Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) (12 page)

The voices behind her instantly silenced.

“Who’s that?” the unfamiliar man’s voice sounded behind her. Yet, she was sure she’d heard it before.

Slowly, she turned, unable to hear her own breathing over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

Jimmy Disik stood before her, a fierce frown on his face. His suit was crisp and pressed. His dark hair slicked back. And his eyes cold.

“Hello, Jimmy,” Christine squeaked out. “Er, Mr. Disik,” she corrected herself.

“Yes?” said the older Mr. Disik, stepping out from behind his son, a beatific smile on his face.

Christine stared between them, her mind at a loss as to what to do.

“Get. Out.” Paul growled. “Run if you have to.”

“Do you need me to come in? Just say the word. It’s manicure, remember?” Zack’s voice was urgent.

Instead, Christine smiled. “It’s the end of my shift today,” she told the older man kindly.

He blinked. “Already? But you just got here.”

Hating herself, Christine shook her head. “No, Mr. Disik. I’ve been here all day. It’s nearly dinner time now.”

He blinked, staring at her. Then, his smile wobbled as his brow pulled down in a confused frown. “Really?” he sounded almost frightened, and Christine almost gave in. “I could have sworn…”

Christine’s heart broke. Had she really resorted to gaslighting this sweet old man? What was worth seeing that terrified look on his face as he realised his memory was failing him?

He looked to his son, and Jimmy placed a comforting hand on his father’s arm. “Why don’t we have a seat, father?” Some warmth entered the son’s eyes as he looked at his father.

“I think…that’s best,” said older Mr. Disik. The two turned, Jimmy leading his father into the front room. Christine took a few steps forward, the front door beckoning her away from this scene of pain.

She was level with the doorway where Mr. Disik and his son had disappeared, so close to the exit.

“Christine?” Jimmy’s voice stopped her.

“Yes?” she asked, suddenly remembering her precarious position in this house at the odd note in his voice.

“How goes your search?” he asked from where he sat by his father.

“Search?” Christine asked.

“Through the files. Make any sense of it yet?”

Christine smiled, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Getting there,” she told him with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

“Jimmy,” said Mr. Disik with a tremulous voice, reaching for his son. Jimmy turned to his father.

Christine used the opportunity to flee.

Chapter 15

Paul radiated with tension all the way back to Zack’s drop-off point. He’d barely said a word after she’d fled back to the car, his silence eloquent. Night had fallen while they drove, deepening the shadows in the cabin of the car. Paul’s mood followed the way of the light, darkening the longer they were on the road.

Now, as Zack leaned into the back seat to collect his gadgets—including the camera nestled between Christine’s breasts, which she’d disentangled for him—Paul seemed to let go of the worst of the tension.

“Thanks, man,” he said to Zack. “Appreciate it.”

“Any time,” Zack replied, seeming to mean it.

“I’ll tell Duncan about this mission. Let him know you were an innocent party.”

Zack cracked a smile, sparking amusement in his eyes. “Duncan’s not an idiot. He’ll know I went along willingly.”

Paul rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree.

“Thank you for your help today. I felt much safer knowing you were right there ready to rush in,” Christine said.

A blush crept up on Zack’s face, and he looked adorably bashful for such a big, intimidating man. “My pleasure, ma’am.”

Paul scowled. Christine smiled.

Zack cast one last look over his gear and then straightened, pulling the heavy cases out of the car as if they were full of feathers. He slammed the door shut, then tapped lightly on the side of the car to indicate that he was clear.

Paul pulled away, still frowning.

“What’s with your mood? Everything worked out perfectly,” she asked him.

He eased into traffic. “Only through sheer luck,” he grumbled.

“That was always going to be the case.”

“That’s not how I do missions.”

“I might have gotten a little frightened, but I wasn’t in any danger. Not at any point.”

“You don’t know that,” he griped. “For all you know, Mr. Disik is the mastermind behind all this, and his son an accomplice.”

Christine laughed at the absurdity, and Paul unbent enough to crack a smile. He weaved through traffic, checking his rear view mirror.

Paul sighed. “I know it turned out all right, and I’m glad. But had that been anyone other than Jimmy that came…” he trailed off.

“I know.”

“And he might be in league with whoever’s after you. Might give them a tipoff that you were there.” He checked the rearview mirror again, and frowned. “Might already have,” he corrected.

“What?” Christine asked.

“We’ve got a tail,” he replied.

Tension exploded in Christine, as much a product of the afternoon’s work as the correct situation. “I thought you said there was no one watching the house?” Her voice was too loud for the small cabin of the car.

“They might have been good. And the tail is pretty hard to spot, so they are clearly professionals. They are hanging back, just like last time.”

“Oh dear,” Christine muttered. She turned, trying to catch sight of them. But the only thing visible was the headlights of the cars behind them.

“It’s all right. We’ll lose them.” Paul’s black mood disappeared as he tried to reassure her.

“How?”

He waited a beat. “Like this.”

Spun the wheel of the car almost violently, taking a last minute turn. He gunned the engine, pressing his hand down on the controls to crush the accelerator to the floor. He was in perfect control of the car as he zipped between other vehicles, sliding around corners without a wobble. Even so, he continually glanced behind him.

Even in her panic, Christine could recognise the mastery he was displaying. Paul was much better at this than Christine had been. His turns were perfect, and he never got caught behind slow-moving cars. He seemed to always be thinking five steps ahead.

“You must be great at chess,” she muttered.

“I never learned,” he replied. His voice was calm, belying the drama of the situation. He sped around another bend, crossed a light just turning red, and took another turn.

He looked in the rearview mirror and eased off the accelerator. A few more turns. Then, he pulled into a parking lot of an all-night McDonald’s and immediately cut the engine.

He waited. Christine was silent, but tension strummed within her. She was practically bursting with the multitude emotions roiling through her.

“We lost him,” Paul stated, as if he was talking about an old Frisbee at the park.

“Jesus,” Christine breathed, then chastised herself for taking the Lord’s name in vain. She was constantly surprised by the influence of her highly Catholic upbringing, even now with a decade of separation from it.

“They still just wanted to follow, nothing else.” He frowned, clearly confused.

“Well, maybe these files will tell us something?” She tugged the folders out from behind her.

Paul smiled, but she could tell that he was still thinking, even as he looked at her. “Let’s hope.”

He started the engine and began to make their way back to the safe house, far more carefully this time around. He drove for a long time, taking a circuitous route until he was absolutely positive that no one was following them.

By the time they made it inside, Christine was exhausted. The changing emotions had drained her, sapping her energy and leaving her shaky and raw. She collapsed onto the couch with barely a groan.

“I’m not built for this kind of excitement,” she told Paul.

He smiled. “You get used to it. But I’d rather you didn’t.”

She laughed at that, a low chuckled. “Same.”

“Should I make you some tea?”

She looked closer at Paul, noting the worry in his eyes. She made an effort to relax, remembering that she was now safe, and Paul was here.

“Tea would be lovely.”

He wheeled passed her and squeezed her hand as he went, a gesture of comfort.

By the time he’d returned, Christine had settled herself in the corner of the couch, her back against the armrest and her legs crossed. The files were spread out on the pillow in front her, and she was half-heartedly flicking through them. He took the mug and a plate of cookies from the tray on his lap and put them down on the table beside her.

“The sugar will help with the adrenaline come down,” he told her.

She immediately began nibbling at a cookie to appease him.

He transferred himself to the opposite side of the couch. “Find anything interesting?” he asked.

“I can’t really concentrate,” she replied apologetically.

“That’s normal. It can wait until morning. For now, you should relax.”

She blinked at him, a little incredulous. “How can I relax after that?” She took a gulp of the hot tea. Warmth seeped through her limbs. “Though the tea helps,” she added more calmly.

He smiled at her with a sweet kind of affection, and Christine’s mind was brought instantly back to that moment in the car before Zack had arrived. The heaviness of her breath in her lungs, the slow tingle across her skin, the racing heartbeat. The restlessness that had been crawling beneath her skin suddenly sparked to life.

Christine leaned towards him, drawn closer. The scent of crisp autumn leaves reached her, cosy and warm. Her eyes drifted to his lips as she moved ever closer, hearing his breath hitch, and watching the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

She was barely inches away now, and tension crackled in the room like the air before a thunderstorm.

His hand found her waist, holding her steady, not pushing her away. Christine looked up, noting his dilated pupils. He wanted this, wanted her. The knowledge sent a delicious thrill down her spine.

“You’ve just been through something frightening,” he murmured. His fingers ran along her side, up and down over her ribs. She was fairly certain that Paul had no idea he was even doing it, that instinct had taken over.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want,” she replied, her voice equally low. A spell was weaving between them; their words, his hypnotic stroking, the matching rhythm of their breathing binding them in intimacy.

“Actually-”

“Do you want me?”

“Of course-”

He didn’t get to finish whatever he was about to say because she stopped his mouth with a kiss. Firm and silencing at first, she gentled her kiss as his lips softened under hers. His hand slipped around her back, splaying against it, pulling her inexorably closer. Not that she would have resisted.

His kiss was sweet and chaste, more tender than she had expected. Rather than feed the urgent adrenaline in her system, it had a calming effect. His lips soothed her, and the heat of his body made her languid and soft.

She ran her hands over his biceps, feeling the hard muscles beneath her fingertips. He made a rough sound at the back of his throat as she kneaded his shoulders briefly. She did it again, her kiss becoming more insistent, heated.

Her hands slipped into his hair as he pulled her closer, pressing lightly against her back until her breasts brushed against his chest.

She flicked her tongue against his lips, requesting entrance. He parted with a rough groan, and Christine took advantage, licking inside his mouth, exploring. He tasted like rich coffee, hot and deep.

Her soft exhales sounded loud in the quiet room. The rustles as they shifted, the gentle sound of their lips meeting, the low sounds that Paul was making at the back of his throat, wrapped around them. She could hear her heartbeat pounding, wondering vaguely if Paul could hear it too, it was thundering so loud.

Her hands tightened in his hair as she deepened the kiss further. His hands fisted in the fabric of her shirt. Christine let one hand loosen from his hair, trailing down his neck, lingering on his chest, continuing a steady downward path. They never broke the kiss.

Not until Christine reached her destination, the waistband of his pants. As soon as her fingers were tracing the top edge, he gripped her wrist, lightning fast, and tore his mouth from hers.

“What?” she asked, panting.

He took a few tries to get his breath back. “Not now,” he managed.

“But…” She looked down and saw that he was primed for her. She blinked in confusion.

“You’ve had a tough night and—”

Christine pulled back abruptly, her ardour cooling. “You think that’s all this was?” Her voice sounded small.

Paul cleared his throat. “No, not necessarily. But any part of you that might be unsure is too much.”

Her heart melted a little at that. As frustrated as she felt—both emotionally and sexually—she couldn’t fault a guy for wanting to be sure he had her complete consent.

She sat back in her own corner of the couch. “What about you? Your night was just as tough as mine at the end there.” She knew she sounded a little put out, but didn’t care. She expected him to completely blow her off. Instead, he nodded slowly.

“I have more experience with it, but it’s true that adrenaline can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.”

“Like…like kiss me?”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a self-deprecating smile. “No, that was all me.”

She relaxed into a grin. “Good to know.”

He was silent for a minute, hesitating. “It’s not just that. I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for us to go in…that direction.”

Christine frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I haven’t been with…not since the accident.” His sentence seemed to be missing a few words, but Christine understood just fine.

“Oh.”

“Is that…pathetic?” His gaze flickered up to hers, then returned to his fingers, which were drawing some kind of pattern on his thigh.

“No! Of course not. I was just surprised.” She paused, then ploughed on. “It all still works, though.” It was more of a statement than a question. She’d seen firsthand that it all seemed to be in working order.

“Seems to be, but I don’t think there are any guarantees. Not these days.”

Christine nodded. “That makes sense. Your body went through a lot of trauma. Goodness knows how it might have changed.”

He nodded, and they lapsed into silence.

Christine’s mind wandered, thinking over Paul’s bravery, not just during his service, but in the victories he’d had since coming home. It made her like him even more, showed a strength of character that she wasn’t sure she’d encountered before.

It also made her want him even more badly.

Her parents had tried to raise her as a ‘no sex before marriage’ type, but that had gone out of the window even before they’d died. A failed experiment during her rebellious phase. She’d been too busy to have that many lovers, as it had been a low priority for her for most of her life. Perhaps her Catholic upbringing had more to do with that than she’d suspected.

But, now, for the first time in a long time, Christine could not only see a man she wanted to get naked with, but one she genuinely liked. A man she could see herself spending more time with in the future.

It was a terrifying thought for a woman so used to being alone and independent. Not even the hint of a long term relationship had ever bothered her focus and determination.