"No! No, I - " Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh's hand, and loses it. "Cato!" She screeches. "Cato!"
"Clove!" I hear Cato's answer, but he's too far away, I can tell that much, to do her any good. What was he doing? Trying to get to Foxface or Peeta? Or had he been lying in wait for Thresh and just badly misjudged his location?
Drink your ice cold lies
Go try to forget about me
Don't you look so fine
Hands up and on your knees?
Self Destruct, Evanescence
She’d tried. Really, she had.
Their tryst had been a one-time-only kind of fling, born of the thrill of the forbidden and tension that needed to be unleashed.
She’d done her best to forget it ever occurred, and she knew he had endeavored to do the same.
Nikita had never fully considered the repercussions until she’d spotted Ari on a fateful evening, drink in hand, looking solemn and listless while staring out of the window like he was reconsidering every life choice that he'd made up to that moment.
He’d noticed her immediately, but said nothing, just disappeared into the shadows like it had never happened, so she’d attempted to put the incident behind her.
Then he showed up in the back of her car one night – his normally impeccable appearance rumpled and handsome features uncharacteristically haggard – and then turned himself in to her.
Just her. He would speak to no one else.
Her mind whirled erratically while she carted the former Gogol operative off to an area with better privacy. Her boss undoubtedly expected her to extract information out of their prisoner by whatever means necessary, and yet the idea of torturing him seemed incomprehensible. It was the last thing she wished to do. And yet…
Ari barely flinched when she shoved him back against a pillar roughly, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. “What’s your game, Tasarov?”
The striking blue depths of his gaze glinted defiantly before he leaned in, the already resonant timbre of his voice lowering further. “Of course you’d consider my feelings for you a puzzle to solve, Nikita.”
“Feelings?!” she scoffed, loosening her hold on his collar a fraction. “There are no feelings, Ari. We slept together once and it was –
“Amazing?”
“Wrong,” she corrected, leveling her best glare in his direction.
He paused and then brought one hand up to cup her cheek boldly, his expression softening. “If it was so wrong, why are you pulling me closer?”
She hadn’t realized she was doing so until his chest brushed against hers, an electric current of heat sparking instantly.
“Stop it,” she warned, her fingers twisting into the expensive material that shielded his deceptively powerful build from her view.
“Not until you admit to the fact that what you feel for me is stronger than the animosity that this place has somehow cursed you with.”
She peered up at him, eyes widening. “What?”
“You aren’t supposed to be a caged bird, Nikita. You’re supposed to fly. Division is draining you.”
She couldn’t form a protest, because he was right. The months spent rebuilding the place that had molded her into someone she’d never wanted to be had in fact taken a toll. Her romance with Michael ended almost as quickly as it started and her friendships with the others were strained at best. She was thoroughly exhausted from the stress of trying to keep her life together.
As if sensing her despair, Ari whirled and switched their positions, lifting her up effortlessly before claiming her lips in a desperate, unyielding kiss.
Nikita moaned, hands scrambling to push his suit jacket off his broad shoulders, locking her legs around his middle as their embrace turned frantic.
Clothing was rapidly torn away, her nails catching in the soft hair that dusted his chest as he joined with her thanks to a single, perfectly timed thrust.
The fragile threads of her control snapped completely when he eased them into a familiar symphony of motion. It was almost as if they’d never stopped this in the first place. He fit so seamlessly, and even when their movements turned reckless, those eyes of his didn’t leave hers for a second. It was like staring into a calm, azure ocean, which beckoned and then cradled her gently in spite of their frenzied pace.
His mouth lingered over the hollow of her throat, her pulse skyrocketing when he managed, somehow, to bury deeper and send her careening right over the edge into oblivion.
It was only instants later that he followed her.
“This was a mistake,” Nikita muttered, her breath feathering across Ari’s clavicle while she coiled naturally into the warmth he provided.
They’d retreated to one of the sparring mats that lined the floor and were lying in a mess of tangled limbs and spare blankets they had located in an abandoned storage locker.
“Once would be considered a mistake, Kita. Five times would better be classified as an addiction.”
She laughed sharply, though any bitterness had long since left the premises. Instead, she designed idle figures through his chest hair. “Then it’s a beautiful mistake, but it’s not like you make it easy to resist you, Ar.”
“That might be by design,” he admitted, twisting in order to pin her beneath him, running his hands reassuringly down her shoulders, then her sides, his touch eventually ghosting over the phoenix tattoo on her hip. “You feel better though?”
“Much.” She shivered, though not from the chill in the air, and drew him near for a grateful kiss. “Did you mean what you said earlier? That I’m a bird that’s trapped in the cage Division crafted?”
“I did, but it wasn’t meant to hurt you, my love. I simply could tell that your wings had been clipped.”
“You aren’t wrong. This place…there’s an evil here that I could never quite shake. Ryan and Michael want to change it to do good, but I don’t know if they can.”
“Do you want to help them?”
“I thought I did. Now I’m not sure of anything except the fact that I need you, Ari. You’re my anchor.”
His gaze brightened at her admission, and he nuzzled their noses together. “Then, the solution is simple. Run away with me. Leave this place behind and we can start fresh.”
“Can our fresh start be on a remote island somewhere?” she murmured, already feeling the urge to lose herself in him again.
“Whatever you want,” he ducked his head to press light kisses to her jawline.
She pondered the offer for another second. “It’s probably a good idea to leave them a note to be polite and give them the intel I worked so hard to wrangle out of you.”
His laughter rumbled against her neck. “Arguably the most enjoyable method of interrogation I’ve experienced.”
“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes and turned to trap him against the mat, rolling her hips provocatively and twining their fingers together. “You’ve won. I’ll run off with you. I just want to leave a parting gift of sorts, to the people that matter still.”
His eyes shone in understanding, and when he embraced her again, it was clear that he accepted her conditions.
