuring that.
And I wouldn't admit it, but I liked wearing dresses sometimes. It reminded me of my dance days. Sure, I couldn't compete anymore. But I think Jill was right. I didn't have to let go of it altogether.
I laughed to myself, shutting the bedroom door. Maybe all of them were right in their own way.
Summary: 9,448 words // angst, heavy angst, hurt/comfort
Author's Note: So, apparently President Graham doesn’t have a first name stated in canon… so I made one up :) If Capcom ever gives him a first name, imma have to edit this fic. For now, this fool’s name is Theodore lmfao.
>Chapter 39
Chapter 38:
Kendra
September 25, 2005 — Sunday
The helicopter rotors were deafening, sending a torrent of cold ocean air spiraling in all directions. The landing pad was lit with nothing but the floodlight and the helicopter's landing lights.
The four of us—Owen, Jill, Leon, and I—waited patiently at a safe distance for the soldiers to unload. Even in the darkness, I could recognize Piers' side profile. He sat nearest the open door, blocking most of my view of the cabin. From what little I could see, there were only four people aboard. Piers, the pilot, and two others.
"Think we got enough hammocks?" Owen yelled to Jill over the sound of the blades beating the air.
"We got sleeping bags." She grinned.
I wondered if there was room for four more bodies in the main living quarters.
The blades slowed and the engine gradually came to a humming stop. Piers stepped off first, looking out of place without a gun in his hand. For the first time, he welcomed us with a soft smile, extending his hand to Owen first.
"Captain Fields. Thank you for allowing us to land."
Owen scoffed, shaking his hand roughly. "We're practically friends."
Piers smirked. "I tried to bring as few people as possible." He looked over his shoulder and the other two men stepped onto the ship. They looked vaguely familiar. Likely the men from Myrtle Beach.
He nodded to the first one—a sandy haired man. "This is one of my operators, Mike Harper."
Harper gave us a stiff nod, but said nothing.
Piers looked to the other man, a Hispanic gentleman. "And this is my flight engineer, Jose Lopez."
Lopez grinned, extending a hand to Owen. "Pleasure."
Little by little, the deck returned to a normal volume, the helicopter finally almost completely still.
Suddenly, all three of them looked to Leon and me. Piers reached for his pocket, Velcro tearing before he pulled out two envelopes. I expected him to speak about the letters first. Instead, he smiled at us.
"Good to see you two are still alive."
"It's only been three days." Leon practically rolled his eyes.
"Two." Piers corrected.
"Case in point." Leon tried to hide his smirk and failed. His eyes flicked to the envelopes. "I'm guessing those are for us."
"You don't waste any time." He sighed, handing them over without argument. "Messages. From President Graham."
Leon looked over both briefly before handing one to me. The moment it was in my hand, I noticed the golden seal that ensured it hadn't been tampered with. The envelope itself was made from expensive paper—thick and textured. Enough to keep the letter inside safe from the elements. On the front, in perfectly cursive print, was my name.
Kendra Mason
My stomach turned. Up until now, the President of the United States had been nothing but a background player in the chaos that was my life. Pulling strings from behind closed doors. He knew of me, but he had never addressed me. And now, both me and Leon had received letters from Graham that had been personally delivered by the U.S. Army.
Whatever was in this envelope couldn't be good. Nothing ever was when it came to the politics of this nightmare.
I peeked over at Leon, gauging his reaction to his own envelope. He had stiffened, eyes staring down at it like it might turn into something that would bite. A muscle in his jaw tightened.
"You should read those tomorrow." Piers said gently. "Seems like you guys are having a nice night," his eyes went to the fire pit, "business can resume in the morning."
There was no doubt in my mind that Piers knew exactly what was in the letters.
"That's actually not the only reason we're here." He continued. "We had someone reach out to us recently. He says he knows you. Asked if he could come along. I had to pull some strings, but eventually, Graham agreed."
Leon bristled, stepping a bit closer to me.
"Don't worry." Piers didn't look at Leon when he said it. He looked at me. "I personally cleared him." A pause. "And he's unarmed."
Movement from the helicopter caught my attention. My gaze snapped back to the door, ice spreading down my spine. There were very few people I cared about that were still alive. And far too many people that were actively hunting me.
I didn't know what to expect. Was it someone that would drag me back to the states? Someone with orders? Questions? Information? Those were the only reasons I could imagine for someone to use the army to chase me across the Atlantic.
The pilot stepped into the floodlight, removing his flight helmet.
Dark skin. Coily hair.
For a second, my mind refused to make sense of what I was seeing. Because this wasn't possible. He was supposed to exist somewhere far away. In another country. In another chapter of my life.
Not here. Not after everything.
He grinned, tucking his helmet under his arm. "Hey, Kens."
My heart stuttered.
"Avery." I breathed his name. The letter slipped from my fingers, forgotten as I stumbled forward.
Avery opened his arms wide. "God damn, it's so good to see you."
Something inside me cracked open. I laughed. A real laugh. Bright and startled and unfamiliar to my own ears.
I barely remembered crossing the deck. One second I was standing beside Leon. The next, I was throwing myself into Avery's arms with enough force to nearly knock us both backward.
"Oh my God, Avery." His name fell from my lips in a laugh.
He swallowed me in a hug, lifting me from the ground and spinning me once. His own laugh rumbled against my ear.
When he set me down, I didn't let go. My fingers tightened in the fabric of his jacket. And suddenly, I couldn't breathe. The laughter vanished. Something deep inside me gave way all at once.
I folded against him, sobs tearing out of me so violently my knees buckled. He caught me before I hit the deck.
"Hey, hey." His hand smoothed over my hair. "I got you. You're okay. I got you."
I buried my face in the crook of his neck. "Angela's gone." The words shattered coming out of me. "She died."
His arms tightened around me immediately. "I know," he whispered. "I know, Kens."
This was the first time I had cried for her. The first time I let myself grieve the loss of my friend. I could hardly understand why I was allowing myself to now. I knew everyone was watching. I knew none of them had seen me cry before. I was careful not to.
But this was Avery. My friend. The pilot who saved my life. And the last time I saw him, I had been desperately holding pressure. Keeping him alive too. I wasn't allowed to visit him. Wasn't allowed to see with my own eyes that he had survived. For months, I had lived with a brief report from Angela about his status. He was stable. He survived. That was it.
Avery knew me before Portugal. Before Moroe. Before the virus. Before I became an asset and a witness and a problem for governments to solve.
With him, I didn't have to explain who I'd lost. He already knew.
And now he was here. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't mourning alone.
He gave me another squeeze before drawing back, hands planted firmly on my shoulders. "I brought you something."
I wiped at my cheeks, sniffling as I tried to compose myself. "What is it?"
"Well, I was packing up Angela's office after her funeral." He explained, turning back toward the helicopter. Leaning through the door, he bent down and pulled a box from the floor of the aircraft. He heaved it into his arms and turned back toward me.
"I found this box with your name on it."
My brows twitched. "My name?" The words still came out watery despite how hard I tried to steady my voice.
He pressed it into my arms. "You'll want to see what's in it."
With a breath, I set it on the deck and dropped to my knees, pulling off the cardboard top and discarding it. At first, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. I had expected files. Documents. Employee reviews or anything that might have related to her being my employer.
Instead, it was filled with canvases. I reached inside, snagging the first one I could get free and turning it into the floodlight.
I didn't recognize this painting. I did, however, recognize what it was supposed to be. A frog sitting on top of a mailbox. With my childhood home in the background.
My eye found the signature—and my breath caught.
Hayden Mason.
"Why—" a knot formed in my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Why does she have this?"
Avery knelt beside me, reaching into the box and pulling a piece of paper from the side. "I found this. From his university."
I snagged it from him, skimming the letter. It was the art department. Explaining that they were trying to find Hayden's next of kin—to return his paintings from the art show to his family—but couldn't get in contact with me. They reached out to my employer, hoping to get updated contact information. I could fill in the missing pieces on my own. I knew Angela well enough to conclude that she had picked up his paintings. Likely promising that she would get them to me.
I checked the date on the letter. August 15, 2005.
That was the day that Leon had been shot. I remembered it clearly. Which corroborated their reasoning. They would have had no way to reach me. My phone was off. Laptop confiscated. At that point, I had vanished from the rest of the world. Only Leon and Ingrid knew where I was.
Angela had kept her promise anyway.
I took a deep breath, willing the tears away, and turned the painting over. Hayden's handwriting was scrawled across the back of the canvas in black sharpie.
Blythe house. Gandalf the frog. Kendra's biggest enemy.
A watery laugh bubbled out of me, fingers brushing over the handwriting. Wishing that I could feel him there. Knowing I couldn't.
That damn frog peed on me four times. And Hayden thought it was the funniest thing in the world because it never peed on him. In the mornings, we would wait for the bus at the end of the property and a frog would always be sitting under the mailbox. He swore up and down it was always the same one. Always Gandalf. Even when I tried to explain that there was no way it was always the same frog. He never believed me.
Something tightened in my chest. A brutal ache.
He had submitted this painting to his art show. The one he invited me to. He wanted me to see it. We were supposed to go together. But Delacroix took him from me before we could.
Gently, I set the painting back inside the box, fumbling for the lid. Unable to do this right now. I could wait. Wait for later.
Someone crouched in front of me, grabbing the lid and tenderly putting it in my shaking hand. I glanced up—and found Leon, more reverent than usual.
I held my breath, afraid that if I let myself breathe, I might break down again. If I did, I wasn't sure I'd be able to compose myself this time.
Quickly, I fit the lid back on top of the box and closed my eyes.
How beautiful a thing the art show must have been. Stolen from me. Never meant to be mine. Like stars keeping their distance. A little piece of happiness I would never have.
I wanted the paintings to be enough. God I wanted them to. But they weren't the same. I wanted Hayden. I wanted him to laugh when he saw how irritated his little painting note would make me. I wanted to hear his stupid voice. Wanted to see him do that stupid dance he did when he was excited. And I wanted him to hug me, even though he knew I hated hugs. Wishing I hadn't been so annoying and stubborn. Wishing I had hugged him back more.
But all I had were these fucking paintings.
As if Leon knew what I needed, he grabbed the box and got to his feet. "I'll put this by your bunk. Yeah?"
I nodded, pushing to my feet and forcing a smile. "Yeah. Thank you."
As he turned for the lower deck, I looked to Avery. "So, what, you're army now?"
Piers scoffed before Avery could. "No. He's still contracted with your agency." If I didn't know any better, I might have sensed contempt in his tone.
Avery gave him an annoyed look. "The Army General tried it. I told him no." His gaze returned to me. "Going through Angela's files, I found out she'd been working with the Army. Took me a while to realize she wasn't feeding them information. She was using them to protect you."
For a moment, he held Piers' gaze. Something unspoken passed between them before he looked back at me. "For the life of me, I couldn't figure out where the hell you were. She was really careful not to put that in writing. That knowledge died with her. So, I reached out to the army hoping they could tell me."
Piers shifted on his feet. "That was when I got the call."
"You?" My brows flew up in surprise.
He nodded. "I'm the field leader for the rapid response unit assigned to this outbreak. Any intelligence connected to the virus gets routed through me."
Avery hummed. "I asked if they could get me in contact with you. Piers here had another idea. He needed to deliver a message from President Graham. He knew I was a pilot. So we made a deal. I fly him out here, and he makes sure I get you back in my line of sight."
Familiar footsteps echoed behind me. I hardly reacted when Leon reappeared beside me, stopping close enough that his shoulder brushed mine.
"Well, it's good to see you." I smiled at Avery.
"Likewise." He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Now. We've had a very long flight." He looked to Owen and Jill. "Do you have some dinner to spare?"
Piers almost laughed. "Glad you said it."
Owen gave them his usual warm smile. "I'll show you to the kitchen."
They disappeared below deck, but Leon led me back to the fire. Before we rejoined the crew, his hand brushed my lower back and he dipped down low enough that his lips grazed my ear.
"You okay?"
I gave him the same weak smile I'd offered everyone else. The one that meant don't worry about me. "Yeah. Thanks."
His voice dropped impossibly lower. "You sure?"
I leaned closer to him. "Don't go anywhere tonight."
A quiet breath warmed my cheek. "Yes, ma'am."
~ ~ ~
It must have been ten o' clock at night by now. The men laughed around the fire, keeping the conversation light. Piers' men enjoyed a single beer each, but neither Avery nor Piers had a drop of alcohol.
The two new men seemed nice enough. They didn't ignore me, but they didn't go out of their way to interact with me either. Lopez was more likely to engage with me. Harper, on the other hand, was a quiet man. Even when Piers and Lopez spoke to him, he had very little to say.
I hardly gave any attention to them. Sandwiched between Avery and Leon, I had plenty enough interaction. Both of them did a great job lifting my spirits. Keeping to topics that didn't sting.
Tipping my second glass of hot cider to my lips, I let the liquid warm me and tucked my feet under myself. "So, did your wife have the baby?" I asked Avery.
A goofy grin split his lips and he reached into his pocket, producing a wallet and immediately flipping it open. He snagged the photograph inside and passed it to me.
"Born July twenty-seventh. Six pounds, nine ounces. My little girl, Olivia."
"Awww," I held it closer to my face, trying to get a better look at the small bundle in his wife's arms. Avery stood beside her, the both of them grinning from ear to ear. "She's so small."
Leon leaned into me, looking over my shoulder to get a better look. I passed him a glance, catching the small smirk that lifted the corner of his lips.
Avery nodded. "Littlest baby I ever saw. But she's a little monster. Never stops eating and never stops growing. She's a chunk now."
I giggled at that. "How's dad life treating you?"
"She's the best thing that ever happened to me. But I'm exhausted."
"Can't imagine how tired Antoinette is." I gave him a pointed look.
"We have a good system." He defended himself. "Switch off every night. Every other night, I stay up with her. She's colicky, so she barely sleeps."
"Lay her over ya arm." Owen interjected. "On her tummy. It helps."
Avery tilted his head, smiling back at the Captain. "You have kids?"
"They're grown now." He nodded. "But my first born had colic."
With a light laugh, Avery finished his cider and placed the glass inside the chair's drink-holder. "I'll have to remember that." Then, he pushed out of the chair, stretching as he straightened to his full height. "Anyway, I'm running on fumes. Is there somewhere I can sleep?"
Owen stood up, followed by Piers, Lopez, and Harper.
"I'll show you to the living quarters."
Avery gave me a quick hug, mumbling a quiet goodnight before turning after the Captain. The five of them headed for the stairs.
"We only have two more hammocks." Jill reminded him. "The others will have to settle for sleeping bags."
"Dibs on the hammock." Avery grinned.
"You can't call dibs." Piers rolled his eyes.
Avery opened his arms wide. "Just did."
They bickered all the way down the stairs, leaving me alone with the crew I had grown accustomed to.
A frigid breeze dusted the deck, curling down the back of my neck. I shivered, curling into myself further.
Leon noticed. He shifted in front of me, grabbing the collar of the jacket and buttoning it. It was instantly tighter around my throat, refusing the cold entry.
Lex, who was now clearly drunk, watched from the other side of the fire. "You're always fussing over her."
"Lex, leave it alone." Jill warned him.
"What? We're all thinking it."
"Yeah?" Leon looked up at him. "I always think how much of an ass you are. I usually keep it to myself, though."
Lex snorted, swallowing another sip from his flask and making a face at the burn of the alcohol. "I'm just saying. You treat her like she's made of glass."
"I don't need you to speak for me." I snapped at him. "If I have a problem, I'll tell Leon myself."
I expected him to back down like he always did when I got upset. Instead, he laughed. "Right. Can't blame you. All the attention must feel nice."
"Lex!" Jill snapped. "I think it's about time you went to bed."
"Oh come on," he argued, "It's just an observation."
"Kendra's had a hard time lately. She doesn't need you having a go at her." Jill fixed him with a stern look.
"We've all had a hard time lately. She's not special."
"Why can't you be more like Bishop when you drink?" She shook her head, clearly exasperated with this.
Lex swirled the contents of his drink absently, staring at the flask like it was actually interesting. "Yeah, well, Bishop's young. He drinks for fun. Some of us like to have a drink just so we can forget for a few hours."
I should have been offended by his remark. Instead, I tilted my head at him, studying him for the first time since we met. He had always been an enigma. Warm and kind one moment; abrasive and callous the next. It always depended on the situation. Whether he was consoling the wounded or doing what was necessary to keep someone alive. That's always what it seemed like, at least. The man could flip faster than a switch.
If he truly drank to forget, it made me wonder what exactly he was trying to keep himself from remembering. Junie? Whoever that was.
"So, you're a sad drunk, then." Leon remarked from beside me, keeping his tone antagonistic.
"Can't be sad if I don't remember what I'm supposed to be crying about." He lifted the flask to Leon, as if toasting him.
Suddenly, his gaze snapped to me. "You get it. Yeah?"
I shifted closer to Leon, pressing my leg against his. Wishing I had sat on his other side—further away from Lex. "Get what?"
"Forgetting." He took another swig, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I mean, you? You've seen some shit. I've always been the one saving lives. Or trying to, at least. Can't say I've been through what you have."
I winced at the bitterness in his tone. "No point comparing it. Medics carry their own trauma. Losing patients? It's not a lesser pain."
Lex leaned closer. "Don't bullshit me."
He's just drunk, I reminded myself. "I'm not."
Leon stiffened, his gaze finding Lex. "If you know what's good for you, you'll back off."
Lex stupidly ignored him, fixing his gaze on me. "Can I ask you something?"
I reached for the necklace at my throat, holding onto it like it was a life raft. "I guess."
"No, you can't." Leon's tone was a warning.
Lex continued like he didn't hear. "Well, I have a lot of things to ask you." He looked to the stars above us. "Haven't always had the courage to say it, though."
I remained silent, refusing to take my eyes off of him.
"Do you drink?" He asked without looking at me.
"Not really."
"You a sad drunk?"
I blew out a breath. "I get very... giggly. But the things I say aren't always funny."
"So... no. You're a happy drunk." Hazel eyes turned back on me. Orange fire light lit up his face, casting stark shadows under his brow. "I've seen a lot of people die. A lot of friends. People I wanted to save." He looked down at his hands. "People I couldn't."
I tried to relax. There was still a chance I could manage this. Reach an understanding with him. Though, Leon and Jill looked uneasy, gauging the conversation with extreme carefulness.
"You don't have an easy job." I said gently. "I know I couldn't do what you do. You have to be a strong person to deal with that."
His attention flicked back to me. "Did you watch your brother die?"
I could have looked away. Could have broken down at the question like I wanted to. But this moment wasn't about me.
"He was already gone by the time I got to the house." The words came out empty. Every drop of emotion absent.
"Did you do CPR?"
"I did."
"So you know. What that feels like."
"To do CPR?"
"To fail."
I inhaled. Deep enough that my chest hurt. My eyes found the flames, watching them dance—irreverent and oblivious to the world around them.
I could tell the truth. I could tell everyone here exactly what happened. But this moment right now wasn't for the truth. This moment belonged to Lex. Not me. And the truth about that day would not comfort him.
"I think, when it comes to doing what you do, the only thing that counts as a failure is negligence. You can do everything right. But people will still die. That doesn't mean you failed. That just means that some wounds are beyond fixing."
He snorted at that. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Leon handed me a s'more I hadn't realized he'd put together. "Would you like her to make you feel worse?" His irritation was unmistakable.
"She does that pretty well without speaking." Lex muttered.
I recoiled. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"
He gave me a mirthless smile. "Come on, Kendra. Don't play coy. You've spent the last week hating me because of what I had to do."
"I don't—" a frustrated breath, "I don't hate you."
"Well you shouldn't." The words came out sharp and defensive. "I did everything the way I was supposed to. I followed protocol. I refused to run those unnecessary tests even when you were being shitty to me. And it's not like you ever apologized."
"You want an apology?" I tried to keep my tone cool.
He threw his hand up. "You basically told me I'm an evil monster who just wants to perform experiments on you. That was never true. I told you over and over I didn't want to run those tests. You didn't believe me." He exhaled. "I do this job because I want to help people. And you basically screamed at me to hurt you."
Leon straightened. "You're whining about her not trusting you? It's not exactly her fault. Or do you not remember what happened to her fourteen days ago?"
"Of course I remember what happened to her. I've been understanding of that." Lex tossed the flask onto the empty chair beside him. "But god, when is she going to admit that I'm not the bad guy? She reached out to the BSAA on her own. She told us she was immune. Creating a vaccine was her idea. The only reason I was put on this ship was because Redfield trusted me to do exactly what Kendra proposed. And now I'm the evil bastard for it?"
Leon opened his mouth to argue.
I held up a hand, stopping him. He clamped his mouth shut.
Swallowing, I gave Lex a subtle nod. "You're right. I haven't been fair to you. I've been cruel. I'm sorry." My voice softened with sincerity. "I let my own hurt cloud my judgment of you. You didn't deserve that."
Lex drew back, momentarily dumbstruck. Then he laughed. "Do you always just give in like that? Without a fight?"
"Lex." Leon and Jill warned at the same time.
I raised a brow. "I wasn't yielding. And I'm not fighting with you either. You've said and done things that hurt me. And yes, I was wrong to accuse you. But that doesn't undo what you did."
He laughed, like this was exactly what he wanted. "And what exactly have I done to you? Tended to your wounds? Developed a vaccine you asked for?"
"Your lack of trust in me and Leon almost killed me. Your refusal to listen. You want to talk about trust? Let's start with you and this entire crew believing I had helped Verissimo. Forcing me to recount my trauma in detail. Antagonizing me and Leon."
He laughed at me. "Well, whether it was intentional or not, you did help Verissimo."
The words felt like a slap to the face. A confirmation of exactly what I had feared since he found out Verissimo was my uncle.
They blamed me for this.
"You should take a walk." Leon intervened, his voice low. A warning.
Lex got to his feet, but he didn't leave. "Oh come on. She's so good at taking responsibility. So let's hear it now. Stop playing the victim for a moment, Kendra."
Leon got to his feet, stepping in between me and Lex. "That's enough."
Lex ignored him, looking right past him at me. "That's why you've been like this, right? You can't let yourself feel that guilt."
"She was a child." Leon argued.
"I'm not talking about that." He laughed. "It's been four months, Kennedy. Why the hell did it take her so long to get that evidence to someone? Because she was scared?" Another bitter laugh. "If she hadn't taken so long to turn it over, this could have been handled before the virus was unleashed on the public."
"She was being actively hunted." Leon sounded incredulous. Like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"There was at least a week between her return to the states and her family's deaths.” He got louder, tone harsher. “If she had gotten on a plane and come to the BSAA immediately, none of this would be happening."
Emotion knotted my throat. "I was scared. I didn't—I didn't know who to trust. I did the best I could."
"Your best is useless!" He gestured vaguely. "You hesitated. And if you hadn't; your family, those civilians, my friends? They would still be here."
He threw his arms down, eyes full of anger—waiting for a response. Waiting for me to either deny it or take the blame.
Hot tears burned my eyes, blurring his features.
"You're a mean drunk." The words came out far softer than I had meant them to.
He startled at that.
The entire deck went silent, filled with nothing but the crackling of the fire. For a moment, no one moved. Not even Lex.
Then he scrubbed a hand over his face, turning his back on me.
"Christ." He mumbled, almost to himself.
Something far more complicated took over. Without warning, he snatched the flask from the chair, turned toward the guard rail—and hurled it into the ocean.
We all watched as the darkness swallowed it.
Lex kept his back to me, shoulders heaving with labored breaths.
"You owe her an apology." Leon said. Deceptively calm.
The medic looked over his shoulder, his eyes finding nothing in particular. "Yeah. I do."
We waited.
And Lex walked away without another word, disappearing through the door into the superstructure. It slammed behind him and I flinched.
Leon turned back around to face me, his gaze hardening the moment a tear slipped down my cheek. I swiped it away quickly, sniffing and looking away.
Bishop, who had been unusually quiet, pushed away from the railing, his voice soft and kind. "He didn't mean that."
I nodded. "I know."
"None of this is your fault." He added.
"I know." I whispered.
Rook slowly wandered closer, standing just beside Bishop. "He's lashing out. We'll talk to him."
I looked up, meeting Rook's eye. "So who was it?"
His brow twitched. "What?"
"He said his friends were killed. Because of me. Who was it?"
Rook lowered himself into a chair. "It wasn't because of you."
"Who?" I pressed harder.
No one would look at me. Frustrated, I looked around at all of them. Trying to pick the weakest one. The one that would tell me whatever it was they were hiding from me.
"Was it Junie?" I finally asked.
Rook stiffened briefly, then he exhaled. It was sharp and defeated. "We weren't always a small crew. There used to be ten of us."
Finally. "What happened?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "The ship was attacked. A few days after we set sail. There was a breach in security. Someone got into the BSAA server. Leaked the email transcripts between Redfield and Fields."
"Was it Verissimo?"
"It was his men. His virus. We managed to call in reinforcements. But... we lost two of our people before they got here."
I set my jaw. "Lex was close with them?"
Rook sighed. "Lex is close with all of us. You know? We've been a team for a while." He paused. “But Junie… Junie was like our little sister. And Bailey could be annoying, but he was still one of us.”
“Lex knew Bailey was gone. There was nothing he could do.” Mouse spoke up for the first time in what felt like hours. “He tried to save Junie. He did everything he could. We all know that. But… he struggles with losing her. It’s made him mean. He never used to be like that.”
I looked away. "So Junie and Bailey. They were your friends too?"
"Yeah. But..." Rook wrung his hands. "Look, what happened? It would have happened either way. He's been working on this virus for a long time. Whether you got on a plane or not—nothing was going to stop him."
My thumb found my other hand, roughly rubbing the center of my palm. "Why didn't anyone say anything?"
Rook leaned forward, holding my gaze. "It's not your guilt to carry."
I laughed. It wasn't amused. And it definitely wasn’t relief. It was heavy and sad.
Suddenly, everything began to make sense. Why there were two empty bunks. Why the crew heard I was an operative and lost trust in me. Why Jill and Lex spent that first day interrogating me. They knew I was capable of breaching their servers. Knew I had been a double agent before. I was the outlier. The unknown. The person who had reached out for help... and slapped them in the face when they did exactly what I had asked them to do.
Suddenly, I understood why Lex was so unpredictable. Why he swung between warmth and coldness. He was trying to hold everyone together. But he could barely hold himself together. Carrying not just my survival, but his friends' survival on his shoulders. Carrying the weight of loss. Of failure. Of that crippling grief that I was all too familiar with.
My elbows found my knees and I folded forward, pressing my palms into my eyes. Trying to force the tears away.
"Dammit." I whispered, voice trembling. And then the dam broke, a sob slipping out. "Dammit dammit dammit."
Leon sighed, stepping closer to me. "Come on. It's late. You should get some sleep."
"It's past curfew anyway." Jill added, voice rougher than usual. "We should all go to bed."
Rook and Bishop retreated first. Footsteps from a few others outside of the fire pit headed for the bunks as well. I stayed put, needing all of them to be gone before I faced the world again.
"Kendra." Jill sounded as though she might be trying to chastise me. At least, at first. But I heard the shift of fabric as she crouched in front of me. "I want you to listen to me."
I sniffed, wiping away the tears and forcing myself to look at her.
"Lex was out of line. I know it. He knows it. And you know it." She rested her forearms on her knees. "Don't let some angry drunk get to you like that."
I drew in a deep breath, but couldn't bring myself to respond. So, I nodded.
She gave me a crooked smile. "The next time he talks to you like that, I want you to punch him right in the face. Don't let people treat you like that."
"He's not gonna talk to her like that again." Leon mumbled.
Jill made a face. "Leon can't protect you for the rest of your life. At some point, you need to stand up for yourself. So, it starts now. Got it?"
Leon looked away, jaw tightening, but he let it go.
I held her gaze. Knowing she wasn't scolding me... even if it sounded like it.
"Okay." I sniffed.
She nodded. "Okay. Now get to bed."
Without another word, I got to my feet and obeyed. Leon followed behind me.
~ ~ ~
Leon
The crew mumbled goodnight to us as we passed through the main living quarters. There were extra bodies to step over tonight. Including Harbor, who was cuddled up with Piers. Still, we eventually found our way to the officer's quarters.
Kendra entered the room slowly, drifting toward the desk. Her fingers traced the letters I'd set aside for us.
With practiced quiet, I shut the door, shrugging off my jacket. "Are you okay?"
She said nothing. Her face lifted to the ceiling, eyes closed.
I returned my jacket to the wardrobe. Waiting for her to say something. Counting in my head when the seconds seemed to last too long.
She stayed beside the desk, scooting the chair away with her foot. An absent gesture. It seemed to be in her way, because her focus dropped to the paper cranes.
Her fingers closed around the wing of one, setting it on top of the letters like it might keep them in place. Like it might prevent us from reading them.
I eased into the chair she pushed aside. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to say," she whispered.
"Seems like there's plenty to think about, though." I kept my voice gentle, careful not to let concern sound like accusation.
"You already know everything I'm thinking."
"Mind reading's an imperfect art." I offered her a small smile. "Sometimes I get it wrong."
The corner of her mouth twitched. "I thought you were always right?"
An amused breath escaped me. "Funny."
That was met with an empty nod. Her knuckles found a restless rhythm against the desk.
"I'm tired." The words scraped out of her, weak and defeated.
I didn't have to ask what she meant. "What can I do?"
A small sound slipped out of her. Almost a whimper. She dragged a hand through her curls. "I don't know. Nothing."
Without warning, she turned away from the desk and crossed the room. Both palms pressed against the bulkhead, forehead resting against the cold steel.
"I just wanted to do the right thing."
"You did."
She exhaled, knocking her head lightly against the wall. "No. I took too long. I was scared. And I let it affect everything."
"You were cautious. It's why you're still alive."
"At the cost of everyone else." She laughed bitterly.
Suddenly, she shook her head. Like she was banishing a thought. "I don't want to be here. I want to go home." A tiny sob slipped out of her. "And I know that sounds childish and ridiculous but I just—I just—I want to go home."
I was on my feet before she finished speaking, crossing the room without thinking. "That's not childish. I think anyone in your position would want the exact same thing."
"No, you see, because it is." She turned sharply, suddenly furious. Not at me, but angry either way. "It is ridiculous. Because Hayden is dead and it's my fault. That's my fault."
Her voice broke. "I don't have a home to go back to."
She waved a flippant hand toward the box by the bunk. "But thank God I have these paintings, right? I should be grateful. But I'm not. I don't want the paintings. I don't want the candle. It's not the same."
I reached for her. "Kendra—"
She stepped out of my reach.
"I just want my brother back." An awful sound scraped out of her chest, her voice becoming shrill. "I want him back so much that I wish I'd done nothing." Her breathing hitched. "I know that makes me a bad person. But I don't want to be noble or honorable. If I could go back and stop myself, I would. I would."
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "And people would die because of it, and that makes me a monster."
Her hands flew up, exasperated. "But I came from selfish people. Maybe that's who I am. Maybe things would be different if I stopped pretending to be a good person."
She dropped her face into her hands, rubbing roughly at her skin. "All of this was for what? Because I thought I could save people?" An incredulous watery laugh. "I can't save anyone. Giving my body is the least I could do for the mess I made. I deserve it."
Nausea churned my stomach at her words.
I was all too familiar with what she was doing. I'd done it too. Over and over again. Turning every loss into evidence. Every failure into proof. Building a case against myself until guilt felt more honest than grief.
"Kendra." My voice came quiet and steady. "You want something you can't have. That doesn't make you a bad person."
I took a cautious step closer, and this time she didn't pull away. Her shoulders sagged, a defeated cry waning from her lips.
"Good people have terrible thoughts when they're in pain." I murmured. "They imagine impossible choices. They wish they could change things they can't."
Her head fell back, an awful sob hiccuping out of her.
Gently, I set my hands on her shoulders, smoothing down the fabric of her shirt absently. "Look, I get it. What you're feeling right now? You never wanted anyone to get hurt. And you think you're the only one who could have stopped it." I shook my head. "But that's not true."
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Punishing yourself because you think you failed won't make you feel better." I brushed my thumb across her shoulder. "It won't bring Hayden back. It won't save anyone."
Her eyes found anything but me. The ceiling. The ground. The door.
"I know what you're doing." I said gently. "I've done it too."
That finally made her look at me.
"You think if you hurt enough or sacrifice enough, maybe someday, you'll have paid for it. But this grief and this guilt isn't..." I let out a breath. "It's not a debt that you can repay."
Her brows furrowed, tears staining her cheeks. "I don't know what else to do." Her voice cracked. "Tell me what to do."
I gently held her face in my hands, ensuring her eyes stayed on me. "You're doing enough already."
"No." She shook her head, dissolving into a sob. "I'm not."
I gathered her into my arms, tucking her against my chest. "You are."
She buried her face into my neck, muffled protests warming my skin. She didn't believe me.
There had to be something I could say. Something I could do to make her understand. But all logic abandoned me. I felt helpless. Grief wasn't something I could fight. I couldn't reason with it or protect her from it. And I was never good at saying the right thing.
So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I guided her toward the bunk and folded her against me, my hand moving in slow, steady strokes over her back.
She crawled into my lap, sobbing into my skin, finally unafraid to let me see her fall apart. To see her vulnerable. Trembling and exhausted.
My arm tightened around her waist, while my other hand moved to remove her shoes. Discarding them carelessly. I focused on her jacket next, easing her arms from the sleeves and tossing it over the back of the chair. Then I turned her toward the wall, gently laying her on the mattress.
Each sob tore out harder than the last, fingers clinging to the fabric of my shirt like she was afraid I might leave.
I wouldn't. Not now. Not when she was like this. So, I kicked off my boots and lowered myself beside her, curling around her body like I might be able to protect her from this.
Part of me wished I could hide her from all of it.
They had their vaccine. We knew it worked. That was all they needed from her. Anything more felt like curiosity. Politics. Government greed disguised as necessity.
If we weren't trapped on this ship, I think I would've done it. I would've picked her up and left. Taken her somewhere else.
I didn't know where. I just knew delivering her to a room full of scientists felt wrong now.
As I held her, trying to soothe her to sleep, I found myself wondering if I could convince Avery to come back without the Army. To take her somewhere no one would think to look. Somewhere so far off the map that even I wouldn't know where she was. That way, if they ever tried to force the information out of me, there'd be nothing for them to find.
I didn't want to be apart from her. But as long as she was with me, she would never be safe. And if letting her go was the only way to protect her, I'd do it. Even if it meant never seeing her again.
Still, I wondered if she'd ever agree to it. The guilt inside her ran deep. Too deep for me to reach. She wouldn't run. Not again. Even when she knew she would suffer. She wouldn't run.
Kendra remained rooted to me, until her cries faded and her breathing steadied. She didn't move away. After a long while, that nearly silent snore met my ears.
It was impossible to follow her into sleep. I lied awake all night, holding onto her. Thinking about Graham’s letters. About the BSAA. Going over a million scenarios in my head that might change how this ends.
Holding onto her a little tighter.
~ ~ ~
September 26, 2005 — Monday
When morning came, Kendra was different than she had been the last few days. She forced herself out of bed early. Showered before the rest of the ship woke up. Returned to the room and sat at the desk, hunched over a notebook.
Today, she didn’t wallow in sadness like she had yesterday or the day before. Today, she put the mask back on. She smiled at me. Joked with me. Pretended like nothing had happened at all.
The pretending was worse than the break down. At least when she was falling apart last night, it had been honest. For a few hours, she’d stopped carrying everything by herself. I’d finally caught a glimpse of what she’d been holding back for months.
And now it was gone again.
Worse, it felt terrifyingly familiar. This was the Kendra I’d come to know. Capable. Composed. Funny. Untouchable.
Maybe this was who she was. Or maybe I’d only convinced myself the woman who cried herself to sleep in my arms was the real version of her.
But a part of her was still missing today. And I couldn’t stop wondering which version of her hurt more.
“What time is it?” She asked suddenly, her head still trained downward as her pen scrawled across the paper.
I paused with my task, shoelaces dropping back to the floor as I lifted my watch to my face.
“Almost eight.”
“When do you think everyone will wake up?”
I shrugged, grabbing the laces again and tying my boots. “Probably in seven minutes when Jill gets her ass up and parades down the hall like she does every morning.”
A harsh knock at the door made both of us jump. “I heard that, asshole.”
I stared at the door. “How the hell—”
Kendra snickered. “These walls are thinner than you think.”
“Guess we should be worried.” I mumbled under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head, getting to my feet. “Why do you want everyone awake? Feeling social today?”
“I wanted to talk to Avery. We barely got to speak last night.”
I raised a brow. “He was the only one you were talking to. For damn near an hour.”
Finally she lifted her head, looking at me over her shoulder. “Are you… jealous?”
My eyes found the wall instead of her.
The truth was, when she’d thrown herself into his arms last night, I had been. For all of two seconds. Long enough for something ugly and possessive to twist in my chest.
Then she’d started crying, and it vanished. Just like that. Like someone threw a bucket of ice water over my head.
Watching her fall apart in Avery’s arms hadn’t made me jealous. It had hurt. Because for the first time since I’d met her, she’d let someone else carry her grief.
When she’d asked about his wife and daughter later, whatever was left of that feeling disappeared completely.
Still, however brief it had been, it was enough to make me avoid her eyes now.
She hummed, like my silence had told her everything she needed to know. “Avery’s practically my brother. As close to one as I’ll ever have again, at least.”
“I know.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “You know?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Nothing to be jealous about.”
“That’s really convincing.” She deadpanned.
Turning, I rested my back against the door and folded my arms. “What are you doing? Writing a letter?”
It was an obvious topic change, but she indulged me anyway.
“Just… getting some things off my chest.”
“Hm. Therapeutic.” I focused on the porthole, watching the ocean beyond the room.
Her pen dropped, clattering against the desk. “Hey. Do you think… do you think we should open the letters?”
The knot in my stomach cinched tighter. “Now?”
She sighed. “Might as well get it over with.”
My jaw tightened. Almost painfully as I stared at the presidential seal to the left of her notebook. I said nothing when she grabbed the letters. When she turned to hand me mine, I had to force myself to take it.
Still, I watched her open hers first. I expected her to read it immediately. Instead, she looked up at me. “We read them at the same time.”
It left no room for argument. She didn’t want to feel alone while doing this.
Slowly, I slid my index under the lip of the envelope. Swept sideways and tore it open. Pulled out the letter and took my time unfolding it.
We held each other’s gaze. She let out breath—and nodded. Both of our heads went down at the same time.
————————
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON, DC
September 23, 2005
Special Agent Leon S. Kennedy
Leon,
By now, I imagine you’ve had more than enough of official correspondence, so I’ll keep this brief.
First, allow me to express my gratitude. The intelligence you secured and the actions you’ve taken over the last several weeks have undoubtedly saved countless lives. Your commitment to protecting others, even under extraordinary circumstances, reflects the very best of the service you have given this country.
I am also aware of the difficult decisions you were forced to make during your operation.
After a full review of the evidence provided by the Department of Defense, the Office of the President has determined that the USSTRATCOM personnel involved in the attacks against you and your protected witness acted outside the lawful authority of the United States government and in direct violation of their sworn duties.
Evidence confirms that these individuals knowingly collaborated with criminal organizations, participated in unauthorized operations, and attempted to obstruct an active federal investigation for personal gain.
Effective immediately, this letter serves as formal notice that you are fully exonerated of any wrongdoing related to the use of lethal force against those individuals. No criminal or administrative action will be pursued. Their actions have been classified as acts of treason against the United States.
You acted lawfully, appropriately, and in defense of yourself and others under your protection.
Let there be no uncertainty on that matter.
With the situation developing overseas, I recognize that your current assignment remains unfinished. However, once your responsibilities in the field have concluded, I am formally requesting your return to active duty on United States soil.
Upon the successful transfer of your protected witness into BSAA custody, you are hereby directed to return to the United States immediately and report for debriefing.
Your experience, judgment, and leadership will be critical in the weeks and months ahead.
More importantly, your country still needs you.
For what it’s worth, this request comes not only from the President of the United States, but from someone who considers you a trusted friend.
I expect to see you back on American soil as soon as your mission is complete.
Stay safe, Leon.
Respectfully,
Theodore Graham
President of the United States
————————
My hand dropped back to my side, mind processing the information. It was exactly what I expected it to be. A presidential order. To come back.
No—not just to come back. To leave her behind. Trust her to the BSAA. Trust Chris to keep her safe.
My gaze found Kendra. She was already watching me.
“What does yours say?” I asked.
She held it out to me. “Want to switch?”
I let out a breath, wishing I could crumple the letter up and throw it into the sea. But the order would still exist even if the letter didn’t.
We traded without a word. For some reason, my stomach twisted harder as I prepared to read hers. Only one other person crossing my mind.
Sherry. What they had done to her. What they were still doing to her. The agreement I had made in hopes of keeping her safe. Failing anyway.
Knowing exactly what was going to be in this letter.
I swallowed the feeling and straightened the paper.
————————
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON, DC
September 23, 2005
Ms. Kendra Mason,
I am writing to you regarding the ongoing bioterrorism crisis connected to the V-virus outbreak and the information recently provided to my administration.
First, I wish to acknowledge the extraordinary circumstances you have endured in service to your country.
The United States government failed to adequately protect you following your disclosure of evidence related to these events. The loss of your family, the repeated attempts on your life, and the burden you have carried since coming forward represent failures across multiple federal departments and agencies. For those failures, I offer my sincere regret.
Despite these hardships, your actions have already saved countless lives. I thank you for the vaccination you took part in developing.
I have been briefed on the unique biological characteristics associated with your condition, including your demonstrated immunity to the V-virus and your accelerated regenerative capabilities. Medical experts advising my administration believe that further study of your condition may prove essential to developing additional vaccines, treatments, and countermeasures that could save American lives.
As a citizen of the United States, I ask you to consider returning home and fulfilling your responsibilities to your fellow citizens during this national emergency.
Upon your transfer from BSAA protective custody, I formally request that you submit yourself for scientific evaluation and ongoing study under the supervision of authorized federal medical personnel.
Should you agree to this request, you will remain under the protection and custody of the United States government at all times. Appropriate security measures will be implemented to ensure your safety and privacy. Every effort will be made to treat you with dignity and respect throughout this process.
I understand that the trust required to accept this request has been deeply damaged. I do not ask this lightly.
The decisions before you carry consequences that extend far beyond any one agency or administration. They affect the lives of countless families who now face the same fear and uncertainty that you have already endured.
Whatever choice you make, your courage in coming forward will not be forgotten.
Respectfully,
Theodore Graham
President of the United States
————————
I’d never been weak of stomach. I was now. It felt disgusting to even hold the paper in my hands. I handed it back to her quickly. She slowly returned mine.
Kendra turned in the chair to face me completely, resting her chin on the top of the backrest. “So… you have to go back.”
“Not yet.” I reminded her.
She nodded. “What do you think I should do?”
I closed my eyes, tipping my head back against the door. “I can’t make that decision for you.”
Because there wasn’t a right answer. One path led back to a government that had already failed her. The other meant putting her trust in an agency she wasn’t familiar with. One that might just do the exact same thing to her, but farther from home.
And the truth I couldn’t admit, even to myself, was that if she asked me what I wanted, I would’ve told her to run.
She was quiet for a long time. Her fingers latched onto the necklace at her throat, thumb tracing the smooth surface of the shark tooth. The one thing I had given her. She never took it off.
When she finally spoke, her voice was impossibly quiet. “If I go back… do you… do you think they’ll let you visit me?”
No. I didn’t. She’d be hidden away. We would never see each other again.
I stared into those dark brown eyes. Wide and hopeful and afraid.
Summary: 7,365 words // angst, light fluff, comfort
>Chapter 38
Chapter 37:
Kendra
September 25, 2005 — Sunday
"How long does it take to change?" Leon complained from the hall, his knuckles tapping a rhythm against the bulkhead.
"I didn't like the last pants. They weren't comfortable enough." I pulled the baggy pants over my hips, looking at myself in the small mirror inside the wardrobe. It was hard to visualize if I looked okay inside such a small piece of glass.
"At this point, I think you should just wear the wet pajama pants." He grumbled through the door.
I huffed, angling my head down so I could at least see my shirt. It showed a bit too much cleavage for my liking, so I pulled it up. Still, I couldn't see my legs in the mirror. At the very least, the harem pants I had opted for were infinitely more comfortable than the jeans.
Exasperated, I turned for the door and yanked it open. "How do I look?" I asked, opening my arms.
He stepped back, slightly startled by my sudden appearance, but his gaze washed over me. I didn't miss the slight color that found his cheeks or the way he fought to keep his gaze on my face.
"Great." His voice cracked. He looked away, clearing his throat. "Uh, it's cold, though. You might want a jacket."
My hands found my hips, slightly annoyed that I needed to find another piece of clothing to wear. Still, I turned my back on him and crossed over to the wardrobe. He followed after me this time, clearly fed up with the hall. He stood just over my shoulder—the perfect angle to see his face in the mirror.
I rifled through sweaters and jackets, clicking my tongue with each rejection.
"Why don't you wear the one you had on earlier?" He asked, tilting his head. Our eyes met in the mirror.
"I don't think Princess pink goes with this outfit." I snorted.
"I like the pink." He remarked casually. Like it meant nothing. Then his gaze went to the desk.
"Is that their new home?"
Confused, I followed his eyes to find the dozen or so paper cranes that I had lined up in an orderly fashion. I nodded. "Probably the safest place for them. Wouldn't want them getting wet."
He gave a breathy laugh. "Even if they did, I'm sure Mouse wouldn't mind making you more."
A soft smile betrayed me and I looked at him over my shoulder. "Yeah, but what kind of origami mother would I be if I let his hard work get ruined?"
Exhaling, he mumbled something under his breath.
"Hm?" I turned to face him.
"Nothing." His lips twitched, then he stepped closer.
The scent of him washed over me and I went still as his arm reached past my head. The muscle flexed as he pushed hangers to the side. Some needy part of myself wanted to touch him. To press myself into his chest. Or worse.
He stepped back before I could, pulling a jacket into view. "How about this one?"
I glanced at it once and gave him a teasing look. "That one's not mine."
"Yeah, but none of yours are warm enough." His index finger prodded the opening of the jacket, showing off the inside. "Mine has a wool lining."
"Protecting me from the cold now?" I teased, stepping into the jacket and slipping my arms into the sleeves.
His fingers grazed the back of my neck as he pulled my curls loose from the collar. "The correct response is thank you."
With a downward smile, I turned back around to face him, staying close. Closer than he expected. He went suddenly still.
Pushing onto my toes, I pecked a small kiss to the tip of his nose. "Thank you."
That disarmed him completely. Whatever snarky comeback he had prepared died on his lips.
I stepped away from him, and something flickered in his eyes. Something that almost looked like disappointment. I thought he might reach out for me. Pull me back in. Or maybe even ask me not to go just yet.
Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away, like he couldn't trust himself to keep looking at me.
My gaze returned to the mirror. "You have good taste. I think this might actually go with this outfit."
He laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. "It's like I said when we met. Every sweater I own is perfectly in style."
I turned on my heel, glancing down at his bare arms. My eyes lingered a little too long, heat rising up the back of my neck. "What jacket are you gonna wear?"
A deep hum made my stomach flip. Again, he reached past me, pinning me between him and the wardrobe. His bicep grazed my ear, and a sudden wave of overwhelming need washed over me. Need to close the distance. Need to touch him. Need for him to touch me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I took a step back, desperate to create space before I did something embarrassing. But my boot caught on the edge of the wardrobe door and I stumbled sideways.
Leon caught me by the waist, tugging my upright before anything disastrous could happen.
"Careful." He murmured.
For a split second, my gaze landed on his lips. Then reality hit, mortified with myself. Only then did I realize my hands were on his chest. I pushed away from him and he released me, watching my every step as I backed away toward the door.
"You know, your eyes work better if you point them in the direction you're walking." The smallest smirk lifted the corner of his lips.
Right. Why was I even staring at him? Shouldn't I be looking away?
My hand closed around the doorknob, opening the door wider. Giving myself something else to look at. The hall. The empty boring hall.
It was significantly less distracting than he was.
The sound of a hanger clicking against the bar almost made me turn around. I kept my feet stubbornly planted toward the hall, pretending to find interest with the jacket pockets as Leon shrugged on a jacket of his own.
Cold steel shocked the tips of my fingers. Grateful for the distraction, I pulled the object into the open.
"Why do you have a knife in here?" I asked, turning it every which way. It was sheathed, but still dangerously big. At least six inches.
He reached over my shoulder, snatching it from my hand. "I think you'd be more surprised if you found any of my clothes without a weapon."
I hummed. "Sometimes I forget you're a walking threat."
"Because you know I would never hurt you." He shrugged. "Everyone else? Fair game."
My gaze fell on his hands. Hands that had been all over me two nights ago. Intrusive memories of us brought my mind to a screeching halt.
Something wildly inappropriate threatened to leave my lips. Something I swallowed down immediately. Heat burned my cheeks and I forced my gaze back on the hall.
"You ready to go upstairs?" I said instead.
"Yeah. Just one more thing." He mumbled.
I kept my back to him, stepping toward the hall. "What's that?"
He said nothing.
My fingers worried the hem of the jacket, finding the zipper and trying to slip the teeth into the slider.
"Kendra."
"Hm?" I tossed a look toward my shoulder, careful not to catch sight of him.
A calloused hand closed around my wrist, gently turning me around. I was like putty in his hands, allowing him to move me. He reached for the jacket, taking the zipper from my grasp and threading it into the slider with ease. I avoided his gaze, keeping my eyes on his chest as he pulled the zipper up.
Silently, he straightened the collar around my throat. My lips parted, meaning to thank him, but words failed me.
Without warning, his fingers caught my chin—and then his lips were on mine.
I kissed him back without hesitation. Giving in so enthusiastically that he laughed against my mouth.
Two steady arms slipped around my waist, anchoring me against him. His thumb brushed the center of my back, the gentlest caress.
Just as my fingers found purchase on his arms, he drew back. Only an inch.
"Sorry," he mumbled softly, breath warming my skin. "I don't—" a breath, "I don't know why I..."
"I do." I said breathlessly, burying my hands in his hair and pulling him down into me. Our lips met again and I stole as many kisses as he would allow me.
He sighed into my mouth, hands finding my hips and fingers digging into my skin. He gave me another kiss. And then a second one. Fevered and full of longing. Two hips pressed against mine, pinning me against the door.
"Fuck," his hold on me tightened, and maybe some part of me was going insane because I could almost feel the battle he was having with himself.
He stepped away so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance, stumbling forward.
"We should go upstairs." He panted, keeping his eyes anywhere but on me.
My fingers brushed my lips, a small tremble betraying me. "Right." I stuttered. "Wouldn't want... anyone to see that." Overwhelmed, I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to shake off whatever this was that lingered in my nervous system.
I turned for the door. Made it only two steps. Something made me turn back around. Abrupt and desperate to know.
"What was that?"
Taken aback, he gestured vaguely. "...a kiss."
My hand found my lips again. Like I could still feel him there. "No. What did it mean?"
He let out a breath. "You want to have this conversation now?"
I turned back around quickly, shaking my head. "No. I don't."
And then I was gone, hurrying down the hall. Refusing to turn back again. His footsteps followed after me, but he said nothing. No argument. No pushing.
I was grateful for that. Whatever honesty he was willing to offer me wasn't something I could hear right now. I wasn't entirely sure why I had even asked.
Maybe I already knew the answer. Maybe we both did.
But with everything else going on, this not-so-complicated relationship I had with him wasn't a priority. People were dying. From a virus that my own family had created. Using data obtained through testing on me. And now, I was the only one who could end this.
Is that why I was doing this? Was I using him to distract myself? Escaping from this nightmare by clinging to whatever bit of relief he could offer me?
We hardly knew each other. Seven weeks. Less than two months. Even though we spent every moment right beside each other, that didn't suddenly make this any less insane.
It was just the proximity. Nothing more. Seven weeks was nothing. This feeling in the pit of my stomach was manufactured. It wasn't real. Couldn't be.
I reached the upper deck in silence, not at all remembering the walk here. The moment I stepped into the floodlight, drunken jeers echoed over the deck, making me jump.
Leon found my side, just as silent as I was.
"There she is!" Bishop yelled, getting up so fast that he stumbled sideways. Rook caught him, smacking him in the back of the head after putting the lieutenant back on two feet.
We crossed over to the crew, noting the folding chairs that had been set up around a metal fire pit. A large flame crackled in the center of the group, large enough that four people could roast marshmallows over the heat.
Bishop grinned widely, a beer in hand as he staggered toward me. Without warning, he wrapped me in a tight hug. "You came!" He slurred.
I laughed awkwardly, patting him on the back. "Yeah. You good?"
He pulled away, nodding. "I am now! We saved you some marshmallows."
From a few feet away, Mouse lifted a plastic bag, proving Bishop correct.
"They were gonna eat all of them." Bishop continued. "But I told them you would be here."
I laughed. "How did you know?"
He shrugged, throwing an arm around my shoulder and guiding me toward the fire. "I could tell you were feeling better."
I didn't respond, but I let him lead me toward a chair. He pushed me down into it, a little more rough than he usually was with me.
Jill kicked him in the thigh. "Careful. She's not one of you idiots."
"It's okay." I assured her, smiling.
Bishop moved to sit next to me, but Leon slid into the chair faster than he could. Without missing a beat, the lieutenant swiveled and sat across from me instead. Unbothered.
I fought hard to keep my attention on the conversation.
Jill shifted in her chair, pulling her marshmallow from the flame. "Everything alright? You look..." she tilted her head at me. "Nervous."
Wiping my hands on my pants, I tried to calm my nerves. "Yeah. It's just... this is... nice."
"The fire?" She smooshed the marshmallow between two crackers.
Belonging. Being wanted.
I couldn't say that, though.
"Being part of the crew." I settled on instead. Even that felt loaded.
Before she could respond, Leon leaned forward. "Are you drinking, too?" He looked to the whiskey glass in her hand.
She snorted. "It's actually just apple juice. I don't drink on the job."
"Only the idiots drink." Lex answered. It was the first thing he'd said around me in almost a day. I almost didn't notice him standing beside the fire.
"Funny." Jill leaned back, examining her s'more. "I consider you one of the idiots."
"You don't drink on the job?" I asked Lex. "Or you don't drink at all?"
Surprise flickered on his face. Like he hadn't expected me to speak to him. It took him a moment to recover.
"Alcohol isn't my friend." He finally answered.
Jill made a sound. "That's an understatement."
Lex glared at her. "You've only seen me drunk once."
"One time too many." She muttered, biting into the cracker.
"Would you like a drink, Miss Kendra?" Mouse asked, lifting a bottle of brandy.
"Do you have any more apple juice?" I asked.
At that, Owen pushed off the bulwark. "I've got somethin' better. How 'bout some hot cider? Keep ya warm."
Wraith snickered, tilting her head back over the guard rail. The ocean breeze caught the long strands of her black hair. "Grab me a glass too, my love?"
The term of endearment was startling. She was clearly intoxicated, but it was the first time I'd heard either of them call the other anything but their callsigns.
Owen gave her a curt nod. "Anythin' for you. Is that all ya want?"
She looked back up at him, a flirtatious little smirk on her lips. "Ask me again at curfew."
I averted my gaze, suddenly feeling like I was intruding on something I shouldn't be watching.
Jill leaned closer to me. "Guess I'm getting the room to myself tonight."
I met her eyes, noticing for the first time that they were blue. I'd been on this ship for a week now. That was the first time she'd spoken to me so casually. Like we were friends. Not an officer and an asset. Friends.
I tried to remain equally as casual. "So, why doesn't Wraith sleep in the Captain's quarters? They're married, aren't they?"
Jill smiled. "I think they both just like to try to keep their job and their marriage separate."
My eyes went to the fire. "So... it's not frowned upon? Personal relationships like that. In the BSAA."
She sank her teeth into the s'more, crumbs falling to the ground. Only after she finished chewing did she give me a shrug. "I think the BSAA has bigger things to worry about."
Bishop leaned forward. "Why? Thinking about joining the BSAA?"
My gaze went to Leon. Briefly. I frowned and reached for the marshmallows, taking one and absently handing it to Leon. Joining the BSAA wasn't something I had considered an option.
Jill grabbed the empty graham cracker box and threw it at the lieutenant. "Don't be a dipshit. Even if she was thinking of joining, she wouldn't be stupid enough to entertain you."
Bishop grinned widely, tossing the box into the fire. "Oh I'm well aware who Kendra would rather entertain."
Leon cleared his throat. "Can I have that?" He pointed to the sleeve of crackers on Jill's lap.
Either oblivious or intentionally stoic, Jill grabbed the crackers and quietly handed them over. Leon reached behind my back, arm grazing my shoulders. The tips of my ears burned at the contact.
"So, why exactly would Kendra join the BSAA?" Rook chimed in. "I mean, no offense," he looked directly at me, "but I don't exactly get the feeling you like us."
I winced at that. "Why would you say that?"
"You spend most of your time as far away from us as possible." Bishop hiccuped.
"Don't take that personally." Leon grumbled, spearing the marshmallow on a stick. "She was like that the first week with me."
Rook hummed. "So, you're usually pretty standoffish."
"What changed?" Bishop cocked his head.
I scratched at my jeans. "He gave me a reason to trust him, I guess."
"You guess?" Jill sounded almost amused.
I rubbed my thumb over my knuckles. "Leon's right. It's nothing personal."
Bishop laughed. "What did he do? To earn your trust?" He put up his hands defensively. "Saved you? Protected you? I think we've done the same. Haven't we?"
"You don't get it." I shook my head. "I trusted Moroe. He was my friend. And he tried to kill me. I lost everything because of him. My family. My home. My freedom. My sense of safety."
I forced myself to stop, steadying my breath. "I can't be so flippant with my trust. I've known you for a week. So no. It's not personal."
Everyone went silent. Even the alcohol wasn't enough to stupefy Bishop now.
Jill turned to me slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I leaned back in the chair.
"You've known Leon a little longer than Moroe. But you trust him without question. How can you be sure? That he's not exactly like Moroe?"
I tipped my head back, setting it against the backrest. "I wasn't sure. Not at first."
Leon didn't react to that. Like he already knew the answer.
The stars above me winked in the darkness. Twinkling like the distant suns might actually be staring back.
"I saw my brother die." The words tumbled out of me abruptly. "That man was looking for me. And I ran. I guess that's what I'm good at."
No one dared to interrupt me now.
"So, when Delacroix chased down my car and drove me off the highway... I knew he was going to kill me. I knew why. I was a witness. A spy that had taken something I shouldn't have."
I closed my eyes, remembering the day I first met Leon. That feeling of dread that pooled in my stomach.
"When I woke up under the rubble of a mafia safe house, I was terrified. Because I realized that... if they wanted me dead, I would be. And then this man shows up. He pulls me out. Rescues me. And I think... how convenient that is. How easy."
Finally, I opened my eyes, looking to Leon first. His face was blank. All hint of emotion carefully tucked away.
"And then I find out he's USSTRATCOM. The same agency Moroe was employed with. The same agency that contracted me. And I thought: this can't be a coincidence."
I swallowed hard, bile burning my throat. "And I was terrified. Because now... I was trapped in this house with this stranger. And if he found out... if he knew who I was. What I had done? He would kill me. He could kill me. I had watched him do it. I knew exactly what he was capable of."
Leon didn't reach for me. Didn't touch me. He remained deathly still now. Like he was afraid if he moved, I might run.
"So I stayed in my room.” I continued. “And I stayed very quiet. And I tried not to give him a reason to dig any deeper."
"But I did." Leon whispered. "And you got mad at me."
There was subtle realization on his face. Like I had handed him missing puzzle pieces.
I nodded. "I was scared. And reckless." My fingers tapped a rhythm against the armrest. "I practically spoon fed you everything you needed so you would arrive at the same conclusion I had. Maybe because I needed to know. Maybe because I couldn't take that not knowing anymore. I don't really know why."
"That kind of stress eats at you." Jill said gently.
Leon exhaled. "You didn't want to wait. If you pointed me in the right direction, that was more predictable."
"Yeah." I ran a hand through my hair. "I guess. Maybe I just wanted you to get it over with."
I averted my gaze again. "I heard you. Every time you came by my room to check on me. I woke up every time I heard your footsteps. Counted how long you would stand in the doorway. Waited for you to walk into the room. I didn't have a weapon. Didn't know what I would do whenever you decided to do it. I knew that I wouldn't be able to fight you off."
A small laugh escaped me. "Which is funny. Because I kept telling myself... I hope he kills me while I'm asleep. So I won't be scared. So I won't feel it. But then... my body never really seemed to fall asleep."
"And now you won't sleep unless he's nearby." Bishop said it casually. Unfiltered. A drunken observation.
My head snapped toward him.
He blinked slowly. "What?"
"Bishop." Jill sighed, sounding exhausted.
"What?" he repeated, gesturing with his beer. "I'm just sayin'. She sleeps fine now."
Heat crawled up my neck. I needed to say something. Rebut. Argue.
My eyes found Leon. Again. Something I couldn't seem to stop myself from doing.
"For good reason. Leon took a bullet for me." The explanation left me before I could think about it. "Before he knew what was going on."
Leon looked away from me.
"No one had told him why he was really protecting me. And when he asked me for the truth, I wouldn't tell him." I exhaled. "And then his own people showed up to kill me. And he could have believed them. He could have let them kill me. But he didn't. He fought for me. Even when he didn't have all the answers."
The next person to speak wasn't Jill or Bishop. It was Lex. Which was almost startling.
"So, that explains it then. He did what we couldn't."
Jill raised a brow.
Lex sighed. "We didn't blindly trust her. Come on, don't give me that look."
"Not giving a look." Jill muttered, tipping her glass to her lips.
"You are." He shook his head, kicking his leg up against the wall. "You said it yourself when she first got here. We didn't know enough about her. It looked suspicious. You and I questioned her for hours—what? A week after she had been tortured?"
Jill postured. "I have to keep my people safe. I don't have the luxury of being sensitive when it comes to keeping this crew alive."
"I'm not arguing that." Lex said gently. "And no one blames you. I'm just saying... it makes sense why Kendra would default back to him and not us."
Jill avoided my eye. "What are you, a therapist now?"
I leaned a fraction closer to Leon. "You guys were just doing your jobs. I get it."
Lex shrugged. "Didn't make it any less scary for you, did it?"
"I wasn't scared."
"Okay. Intimidated."
"That's the same thing."
Lex tilted his head. "Whatever you want to call it. It didn't exactly help build a rapport."
From beside me, Leon leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "So, what? You feel bad?"
"Things could have been handled better." He mumbled, looking away.
Suddenly, Jill leaned forward and smacked Bishop in the arm. "Would you knock it off? It's melting into the fire."
Somehow, I hadn't noticed Bishop holding a charred marshmallow over the flame. He flinched away from her attack, grinning as he lifted the stick out of the fire.
"It's perfect." He stared up at the blackened abomination, a gleeful look in his eye.
"It's gonna taste like ash." Wraith pointed out, smirking from the railing.
"No, it'll taste delicious." He argued.
The marshmallow chose that moment to slide off the stick—and drop directly into the fire.
Bishop frowned. "Well, now it'll probably taste like ash." He used the stick to try to fish it off the log.
"Do not fucking eat that." Wraith chastised him, stepping into the circle and snatching the stick from his hand.
"There's no way you think a cremated marshmallow actually tastes good." Rook shook his head. "Everyone knows toasting it until it's golden is the way to go."
"Yeah if you're a coward." Bishop snorted, reaching for another marshmallow.
Rook snatched the bag. "No. You don't get anymore. Save some for Kendra."
"I was the only one doing that!" Bishop turned and reached for the bag, trying to snatch it back. "I saved six. Do you really think she's going to eat six?"
Rook held it out of reach, looking over at me. "Do you want six s'mores?"
"I only need one. It's fine." I tried to hide my smile.
"This idiot has already had like four." Rook argued. "He doesn't need five more."
"He'd probably just incinerate them anyway." Leon kept his eyes on his own marshmallow, pretending not to be amused.
"Give them to me." Lex snatched the bag away from Rook, reaching for one immediately.
"Hey!" Bishop got up from his chair. "Those are for her!"
"She doesn't mind." Lex tossed the bag back to Rook. "Right, Junie?"
Suddenly, all laughter ceased, everyone going still. Even Lex froze, his smile vanishing.
"Kendra." He corrected himself quickly.
Silence. The fire crackled in the awkwardness.
"Who's Junie?" I tried to laugh it off.
Lex straightened, throwing the marshmallow at Bishop. "You know what... I think I'm gonna have a drink after all."
Everyone watched as he turned away. No one said a word when he ducked down the stairs. Waves crashed against the hull of the ship, filling the silence.
I looked to Jill, far more gentle when I again asked, "who's Junie?"
She pressed her glass to her lips. "Story for another time." Then she finished her drink.
Some part of me wanted to argue. Before I could, heavy footsteps echoed from the direction Lex had disappeared into. I looked to the stairs in time to see Owen step on the deck, two glasses of cider in hand.
He went to Wraith first, handing over the glass and mumbling something only she could hear. She turned her back to the crew, whispering something and patting him gently on the shoulder.
A moment later, Owen crossed over to me.
"Here you go, kiddo." He pressed the cider into my hand. The glass warmed my hand instantly. "Sorry it took so long."
"Good things take time." I assured him, offering my kindest smile.
"Aye. They do." The orange wires of his beard hid his lips, but I could tell he smiled anyway.
Then his gaze found Leon. "Somethin' came up, actually."
Leon sat up, snapping to attention. "What happened?"
"We had a message come through." He lowered himself into the chair beside Leon. "On comms. The U.S. army has a helicopter en route from a navy vessel. They've been tryin' to catch up to us. Stoppin' at every vessel they find."
"Is it Piers?" He asked immediately.
"I think so." Owen tugged at his beard in thought.
"What did they say? Is everything okay?"
The Captain folded his arms, a small smirk lifting his lips. "They're fine. Said they're delivering something."
With a breathy laugh, Leon relaxed back into his chair. "Didn't know the U.S. army acted as FedEx."
"What could they possibly be delivering?" Jill asked.
"Information." I mumbled, mostly to myself. I thought no one had heard, but both Owen and Jill looked at me.
"Must be." Owen agreed. "They wanted me to confirm if both of ya were still on the ship."
"Both of us?"
"You and Leon."
Leon snorted. "What, like we just decided to take a leisure swim back to shore?"
Owen suppressed a laugh. "A lot of people are lookin' for both of ya. I'm surprised we haven't gotten a visit from the BSAA's Air Force yet."
"How far out?" Jill interjected.
"An hour. Maybe less." Owen looked out at the ocean, as if he were expecting the helicopter to appear right then and there.
"A bit late for a visit." Rook noted.
Owen looked up at him. "It is. So they'll be stayin' with us. A day. Maybe two. Until the navy can refuel their helicopter. And you lot will be respectful and cordial. I don't want any of ya pickin' any fights." He kept his gaze on Rook when he said that.
Rook lifted his hands defensively. "I have never been an asshole... without reason." An almost smile.
Bishop barked with laughter, throwing his head back obnoxiously. "You're a goddamn liar!"
Rook smacked him upside the head, nearly toppling the Lieutenant from his chair.
"Hey!" Bishop turned around, punching Rook in the arm.
"Ow, you fucker," Rook shoved his head down. "You hit harder when you're drunk."
Bishop flailed, reaching back and trying to land a hit.
"Knock it off." Wraith and Jill said at the same time.
Leon chuckled softly beside me. Only loud enough for me to hear. I purposefully kept my gaze off of him.
He reached over me, shoulder nearly bumping my chest. I tilted back, giving him space to grab the chocolate he was reaching for. When he moved back to his side, his elbow bumped my knee. He rubbed it immediately, like he had actually hurt me.
"Sorry," he mumbled quietly.
All I could do was nod, suddenly unable to speak.
His attention returned to the others, commenting on something Rook said. Something I had missed.
The crew laughed at whatever joke he made.
I smiled anyway, despite having no idea what anyone had said.
My attention had drifted again. Back to him. Every time I managed to drag my thoughts elsewhere, they circled back.
The way he sat. The way he laughed. The way he absentmindedly rolled the stick between his fingers. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.
And no matter how hard I fought to focus my gaze onto anything else—somehow, it would always come back to him. As if my eyes were made to find him.
I was on my feet. Abrupt and careless. Not entirely sure why I was even standing. All eyes turned to me, questioning and confused.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "I'm gonna..."
What? What was I going to do? What was I even doing?
"I need to use the bathroom." I mumbled, ducking my head and practically running toward the lower deck.
Their chatter followed me. Lex brushed past me on the staircase, saying nothing as he returned to the upper deck. My legs kept moving. Further. Past the shower and bunks. Down the corridor. Past the kitchen and mess room. Farther than I had explored before.
I found a staircase I'd never encountered before. Considered for the briefest moment turning around. Ignoring the rational side of my brain, I continued down the stairs anyway.
Somehow, it hadn't occurred to me that there might be anything else below the lower deck. Now, all I wanted to know was what was down here. Exploring was a safer thing to focus on.
At the bottom of the stairs, I was stopped by a large metal door. I half expected it to be locked, but when I pushed on the handle, it gave under my weight and scraped open.
I stumbled into the room, taking it in.
It was massive. Larger than anything else I'd seen on the ship so far. Every wall was lined with something. Guns. Ammo. Explosives. Gear. And in the center of the room? Lifeboats, shrink-wrapped pallets, and forklifts. It hardly filled the space. There was enough room down here to fit an aircraft.
Every one of my footsteps echoed through the room. The only sound aside from the waves crashing against the walls around me. The room swallowed everything else. I could no longer hear the chatter on the upper deck. Couldn't hear their laughter or drunken jokes. It was nothing but quiet. Calm.
It was difficult to explain why I didn't turn around and leave. I lowered myself to the ground instead, sitting alone on the floor and staring up at the weaponry around me. Wondering how long I could stay down here before someone came to find me.
Before Leon came to find me. Because he always did. Because if I was missing for too long, he would worry. Which was the last thing I wanted to do to him.
Five minutes. That's how much time I would give myself. And then I would go back up. Somewhere Leon could find me if he came looking.
There was only one problem: there was no way to tell time down here. No clocks or watches. So I'd have to make my best guess.
I closed my eyes, listening to the ringing silence. Enjoying it a little too much. A knot loosened in my chest. Realizing that, for the first time in nearly eight weeks, I didn't have someone attached to my hip. No one knew where I was.
My next thought made guilt bloom in my stomach. The isolation was relieving. Not because Leon was overbearing or difficult to be around. Just because... privacy was a luxury I didn't have anymore. Through no fault of his own. He was just doing his job.
And I had been very good. Listened to everything he told me. Didn't complain. Didn't make his job difficult.
So maybe... it was okay to enjoy these five minutes.
I dropped onto my back, laying on the floor without a care in the world. Staring at the ceiling that seemed a mile high. Losing myself to thought.
Thinking about him. Even when I tried not to.
For weeks, I had convinced myself this was infatuation born from proximity. And maybe in the beginning it was. But it was getting harder to deny. Especially now that we had slept together. Something we still hadn't talked about.
Which might have been my fault. I'd been so shut down the last two days. And Leon, being Leon, would never force me to have an uncomfortable conversation when I couldn't even get myself out of bed. No matter how much he might want answers. It wasn't his way.
He'd asked earlier if I wanted to have that conversation now. And I'd told him no. Because deep down, I think I already know what his answer would be. But I didn't know what mine would be.
I was attracted to him. That goes without question. But attraction wasn't the issue. Not entirely. It was this feeling. Whatever it was, it was tangled and messy and uncertain.
Do I love him? Yes. But there were so many categories of love and I wasn't sure which one he fell into.
I counted them in my head, defining each from memory. Storge, Philia, Eros. Familial, platonic, and romantic. Agape, Pragma, Ludus. Universal, enduring, playful.
Love was never something I held in reservation. I loved Angela. Loved Hayden. Loved Diana and Rob. I even loved Avery, which I could confidently say was platonic. That same confidence wasn't present with Leon.
It would be easy to categorize it as romantic simply because we'd been intimate. But if there was one thing I'd had painful lessons in, it was that sex didn't mean someone inherently loved you.
Even if we did. Even if this was that... what could we even do with it? We could love each other as much as we wanted. It wouldn't change anything. Strategic Command would still take him from me. The system would still take me from him. There was no other way this would end.
That wasn't even the worst of it. If we somehow weren't separated after all of this, there was a more terrible reality.
My life would forever be this. Viruses. Immunity. Regeneration. Labs and wars and politics. That was what I was destined for. Every moment. From the second Moroe injected me with that syringe, that was the forced trajectory.
This was Leon's job. But at the end of the day, he could go home. He could escape it for a few hours every day. But if I were a part of his life? He never would.
He deserved peace from this. He'd earned it.
So I could love him. Maybe. But from afar. For him, I could. I was good at that. Loving. Not being loved. That was who I was. Always, at the end of it all. No matter what was done to me. I still loved Moroe despite what he'd done. Still loved my biological parents regardless of the abuse and betrayal.
That's who I was. That's who I was. That's who I was.
"I don't think you're supposed to be down here."
I jumped, looking up toward the door immediately. Leon stood at the bottom step just outside the hangar, head tilted gently. A soft smile lingered on his lips.
I scrambled upright, brushing my curls from my face. "I'm sorry. I was just about to go back up. I didn't want you to worry about me—"
He held up a hand. "You're good. I wasn't worried." A pause. "Well, not too much. You were easy enough to find."
A breathless laugh escaped me. "How did you know I was down here?"
Slowly, he stepped further into the room, crossing his arms. "Well, you weren't in the bathroom. And your room was empty. I checked the wardrobe to be sure." A little smirk found his face at that. Pleased with himself.
"So we're joking about that now?" I laughed lightly, relaxing a little.
He watched me, unable to force his smile downward. Then he glanced to the door. "You want me to go? Seemed like you were having a moment."
I exhaled sharply, leaning back on my forearms. "No. It's okay. Probably better I don't think right now."
He didn't respond to that. Not at first. Something was happening behind those eyes. Thoughtful and careful. Without a word, he crossed over to me and slowly sat down beside me on the floor.
I watched him. Waiting for him to ask. Waiting for him to try to comfort me. He could always tell when something was wrong.
His head fell backward, eyes finding the ceiling. "It's quiet down here."
I almost laughed, not expecting something so simple and pointless. Relieved by it.
"Yeah. It is. It's nice."
He nodded, but said nothing. We listened to the ocean crashing against the hull. A steady rhythm. Syncing with the sway of the ship.
My eyes found him. This time, he caught me staring.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For today.”
His brow twitched. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“You know. Distracting me. Being ridiculous and… playful. It was nice. It helped.”
He hummed. “Sure. But, I mean, I was serious.”
I raised a brow. “Yeah? The bunny socks?”
“They were a hazard.”
“Pushing Bishop?”
“He compromised the mission.”
“Carrying me?”
He smirked. “You’re clumsy. Because of the socks.”
“Right, right. My mistake. How dare I accuse you of something so terrible.”
“You’re forgiven.” He said flatly.
Snickering, I turned my gaze on something else. The wall. The weapons. The gear. Pretending to study them.
Leon shifted. For a second, I thought he might reach for me. Brush his fingers across my shoulder like he always did when he wanted me to look at him. This time, he didn’t. He kept his hands firmly planted to the floor.
“Is it okay… if we talk about something?”
His tone was husky. I knew that tone. The lightness was gone. I didn’t dare laugh at him.
“I thought we were talking?”
He let out a breath. “No. I mean… you said something earlier. And it—I don’t… want to pretend it wasn’t said.”
I drew my legs into my chest, wrapping an arm around my knees. “Okay.”
His jaw tightened, eyes tracking my every move. He draped an arm over his own knee, trying to appear relaxed. Failing.
“I know there was a time where you didn’t trust me.” The words were gentle. “That first week we were together.”
I knew exactly what he was going to talk about now. Immediately, I shook my head. “Don’t.”
He sighed. “I scared you. More than I thought I did.” A frustrated laugh. “You’re really good at that. Hiding whatever you’re feeling. It’s annoying.”
I laughed warily. “Sorry.”
“I get it. I mean, I know why you do it.” He shrugged, looking down at the space between our hands. “I like to pretend I can read you. But I didn’t know. About that.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
“I know.” He paused, then our eyes met. “I’m sorry. That I was practically terrorizing you.”
“You weren’t.”
“Not on purpose.” He tipped his head back. “But I… I feel bad. About scaring you like that.”
“You shouldn’t.” I held his gaze. “That fear didn’t even have anything to do with you. I mean, all you had done for me at that time was help me. Save me. Protect me. What else could you have done?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed at his knuckles. “Something. There had to be something else I could have done.”
The words made my heart ache. With caution, I scooted closer to him. He remained still. Didn’t pull away even when I leaned over. Even when I pressed myself into his side.
“I’m sorry I told you that.” I breathed the words quietly. “That was cruel.”
“Cruel.” He echoed with a disbelieving laugh. His hand found the back of my head, tender as he threaded his fingers through my hair. “You’re a lot of things. But cruel is not one of them.”
“I shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t necessary.”
“It was. It was the truth.”
I let out a breath. “Not every truth needs to be spoken.”
“Withholding honesty isn’t mercy.”
That stunned me into silence. I didn’t have a rebuttal. Not because his argument was objectively true. It wasn’t. But it was true for this conversation. And some awful part of me knew he was also talking about more than just this.
Maybe he wasn’t even just talking about me. My tendency to hide. Maybe he was even talking about himself. Because we were both guilty of the same sin.
It was why we were both still stuck in this limbo of uncertainty. Neither of us were brave enough to bridge the gap. To say what needed to be said.
Funny how we could face true horrors. Blood and death and torture. But an honest conversation was what we shied away from.
I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always—”
“Yeah yeah,” I cut him off quickly. “I get it. Shut up.”
A breathy laugh warmed the crown of my head. “Yes, ma’am.”
From outside the ship, a new sound disrupted the ocean’s lullaby. Choppy. Loud.
A helicopter.
It was already here.
Leon looked toward the nearest porthole. “Guess that’s our cue to leave.”
I pressed my face into his neck. “One more minute.”
There was a pause. Then his other hand slipped around my waist, holding me against him.
