Project Genesis (3 page)

“Hold on,
hellcat.”

A promise. His
words were a promise that had Helen believing in him. If nothing else, Vin
stood by his promises. Maybe things would have gone differently had she made
him promise to let her know when he wanted to walk away from what they shared.
But she didn’t and he’d left her without so much as an ‘it’s been real’.
Another sign that while she excelled in the workplace, she was a dismal failure
in her love life.

As before, silence
reigned on the call and Helen knew he’d muted it. Multiple times if she guessed
right. Hiding things from her no doubt but she couldn’t work up the necessary
anger. At this point, she wanted to go home, have a latte and snuggle under her
covers wishing today never happened. Unable to do that yet, Helen wrapped an
arm around her waist and waited. Life, she had a feeling, was about to change
for everyone.

Chapter 3

Vin sent a
chilling look at Curtis. “I don’t give a damn. Get us through.”

They’d reached the
eleventh floor but this area sustained more structural damage and half of the
caved in ceiling blocked the door to Helen’s floor. Vin eyed piles of tile,
concrete and drywall. As point man, Curtis laid waste to the bulk of the debris
in their path draining his strength. Telekinetics drained energy faster than
the other skills they’d acquired and Curtis’ face showed the strain of getting
them through this far. 

Because he knew
him better than the others, Harkum sensed Vin’s impatience and stepped forward.
“Let me try.” The big man began lifting the larger pieces of fallen plaster and
tile. The others joined in leaving nothing in the way except a hole in the
floor from an eight foot beam which revealed a dented door with the green
number twelve displayed. This door must have fallen one level down during the
attack.

Peering over the
four foot gap revealed exposed edges and sharp metal extensions to land a world
of hurt on anyone who fell through to the tenth floor. Curtis stretched over,
torso leaning far out and tried the handle which broke in his large hand. His
expression would have been comical in other circumstances.

Unable to control
the rage and the obstacles keeping him away, Vin turned his back. “Christ.” He
pinched his nose before turning around to face the calm expressions from his
men. “Kick it down.” He wanted nothing more than to get to Helen and reassure
himself of her safety. Such feelings were uncommon for him on a mission but
this was a woman he’d buried himself in not some faceless stranger. Vin
couldn’t shake the need strumming through his veins. ‘Get to Helen’, repeated
like a mantra in his head.

Curtis stepped
back, allowing the strongest of their group through. Harkum lifted his size
fifteens and gave the door a sound kick. The resounding thud sent blood pumping
through Vin’s veins. Harkum kicked over and over until the metal screeched and
caved. Using their enhanced strength, his man cocked back his leg and struck
hard and fast. The door gave way to tilt on its side like a drunken sailor.

“Fuck, yeah.”
Bransen cheered, green eyes blazing.

“Are we clear,
Curtis?” Vin needed to move. Adrenaline and worry rode him hard. Standing still
while he waited for confirmation had him vibrating. The soft sound of Helen
breathing in his ear didn’t help. But the safety of his men came first.

His scout leaped
across the dangerous pit balancing precariously on the ten-inch gap of floor
space between him and a good twenty foot fall. Curtis placed both palms on the
frame of the door and closed his eyes. They all waited with baited breath as
the blond man bowed his head and focused. To a stranger it might look like he
prayed. But Alpha Squad trusted the enhanced senses they’d all emerged from the
government study possessing.

Curtis’ ability to
mentally visualize what the eye couldn’t see saved their necks too many times
to discount. Each of them was enhanced. Some skills they shared and others
specific to a man. Curtis aced what they referred to as long range viewing.

He winced in pain
from the effort and dropped his hands. “All clear, sir. Same damage as on the
lower level but no downed wires or flooding on this floor.”

“Roger that.” Vin
waved his men forward. “Let’s move.”

They proceeded
through the ruined door easily hurdling over air and space. On the other side,
the eleventh floor sustained visible damage. Boots clomped over debris. Smoke
saturated the air along with the heavy scent of burned metal. Vin scanned with
a mindful eye for bodies here as well. No one, thank God. War didn’t make him
immune to death. Thankfully, they only passed three unfortunate souls between
the stairway and lobby. Innocent victims whose lives were cut short.

The atrium of the
floor appeared empty. The men shared a concerned glance. Vin unmuted his ear
com. “You still with me, hellcat?”

Her pause was
slight. “Yes.”

Vin’s grin split
his cheeks at her bravery. He nodded and pointed down the carpeted hall. The
lights still flickered on by some fluke. His hands signaled for only Curtis,
Harkum and Bransen to follow while Nathan, Zander and Rock held their position
by the door and watched their six.

They hot footed it
down the hall passing open doors to empty offices. Vin checked each one for
signs of survivors who hadn’t made it out in the first wave during the attack.
Furniture lay turned on its side from the frenzy flight of its occupants.
“Clear.”

Vin banged his
fists on the only closed door on their way. No answer. The knob turned easily
in his hand, revealing a storage room with supplies spilled across the floor of
the five foot space. “Clear.” He backed out and continued down the hall.

Helen’s office
ended cattycorner where the long hall stopped. An odd statue in a four foot
rendition of a rearing horse blocked their path. The reason she was trapped in
her office. Anger surged as Vin’s booted foot gave it a determined shove and
the gold and black monstrosity skidded out of their way to rest against the
wall.

Her door stood
open, brass nameplate gleaming. Director of Sales Operations in black
lettering. Aside from the damage, her office was as he remembered from the one
time he’d picked her up from work when her car needed work and she’d reluctantly
accepted Vin’s offer for a ride home. No light shown from the interior but Vin
knew Helen was here. She said she wouldn’t move and he didn’t question why he
automatically trusted her.

Slowly, Vin
crossed the threshold, his men behind him. Silence had its own sound and his
muscles tensed in readiness. “Helen. Come out, baby.” The steady hold on his
weapon didn’t betray the racing of Vin’s pulse. Paintings of wild crashing
waves against a shoreline hung awkwardly from the wall. Each frame depicted a
storm raging similar to his hellcat when angered. A green vase with fancy
flowers lay on its side dripping water in a puddle on the gray carpet and the
all glass table he’d once admired now covered the floor in deadly shards.

Where was she?
Scanning the spacious area, Vin ignored the cracked bookshelf sprawled across
the floor, black leather arm chairs rested upside down. He noticed Helen’s
sleek silver cell phone resting on the top of her black desk. He prepared for
anything but not the warm bundle that leaped his way.

“Vincent.”

Vin had seconds to
toss his armed G32 to Harkum who caught it reflexively as Helen slammed into
him arms latching around his waist and face planted in his chest. His arms
enfolded her carefully in case she’d lied about injuries.

Laying his face
against the top of her head, Vin murmured soothing words of reassurance and the
band in his chest loosened. Her shoulders shook but she didn’t cry, merely
tightened her hold as if she’d never let go. Vin inhaled her familiar
fragrance. Some fruity scent she paid a bundle for and came in the tiniest
glass bottle he’d ever seen. Shit, he’d missed her

“You’re alright,
Helen.” He whispered the words aloud and finally she nodded, pulling back
enough for him to get a good look at her face. Long brown hair which was never
out of place hung in a lopsided ponytail. Dirt streaked her face and her cheeks
carried a tinge of red. Beautiful brown eyes welled up with tears.

Unexplained
emotions tumbled like blocks in his chest. Unable to put words to what he felt
but needing to touch her once more, Vin raised his hand to run a thumb along
the familiar scar bisecting her right eyebrow. A childhood accident from a
swing set she’d pushed which had unexpectedly slammed back and hit her face. He
remembered her grimacing as she retold the tale.
‘I duck faster now,’
she’d huffed on a laugh as if to downplay the scar.

The small inch
long mark added to the perfection of her face in his opinion. Bumps and bruises
served as a visible reminder of the path and choices people made throughout
their life. Some good, some bad but never to be regretted. He’d learned some of
his best lessons from the worst choices he’d ever made.

Like blowing off
Helen Scott because of the stupid experiments he’d agreed to let the government
perform on him. He should have manned up and ended things face to face instead
of acting like a dick.

“Need to evac,
sir. Asap.”

Harkum’s words
lent him the strength to completely remove himself from Helen’s embrace. He
ignored the hurt expression she managed to mask in a split second. Regret
pounded a rhythmic beat in his head. Vin had never asked for anything in his
life. Circumstances taught him better but being this close to her filled him
with uncontrollable yearning. The only thing he’d ever wanted was the one thing
he couldn’t have.

“You’re sure
you’re alright?” This was her last chance to fess up before they made the trek
back the way they came. Her dark hair shook briskly in the negative. Vin
accepted her answer.

His brave girl. He
expected no less.

Now that worry
stopped gnawing at him, he took in her condition. A quick look from head to toe
catalogued her appearance. Vin could attest to the softness of the silk pink
blouse she wore. His fingers twitched from the memory only seconds old. Her
skirt was typical Helen Scott. Tight enough to highlight her curvy ass without
being obscene. It stopped inches above her knees, advertising killer legs that
gripped a man tight when he plowed between her thighs. His dick jerked at the
reminder. Vin shook his head at the impractical four-inch heels she wore. The
killer stilettos explained why her normally short stature easily met his chest
at eye level.

“I’m fine,
Vincent,” she stressed.

More than fine. He
must have looked like a fool standing there. Vin snapped out of his fascination
with seeing her for the first time in months. “Tell me you have something else
here to wear.” He waved a hand in a purely guy gesture at her clothing.

Helen smiled.
“Actually, I keep gym clothes here.” Her cheeks flushed. “I haven’t found time
to use them.”

As if she needed
to workout. “Good. I need you to change. I can spare five minutes tops then we
gotta ghost.”

Now, her eyes
glowed with relief and fear. Delicate hands brushed nervously down the sides of
her skirt. She looked anywhere but at him. Awkward in light of the way they’d
ended? He couldn’t fathom. Her gaze landed on the guys with him.

“Of course. Five
minutes should be sufficient.”

She hurried over
to a closet blocked by one of those tall fake plants with large green leaves
used to create a home like atmosphere. Why anyone would want work to feel like
home escaped him. Her hip shoved it to the side as she bent over to reach low
in the closet. The gray skirt tightened and moved up an unnecessary inch. One
of his men groaned. Their expressions collectively cleared too quickly for Vin
to identify who needed the beat down.

When Helen pulled
out a designer gym bag in bright pink, Curtis chuckled and Vin shot him a dark
look. His man blanked his expression instantly. Pink gym bag? Who made that
shit? Then he caught sight of the triangle logo on the front with the letters
LS&G. Her company. Helen hesitated with the bag loosely in her hands. Her
teeth nibbled on her bottom lip. No sign of the confident woman who lead a team
of top developers in the industry.

“I can change in
the bathroom down the hall.”

“No.” No telling
what damage existed in the rest of this place. Vin wasn’t letting her out of
his sight. “She needs five.” His men instantly headed for the door. Harkum
paused to hand him back his weapon closing the door behind him.

Helen wasted no
time. Her fingers flew to the buttons on her top as she began undressing. No
hint of modesty in his presence. His body took notice. How could he not? Vin
tapped the ear com, disconnecting him from the team.

She dropped the
shirt to the floor unmindful of the flash she provided him. A lacy black bra
barely kept things in place. Vin swallowed, watching the swell of her breasts
as she bent and twisted to unzip the skirt and soon it joined the pink bit of
silk on the floor.

Dressed in only
heels, black lace panties and bra, she presented every man’s wet dream come to
life. Memories of a similar strip tease under different circumstances bombarded
him. Vin adjusted himself in the black cargo pants, drawing her attention.

 “I assume you can
talk now?” Her finger pointed at her ear before she leaned over and unzipped
the bag to pull out black and blue clothing.

Vin froze, his
eyes drawn to the arch of her spine when she kicked off the heels and slid her
slender limbs into black athletic pants. Pants that left no secrets by any
stretch of the imagination. Cotton inched lovingly up and molded to her butt
and thighs. Another triangle etched in blue discretely placed at her hip
denoted this as more of her company’s brand. When she stretched to pull the
blue top over her head, Vin choked. The mounds of her breasts rose
tantalizingly close to the edges of those very thin lacy cups.

He struggled
between wishing for the lush bounty to spill over and praying the flimsy
material could actually contain them. Helen smoothed the blue material down her
torso and the moment was lost. Vin shifted his weapon from his right hand to
his left and leaned his hip against her desk.

“What’s to talk
about?” No matter what he felt, Vin couldn’t let her back in.

She paused in a
perfect squat, highlighting a round ass to put on socks then reached in the bag
for a pair of black sneakers. “Really, Vincent? That’s how you want to play
it?” Not giving him an opportunity to answer, she continued. “I thought we had
something good going. Did I miss a clue?”

Not a good time
for this conversation yet the glare she shot his way as she laced up the shoes
guaranteed she’d wait him out for an answer. “No. You didn’t miss anything.
Stuff came up.” Could he sound any more lame? “Work stuff.” Totally blowing
this. He finished on a sigh. “Not you.” Never Helen.