Commodity (13 page)

“He did fend for himself for several years, I believe.”

“I bet he lived off carry-out and microwavable pizzas.”

I have no idea, so I don’t argue the point.  I start gathering up plates and forks for dinner as Caesar, Brett, Ryan, Chuck, and most of the rest of the guys file out of the woods with their arms full of firewood.

“Smells good!” Chuck calls out as he drops a bunch of logs near the open fire.  “We just need some margaritas to go with it!”

“There’s rum in the shed,” Ryan says.

“Close enough!”

Chuck mixes rum with a large can of pineapple juice, which works quite well.  I’ve never been much of a drinker, but his concoction is pretty tasty.  Even Falk has a small cup of the drink.

Christine has become more creative with the cooking, and the Mexican tortillas filled with canned vegetables and black beans are delicious.  I’m not sure how she seasons them, but it works.  It would have been nice to have some cheese sprinkled on them, but dairy products are pretty much gone now.

Christine continues to order Falk around after dinner as I move to the other side of the fire to sit. Though my leg has pretty much healed, it sometimes gets sore when I stand for too long, and I need a break.  I find an empty lawn chair near the shed and back away from the fire.  There’s less wind here, and I’m tired of the smoke getting in my eyes.

Brett grabs a chair nearby and yanks it over so he can sit facing me.

I haven’t spoken to Brett very much.  I’ve noticed him with Caesar quite often, and he has a similar bearing.  I once asked if he was also in law enforcement of some kind, but he said he had been working in manufacturing.

“You made the potatoes?” he asks.  “They were damn good.”

“It was actually cauliflower,” I tell him.  “Seasoned like mashed potatoes but supposedly better for you.  They end up tasting about the same.”

“Well, it was damn good, whatever it was.  Not sure about that other stuff.  It didn’t taste like anything Mexican I’ve had before.”

“What have you had before?”

“Taco Bell!”

We both laugh, and Brett offers me a drink from the flask he has in his pocket.  I glance at Falk, knowing he won’t approve, though he also won’t say anything about it.  He had lightened up quite a bit after our chat a few nights ago.  He’s not looking in my direction, but I decide to decline anyway.

“Suit yourself,” Brett says as he takes a good swig.

“I was never much for scotch,” I admit.  “Martinis are more my style, but they’re a little more complicated than just opening the bottle.”

“All the complicated parts of scotch are done before it ever gets into a bottle,” Brett says.  “Caesar knows his scotch.  He’s picked up some good stuff on supply runs.  It helps relieve some of the tension.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”

“It’s a little tense around here, ya know?”  Brett leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees as he looks up at me with a toothy smile.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You know.”  He grins wider.  “All these guys, one single chick.  You realize you’re quite the topic of discussion when you’re not around.”

The friendly chat we have been having feels abruptly different to me.  I sit up a little straighter to shift my chair away, but Brett just scoots his closer.  Our knees are almost touching.  I swallow and grasp my upper arms with my hands.

“So, how many people here know who you really are, Hannah Savinski?”

My muscles flex, and I push back against the chair.  I can feel my throat tightening up, and I glance around to see where Falk is, but he’s no longer next to Christine.  It’s dark enough that I can’t find him right away.  He was here just a few minutes ago, so I know he’s not far.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s all right, babe.” Brett continues to smile at me.  “I won’t give ya away.  I’m surprised people haven’t figured it out.”

“They have a lot of other things on their minds.”

“Still, that’s a gutsy thing you did.  Powerful people to go up against.”

I nod.  I’m not at all relaxed by his declaration to keep my identity to himself.  Everything about his posture makes me think he wants something else.

“Your face was all over television in Chicago,” he says with a smile.  “I mean, Archive Industries is big business all over the country, ya know?”

“Um…yeah, I know.”  His words are increasing my discomfort.  I’ve only talked to Falk about my past since the attacks, and he doesn’t tend to ask a lot of questions.

“You were all ready to testify in front of all those government types, right?”

“Something like that,” I mumble.

“Did you get a lot of names?” he asks.  “Like, the other people Hudson worked with?”

I don’t like where this is going at all.  He sounds like someone from the media, and I wonder if he really was in manufacturing work before.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I tell him.

“Oh right,” he says, his head bobbing up and down.  “Yeah, yeah.  Sure.  I just wanted you to know you could if you wanted to.”

“I don’t.”

“It had to have been rough on you.”

I look at him sternly, annoyed more than anything now, and he seems to get the idea.

“It’s okay,” he says with another toothy grin.  He leans forward and lays his hand on my knee.  “I’ll shut up about it now.”

His grip tightens for a moment before he slides his hand up my leg.  I can’t move.   My vision blurs.  For a moment, I’m transported back to that van, and I feel the tight grip of fingers around my legs as they’re held in place.

“Just remember, if you start getting a little tense, I’m right here for ya.”  He slides his hand a little further up my thigh and grips my flesh with his fingers.

Everything happens so fast.

One moment, Brett has his hand on my leg, and the next, he’s flung backwards.  The chair tips along with him, and Falk is on top of him, slamming a fist into his face.  I jump out of my chair, yelling at Falk to stop, but he doesn’t pay any attention to me.

Brett grabs hold of Falk’s forearms, and the two of them roll.  For a brief moment, Brett is on top, but Falk quickly jabs a fist into his side, and they roll again.  I jump backward and end up against the wall of the shed.

At that point, everyone has heard the commotion, and they all run toward the fight.  Falk is still hitting Brett in the chest and face, and Brett is punching Falk in the side, screaming at him to get off.

Caesar makes a grab for Falk, pulling him off of Brett and to the side.  He tries to get a grip around Falk’s arms to hold him back, but Falk shoves him away.  As Caesar regains his balance, Falk draws the gun at his waist and points it right in Caesar’s face.

“Back off.”  Falk’s voice is perfectly calm though his eyes are wide and full of fury.  He’s taught me enough about guns to see that he’s flicked off the safety.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Caesar yells.  “Put that damn thing away before someone gets hurt!”

“
He
is going to get hurt,” Falk says, pointing the gun to a supine Brett.  “He is going to get a bullet in his fucking skull if he ever touches her again!”

“Falk!  Stop!” I yell, but he keeps his eyes on Brett.

Both of them are breathing heavily.  Brett places his hands behind himself on the ground and stands slowly, holding his arms out in surrender.

“I don’t know what the hell is up, buddy,” he says, “but I was just talking to the lady.”

“Keep your fucking hands off of her,” Falk says through his teeth.

Caesar steps slowly away from Falk and goes to Brett.  He grabs the man by the arm and starts to drag him away.  Falk lowers his weapon but steps up to Brett, causing Caesar to stop.  Falk stares down into Brett’s face.

“She is
mine
!” Falk growls at him.

Caesar’s eyes widen as he pulls Brett away from Falk.  There’s blood running down Brett’s face from a gash near his temple, and his lip is busted open as well.

My back is still pressed against the wall of the shed.  I try to take it all in—Brett’s bleeding face, Caesar’s efforts to intervene, and Falk’s outlandish behavior.  Falk stalks toward me, his eyes blazing.  He slams one hand on the wall right next to me.

“You are mine,” he says gruffly.  He raises his other hand and cups my cheek, tilting my head to look at him.

His eyes are bright, and he looks down at me with uncharacteristic emotion.  I can feel the tension in his fingertips as they stroke slowly over my cheek.  I watch his tongue dart out and moisten his lips just before he presses them firmly against mine.

I gasp against his mouth and clench my fingers around the hem of his shirt.

Despite the manner in which he approached me, his lips are soft and gentle against mine, and his fingers slowly caress the side of my face.  The firm muscles in his chest are pressed against my body, and I feel the strength of his arms in every touch.

His tongue runs over my bottom lip before he pulls back, panting.  He touches his forehead against mine, keeping his eyes closed.  There’s a scrape under his eye, but it’s not bleeding.  I can only barely make it out in the firelight.  He turns his head slowly, placing his mouth near my ear.

“I swore to protect you,” he whispers.  His breath is hot on my neck.  “In these circumstances, that makes you mine.  The only way I can protect you from people like him is to lay claim to you.”

I look into his deep blue eyes, wondering where my panic has gone.  I should be freaking out.  I should be screaming and pushing him away.  I shouldn’t be hoping he’ll kiss me again.

“Falk...”

“I’d never hurt you, Hannah.”  His breath feels hot on my neck, sending shivers through my skin.  “I’d never, ever force you.  I know what you’ve been through.  I wouldn’t do that to you.  But this…this is the only way I can keep you safe.”

I’m dizzy.  His words are only barely making it deep enough into my consciousness for me to understand what he means.  All I can think about is the heat of his body next to mine, and the feeling of his lips on my mouth.

“Come with me now,” he whispers.  “Come back to the apartment with me.  They’re all going to see it, and they’re all going to know you’re mine.  It’s the only way to keep them all off of you.”

My mind is still racing.  I know I’m not thinking clearly, but everything Falk says makes sense.  Brett said they’ve all been talking about me, and I believe him.  If they think I’m with Falk, they’ll leave me alone.

“Okay,” I say softly.  My voice is trembling.

“When we get there, nothing’s changed,” he says.

But it has, Falk.  It changed as soon as you put your lips on mine.

“Right,” I say.

He slips his hand from my cheek, down my arm, and grips my hand in his.  He takes a short step back, his eyes never leaving my face, and turns to let me go first.  He takes his usual stance to my right and slightly behind me, moving his hand to the small of my back.

I can feel everyone’s eyes on us as we walk slowly toward the building, up the stairs, and into the apartment.  Before the door closes completely, I can hear their murmured words.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” Falk says as soon as we’re inside.  “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that and…and everything else.  I had to think fast.  I had to put a stop to all of this, and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“It’s okay.”  I back away from him.  Now that I’m here and away from everyone else, I should be able to think rationally again.  “But Brett…Jesus, Falk, what were you thinking?”

“I didn’t see it fast enough.”  The tone of his voice goes up a notch.  “I should have been paying closer attention.  I saw him sit next to you, and I was going to come over there, but Christine distracted me, and when I looked again, he had his hand on your thigh, and you were pushing back, but you didn’t have anywhere to go.”

He stops speaking and stares at me.

“I snapped.”  His shoulders slump, and he rubs the scrape below his eye.  “I snapped when I saw that, but I’m not sorry about it.”

“You pointed a gun at Caesar.”

“He shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

I lay in bed as the events of the evening play over and over again in my mind.  Brett’s words and touch made my skin crawl, but Falk’s reaction bordered on the insane.  I know how much he wants to protect me and keep me safe, but what he did was completely uncalled for.

I’d fought in self-defense when I was attacked, but this isn’t the same.  Yes, Brett had touched me.  I didn’t like it, and I’m ultimately glad Falk put an end to it, but I can’t agree with how he did it.  Would he have shot Brett or Caesar?  How far would he go to protect me?

I shudder at the thought.  Circumstances aside, I’m not a violent person.  Before now, I hadn’t thought Falk was, either.  Now I am not so sure, and my previous conversation with Caesar flows through my mind.  Do I trust Falk? 
Should
I trust him?  Yes, he seems to have my best interests at heart, but do I know that for sure?  Before meeting in the airport, I didn’t know he existed.

I bring my fingers to my lips, reliving the memory of his mouth on mine.  He was angry—enraged enough to pull a gun—yet he had been gentle with me.  He explained why he did it and even apologized.

When I had been in college, my roommate dated a guy from her hometown.  Every time she went home and visited him, she would come back with bruises.  She made excuses for him—told me how he had just had a little too much to drink or that he was stressed about finals.  She said he was sorry for what he had done.

Isn’t that what abusive men do?  Apologize after acting violently?

I take a long breath.  This isn’t the same at all.  Falk hadn’t done anything to me.  In fact, everything he had done was in order to keep me safe.

I hear Falk enter the dark room and slide into bed beside me.  I don’t turn over to look at him but listen to his breathing as he settles behind me.  I’m more aware of his body near mine than I have ever been, and I close my eyes, wishing I could just start the whole day over again.

“Hannah?” he whispers.  “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

I feel his hand under the blanket, creeping around my waist the same way he did every night—protective, warm, and comforting.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.  “I’m sorry I…that I kissed you like that.  I shouldn’t have done that.”

“The kiss didn’t bother me.”

“It didn’t?”

“No.”

“You want to tell me why you’re still so angry?”

I turn my head to look at him, and it’s obvious he has no idea.

“You pulled a gun, Falk.  Remember what you said to me when you were first teaching me how to shoot?  You said I should never draw a gun and point it at someone unless I intended to use it.  Do you remember that?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Were you going to shoot Caesar?”

He hesitates, pulling his hand back from my stomach and resting it on my side.

“Only if he tried to stop me,” Falk says, “or if he tried to hurt you.”

“Caesar wasn’t involved.  He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

“I can’t be sure of that.  He and Brett are friends.”

“Brett has only been here for a couple of weeks.”

“And they’re still close,” Falk says.  “They know each other from before, but they haven’t told anyone that.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a very good judge of character,” Falk replies.  “People who have known each other for a long time act differently than people who have just met.  They stand closer to each other.  They speak more casually.  Caesar and Brett were like that as soon as we got back to camp that first night, and yet they made a show of introducing themselves when he and I met up with that group.”

“Why wouldn’t they just admit that they knew each other?”

“Exactly,” Falk says.  “Why wouldn’t they?  Questionable actions make me question motivation.”

“You think they’re hiding something?”

“I know they are.”

“What?”  I roll over to face him.  “What would they hide from us?”

“I have no idea,” he says.  “They’re pretty careful when they talk to one another, which is also suspicious.”

I think about it for a minute.

“That’s still no reason to pull a gun on him.”

“If I don’t know someone’s motives, I’m going to err on the side of caution,” Falk says, “especially when it comes to your safety.  Brett attacked you.”

“He only touched me.”

“He grabbed your leg.  You obviously didn’t like it, and he obviously didn’t care.  He was trying to intimidate you, Hannah.  That was clear.”

“I’m sure he won’t try that again.”  I grumble the words as I look away from Falk.

“No, he won’t.  That was rather the point.”

“Your point was overstated.”  I roll back to my side, facing away from him.

“You didn’t tell me what he said to you.”  Falk leans over, peering down at me.

“Nothing important,” I mumble.

“He was coming on to you.”

“Yeah, I guess so.  He was drinking, so—”

“So, you’re going to make excuses for him?”  Falk reaches over and places his hand on the side of my face, turning my head to look at him.  “Do I need to come out and state the obvious?”

I glance away, but he keeps his hand on my face.

“Guys are assholes, Hannah,” he says.  “You know this better than most.  When we want a girl, we tend to go after her.  We don’t usually think about how you might feel about our actions unless it’s made abundantly clear.  I just made that clear to him.”

“You claimed me.”

“Yeah, I did.”  Falk huffs out a breath and releases my face before rolling to his back.  “Guys are like any animal out there.  We fight for food, territory, and mates.  Put us in a situation like this, and the fight comes out a lot more often and a lot more bloody.”

“So, you’re all cavemen?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you’re going to squabble over who gets to put a baby in me?”

He looks at me darkly.

“Essentially, yes.”

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound?”

“Do you realize how right I am?”  He sits up in the bed and turns to face me.  “I’m not kidding, here.  Our minds might not actually form those words, but that’s exactly what we’re after.  Every guy in this camp, with the possible exception of Chuck since he already has a mate, wants to fuck you.  At some point, they’re going to try to act on that desire, that need.  You can refuse, and some of them will respect that for a while.  As time goes by, fewer and fewer are going to listen to your wishes.”

I swallow hard.

“You aren’t making me feel better.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel better,” he says.  “I want you to see this for what it is.  I want you to understand why I did what I did.”

“You made yourself the alpha in the pack.  Only the alpha gets a mate.”

I can’t look at him when I say the words.

“I wouldn’t…I’m not going to…”

“Why not?”  I snap at him.  My stomach clenches and my body heats up as I clench my teeth.  Part of me wishes I had never asked Falk any questions—that I would have been better off not knowing or thinking about how the men in the group might see me.  “Are you saying you aren’t like the other guys?  You don’t want to fuck me?”

He flinches at my words.  I’m not even sure why I’m angry—whether it’s the idea that I should look at every guy in our community as a threat or that Falk doesn’t want me at all.

He looks at me, obviously confused by my words.  I can’t blame him—I don’t know what’s going through my head either.  First he says they all want me, and then he says he wouldn’t do that to me.  Rejection is outweighing relief, and I feel my eyes starting to burn.

Falk reaches over and touches my temple with the tips of his fingers, slowly pushing my hair away from my forehead.  He strokes down my cheek and across my jaw.  It feels electric as my skin tingles and my heart pounds in my chest.

“I’ve wanted you since the day I laid eyes on you.”

I stop breathing and lean into his touch, my body reacting to him as if it were on autopilot.  The feeling of his fingers on my skin ripples through the rest of my flesh.

“I wasn’t the only one around then.”

“No, you weren’t.  That has nothing to do with it.  I want
you
.”

My heart pounds and my pussy throbs at his words.  I’m breathing rapidly, and I see that his chest is rising and falling quickly as well.  His eyes are cast in shadow, but his dark look is still visible.

Leaning forward, I press my lips to his.  He slides his hand off my face, over my shoulder, and down my arm as I reach up and wrap my hand around the back of his head.  I twist strands of his hair between my fingers as I pull him closer to me, turning my head and opening my mouth to him.

I feel his hand on my waist, but it’s not what I want.  I reach down, cover his hand with mine, and move it up, so he’s cupping my breast with his palm.  He grips the soft flesh through the material of my nightshirt and runs his thumb over my nipple as his tongue slides against mine.

His lips are so warm and gentle, his tongue soft in my mouth.  He runs his hand up my back, cradling my head as he turns his, kissing me deeper.  It’s not enough.  I want more.

I don’t know what I’m feeling—anger or lust.  I just know that I want him.

I reach down, my hand running from his hip to his thigh, then around to the front.  I trace my fingers over him, feeling the heat of his hard shaft pressing against my palm as he groans into my mouth.  Sliding my hand under the band of his shorts, I wrap my fingers around his shaft.  It feels hot as it flexes in my grip.

“God, Hannah…stop.  Please, stop.”  Falk pulls back, and I look to his tense face as he squeezes his eyes shut.  “I can’t…not now.”

“Why?  What’s wrong?”  Slowly, I remove my fingers from his cock and out of his shorts.  I don’t know what to do with my hand now, so I just bring it up to my chest.

“I’m so worked up right now…”  He moves his hand away from my breast, sliding it down to my stomach where he makes a fist.  “I’m still pissed off.  I can’t right now.  If I did…well, I don’t think I could control myself.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes,” he says, “I do.”

He closes his eyes again, his expression pained.

“I might not hold back.  I could be too rough.  I can’t do that to you, Hannah.  I can’t take that kind of risk, not with you.  If I did something…triggered some memory…”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” I insist.  “I know the difference between what happened to me and…and
this
.”

“I realize.”  He runs his hand over his face.  “I still can’t take that chance.”

“I want you to.”  My voice sounds small and unsure.  It’s not like I’ve never been turned down before, but this feels different.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” Falk says, “but no.  Not now.  Not yet.  I need time.  I need to figure out how to make it perfect.”

He places his palm against my cheek.

“You give me a sign tomorrow night,” he says.  “Any sign at all.  Assuming I haven’t drawn a weapon within the hour, I will have you up here so fast, your feet may not touch the stairs.”

I smile, the tension broken.

“Are you okay with that?”  He strokes my cheek again.

“Yes,” I say with a nod.

“You sure?”

“Yes, your terms are acceptable,” I say, smiling at him.  “Really, it’s fine.  I think I’m more snuggle-horny anyway.”

“You’re
what
?”

“You know…in the mood for kissing and cuddling.”

“It’s only cuddling if you have a hard-on,” Falk mumbles.

“What?”  I laugh, and he grins back at me.

“When I was in the infantry, it was acceptable to wrap up in your woobie and spoon with another guy when you were out on patrol.  Body heat and protection, you know.  Spooning is fine, but cuddling isn’t.  The difference is whether or not you have a hard-on.”

I blink a few times.

“Did you just say ‘woobie’?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean, like a security blanket?”

Falk narrows his eyes.

“Don’t make fun of my woobie.”

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh.  The mental image of Falk—muscled, armed, alpha Falk—holding a bright blue blanket with his thumb in his mouth won’t leave my head.  I can’t help it.  I laugh out loud.

“Do you still have it?”

“Of course I do.”  He pushes back and climbs out of the bed, fumbles in the dark of his closet for a moment, and then comes back with a camouflage blanket.  He holds it up near the light of the lantern and grins.  “My woobie.”

“Holy shit!”  I sit up and take the edge of it in my hands.  The material feels light but sturdy and warm.  “You really do have one!”

“It’s perfect,” he says.  “It’s lightweight, warm, and you can roll it up really small, so it even fits in a pocket if you do it right.”