Fighting (23 page)

I
had to lean even farther down to reach it.  Suddenly, my knees slipped backward
against the surface of the bookshelf and I lost my traction.  My knees
reflexively pushed harder to try to regain it, which in turn straightened my
legs even faster and I lost my support.  My torso fell toward the floor and my
hands frantically tried to find a catch on the beam.  I wrapped two hands
around the beam right as my legs flew off the front of the shelf.  My breath
was heaving as I swung back and forth from the momentum like a pendulum with my
legs dangling four feet from the floor.  My gloves had more traction against
the wood than my bare hands would have had.

"What
the hell, man?  Who polishes wood to be this slick?" I asked in a frenzied
voice.

"You're
okay," Ethan soothed.  "You're fine."

I
nodded my head and realigned my focus.  I couldn't hold onto the beam with both
hands and dismantle the alarm at the same time, so I lifted my torso and legs
toward the beam to wrap my legs around it.  I took a moment to expel my panic
and freed one hand to continue working on the box upside down. 

"Done,"
I said.

I
looked over at Ethan to touch base with him right before I palmed the beam with
both hands and pushed off with my legs, flipping over backward and landing on
the floor on my feet lightly.  I froze in a crouched position cautiously, but
no alarm was tripped.  I straightened and briskly walked to the statue. 

"No
sensor under the statue, right Ollie?" I asked, double checking.

"No
sensor.  This guy doesn't trust technology.  He only uses what he does have
because the insurance company requires him to at least make it difficult for
thieves.  Or us, basically," he muttered.

"A
thief who uses insurance?" I asked, perplexed.

I
switched out the statues and zipped the original safely in my backpack.  I
leaped onto the desk and pulled myself up onto the ceiling beam again.  I hung
from it from my hands and feet and shuffled myself across it and right back to
the electrical box.  I opened the box and reached for the wires when I heard
Brooks in my ear.

"Be
advised, Vasquez is on the move," he said.  "He's climbing into the
elevator."

I
looked at Ethan and he motioned with his hands for me to hurry.  The sensors
were still off, and if I rewired them, I wouldn't have time to get back across
the room if Vasquez came directly here.

"I
hear keys," Ethan whispered, pointing to the front door.

I
shut the door on the electrical box and dropped to my feet lightly.  Ethan
motioned for me to run toward him, but he was all the way across the room from
me.  I turned in a circle frantically.

"Alex!"
Ethan whisper-yelled at me.

Instead
of sprinting and making enough noise to definitely be heard through the door, I
went old school and ducked under the desk, praying that he wouldn't feel the
need to sit down and write a letter to his congressman right at that second.  I
pulled the chair in close to the desk and heard the bookshelf door creak shut. 
Two seconds later, the front door opened and I heard Vasquez speaking to
someone.

"Yes,
this is the statue I was telling you about.  Ancient relic from Africa.  Worth
almost quarter of a million," he said.

"No
security?" another man asked.

"Oh,
yes.  I just had the alarm turned off so that I could bring you up."

Did
that mean I just did all of that climbing for nothing?  Damn it to hell.

"Can
I touch it?" the man asked.

"Of
course.  Especially if you're looking to buy it," Vasquez chuckled.  He
sounded
like a rich son of a bitch.

I
don't know where Brooks got the replica but I hoped it was a good copy.  It
looked identical enough to pass inspection to me, but to someone who knew
enough about it to want to pay a fuck load of money to
own
it would
probably have a sharp eye on the minute details. 

Less
than a minute later, the man said, "I'll get you a bid by the end of
night."

"Excellent,"
Vasquez said, sounding satisfied.  "Let's get back to the party, shall
we?"

"Yes,
of course," the man said agreeably.

I
heard the door lock again and let out the breath I didn't realize I was
holding.  I pushed the chair away from me and stood up.  I did it all over
again, jumping from the desk to the beam and crawling toward the electrical
box.  I knew that even though the pressure plates were technically turned off,
he could turn them back on at any moment, and he would eventually notice the
wiring job I did.  If I didn't replace the wires, he would know what was up and
go after the family and their statue again. 

I
opened the box just as Ethan pushed open the bookshelf door again.  Ethan and I
shared a look of exasperation and then I fixed the wires back with delicate
fingers.   I twisted around and climbed on top of the beam, which was only
about a foot wide.  I crouched and pushed off with my feet, jumping toward the
bookcase.  I landed okay and fit my hands along the wall and retraced my steps
back to Ethan.  I sat down on top of the door and smiled down at him, my
breathing not having calmed down completely yet. 

He
held out his arms and I jumped into them.  He caught me with his arms wrapped
tight around my back and our faces inches apart.  When he lowered me to my
feet, he did it slowly so that the front of my body slid down his in such a way
that my entire body rose to attention. 

I
clenched my teeth and ignored this as best as I could.

He
released me and pulled the bookshelf back into the wall, closing the door and
locking us inside the dark hallway again.  He flipped on his flashlight and
aimed it down the tunnel.

"Feel
like exploring?" he asked.

I
glanced down at my outfit.  "I'm not exactly party formal anymore.  I need
to get back to the closet."

"Another
time, then."

"I
wish.  I love old houses."

We
ghosted down the secret passageway and back into the hallway.  I followed Ethan
back through the ventilation shaft, down the elevator and into the supply
closet.  Ethan turned his back to me, and still stoked from the heist, I didn't
hesitate to strip off my shirt and shoes and breeze past him to find my dress
and slip into it again.  I froze when I felt his hands work on my zipper,
realizing that I just waltzed into Ethan's line of sight in nothing but
leggings and a strapless bra.  Whoops.   

I
untied my ponytail as he zipped up my dress.  He leaned past me to grab his
jacket, and I felt his breath on my neck.  The assignment nearly complete, my
nerves were adjusting back to normal, thus becoming extra sensitive to Ethan's
proximity.  I stepped into my heels and twirled to face him.  He was inspecting
my hair as I'm sure it was deflated a little from the bun I had it in.  I
folded my shirt into a tiny rectangle and stuffed it and my ballet slippers
into my clutch.

I
held out my hand.  "Knife."

He
handed it to me and watched as I lifted the skirt of my dress to fit it back
into my thigh sheath.

"That
guy could see you now, he wouldn't ask.  He would just touch you," Ethan
said.

I
jerked my gaze to his, about to ask what he meant by that, but he was already
turning around and leaving the closet.  I fluffed my hair and followed him
out.  I had the bag with the statue in it in my hands as we walked down the
hall and toward a laundry elevator that the servants of the house used to use
to transport clothes and other goods from floor to floor.  Ethan opened the
doors and there sat Spencer.

He
smiled and wiggled his fingers and said, "Gimme."

I
raised an eyebrow and handed it to him.  He hugged it to his chest and Ethan
pulled the ropes to lower Spencer to the first floor.  Ethan shut the doors and
then we set off to find the party once again.

"Status,"
Brooks said.

"Handed
it off to Spencer, returning to the party," Ethan said.

"Vasquez
is in the room again," Brooks said.

"Brooks
would be the dad to come with us to prom," I told Ethan.

He
smirked at me in agreement and then his head twitched and turned in the
direction of the doorway we were about to walk through.  Ethan took a sidestep
closer to me and slid an arm around my lower back as the door opened and a man
slithered through.  He started walking before he turned around and collided
with me, shoving me back a step.  Ethan's arm around me tightened and I held
firm to my clutch, knowing all too well how easy it'd be for him to lift it.

"I'm
so sorry," Nigel said.  He straightened away and then recognized me.  He
took a step back and looked just as surprised to find us there as we were to
see him.

I
tilted the crown of my head slightly toward Ethan.  "Hi," I said.

Nigel
took in our close position and looked right at me with a curious expression. 
"Looking for that privacy you mentioned earlier?" he asked with a
raised brow.

One
of my straps fell off my shoulder and Ethan adjusted it by running his index
finger slowly along the underside of it, gliding across my skin. 

I
smirked at Nigel.  "Something like that."

We
brushed past him and back into the ballroom. 

"I'm
at the van," Spencer said.

"Me,
too," August said.

"Walking
out now," Ethan said.

He
guided me across the room and toward the exit.  I made eye contact with Brooks
for a moment, his eyes tracking our movement through the room, before he broke
it and looked elsewhere.  Ethan escorted me back to our car and we got in the
front seats.  He started the engine and we waited for roughly thirty seconds
before Brooks climbed into the backseat and we drove back home.  I relaxed my
entire body, expelling a huge breath of relief and then yawning.

"What's
for supper?" I asked.

"Didn't
you have any shrimp cocktail at the party?" Brooks asked.

"There
was shrimp?" I asked.

"Oh
right, they brought it out right as you and Ethan disappeared," Brooks
said.

"I
feel gypped," I complained.

"We
can hit a fast food joint on the way home," Ethan said.

"Yes,
please," I heard Spencer say through my ear bud.

"I
deserve a milkshake after all of that tumbling I just did.  And I don't just
mean the locks," I said gleefully, clicking my tongue and making little
guns with my thumbs and forefingers. 

Ethan
glanced at me.  "You're still fired up, aren't you?" he asked,
suppressed laughter in his voice.

"Little
bit," I said. 

"Nice
job," Brooks said.

I
smiled at Ethan and he winked at me.  I toed off my shoes and settled back in
my seat for the long ride home.

A
week later, I was staring at my digital tablet that I had laid on my desk with
a peculiar expression on my face.  It was collecting dust and it dawned on me
just how long it'd been since I got bored and read a book on it.  I was
spending so much time with my crew that I didn't feel the pull to throw myself
into a world of fiction.  Why read fantasy when my life was more engrossing
than a book?

I
turned on my heel and went searching for Ethan.  It was a few hours after my
tutoring with Brooks, where I was joined by the others as he insisted that we
would never really stop learning.  He taught us how to question a target without
them fully realizing it. 

I
looked all over the house and when I didn't find him, I waltzed outside and
spotted him in the garage.  He was leaning under the popped hood of one of the
cars, inspecting the engine.  The sun was still up, the engine was throwing off
heat and the garage was not air conditioned, so he only had the breeze flowing
in weakly through the open door.  He had motor oil on his hands and forearms,
his hair was disheveled and he had let his beard grow bristly again.  He was
wearing jeans and a black tank top, and was sweating slightly.  It was quite
possibly the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my entire life.  I was frozen to
the spot, helplessly staring at him when he turned his head and noticed me. 

"Oh
hey, what's up?" he asked casually.  As if my blood flow wasn't being
directed to places other than my brain.  More important places.

I
snapped out of it and walked toward him to inspect his handy work.  "What
are you doing?" I asked.

"I
just replaced the brakes and an engine belt, and now I'm about to change the
oil."  He looked at me and glanced down at my clothes.  "Want to
help?"

"Sure,"
I said.

"Go
change into something you won't mind getting dirty."

I
ran back upstairs to change into my least favorite pair of jeans and a loose
gray shirt that I normally slept in.  I braided my hair to the side of my head
as I walked back into the garage.  His legs were sticking out from below the
raised vehicle, but he slid out on a roll around thing when he heard my
approaching footsteps. 

He
climbed to his feet and said, "Lie down on the creeper."

"The
what?" I asked, my voice vibrating with suppressed laughter.

He
pointed to the thing with wheels that he was lying on.  "Roll around
creeper."

"It's
actually called a
creeper
?"  He smirked when he realized why I was
stuck on it and nodded his head.  I sprawled out on it and muttered, "Oh,
the jokes I could make about that."

He
slid a giant pan under the car and then got down on all fours. 

He
looked down at me and said, "Ready to get dirty?"

"Well,
I
am
on my back," I quipped.

He
laughed, pleasantly surprised, and then dropped down on his back and scooted up
so that he was positioned under the car. 

"And
I didn't even have to fight you to get you there," he said, referring to
the comment I had made to Ross after he bested me in a scrimmage match.

"Fuck
you," I said playfully on a chuckle. 

I
rolled up to match his position and watched and listened as he walked me
through how to change the oil.  He tinkered with a few other things while we
were down there and I watched, my eyes riveted on his clever hands, finding
them sexy as hell.  When the oil was drained, we crawled out from under the car
and he let me pour in the new oil.  He performed some other maintenance checks
and then moved on to another car and we did it all over again with the new
engine.

"Are
you the resident mechanic?" I asked while we were under the second
vehicle.

"Yeah. 
Brooks and Spencer know some stuff, too, but not like me.  I used to work at a
garage in high school and college before I was fighting.  And I actually enjoy
the work, whereas Brooks is usually busy and the only thing Spencer will sit
still for is food or video games."

"Hmm,"
I said. 

"What?"
he asked.  He stopped what he was doing to clean his hands with his rag and
look at me.

"I'm
just trying to think of something that you don't know that maybe
I
can
teach
you
."

"I
don't know how to cook.  I'm not terribly good at tracking people, or following
tracks.  Sometimes I have trouble saying what I mean if it doesn't have
anything to do with fighting."  He ran his eyes down my braid and said,
"And I don't know how to braid hair.  So take your pick, 'cause I could use
some schooling," he said.

I
smiled.  "You want to learn how to braid?"

"My
eyes get stuck on your braid sometimes.  I like the way it looks."

He
liked something about me.  Oy vey.  I unwittingly bit my bottom lip and his
eyes flashed down to it, attracted by the movement.  I released it with a pop
and looked at his hands briefly.

Somewhat
flustered and trying to hide it, I said, "I'm a pretty good cook.  I'm not
bad at tracking, but Brooks could help you with that more than I could.  The
communicating thing, you do better with than you think.  Communicating is more
than just saying words, anyway."  I ran my fingers down my braid and said,
"And I can definitely show you how to braid."

"You're
pretty good at being evasive in a fight, too," he said.

"Yeah,
because you've been helping me."  I pointed to him.  "Master." 
I pointed at my chest.  "Grasshopper."

He
chuckled and said, "Maybe we shouldn't be hanging out under a raised
vehicle just for kicks and giggles."

The
back of my hand slapped his chest lightly before I could stop it and I
exclaimed, "I say that!  Kicks and giggles."

He
put his hands to the concrete to shift out from under the car.  "I know,
babe," he said, wearing a small smile.

We
climbed to our feet and he looked around the garage and said, "I ordered a
new part for the engine on this one.  I left it in the living room.  I'll be
right back."

We
replaced that part and when I thought he was done, he traded out one set of
keys for another on the post by the door.  He walked over to a little blue
sports car and turned to look at me deviously.

"I'm
going to replace the alternator in Ross' car.  Want to help?" he asked.

I
eyed him suspiciously.  "Are you going to sabotage it?"

He
leaned against the car and smirked at me.  "Depends.  Do you want
to?"

I
smiled wickedly.  "This is why we're friends."

He
tossed me the keys and I unlocked the door and leaned inside to pop open the
hood.  We were both hovering under the hood when we heard footsteps.  Our faces
were pretty close together so when we turned, I had to take a step back to
avoid hitting his face with mine. 

Spencer
fiddled with a few of Ethan's tools and we straightened up to look at him.  He
was preoccupied with some kind of mechanical contraption and still hadn't
looked at us yet.

"Spence,"
Ethan prompted.

He
looked at us like he just remembered we were standing there and glanced at his
watch.  "It's time for you to tutor me, Alex."

"Oh,
right."  I stole Ethan's rag to wipe my hands clean and said, "Thanks
for the lesson, Boss."

I
tossed the rag back to him and hooked my arm through Spencer's to lead him out
of the garage.  We crossed the threshold into the house and I released him so
he could grab his books and meet me in the living room.  We studied math
equations and a little bit of English literature before it was time for
supper.  Ethan showed up freshly showered and wearing his signature black
shirt, dark jeans and boots, but he didn't shave and if I said I was happy
about that, it would be an understatement.  Ethan
owned
that look. 

I
sat across from him and we all made plans to go to the drive-in movie theatre
the following night because a new super hero movie was premiering that we were
pretty much dying to see.  After supper, we all gathered in the living room to
watch TV and just be together.  I sat on a couch and tensed when I saw Ross
coming toward me, afraid I was going to be subject to endless muttering, but
suddenly Ethan was there and fell to the cushion beside of me.  Ross looked
slightly perturbed and changed direction, sitting on the other side of the
room.  Ethan glanced at me and I lightly jabbed him in the arm with my elbow in
thanks.

Ethan
and I were the only ones left in the living room a few hours later, so I stood
up to leave for bed because I didn't want to wake up plastered all over him
again.  I'd probably end up groping him in my sleep, and while that sounded
like fun, it was out of the question.

He
walked me to my door and I'm pretty sure it was just me who felt like it was an
awkward end to a first date.  We didn't talk.  He simply walked beside of me
and paused to watch me walk inside my room and smile at him as I closed the
door.  He didn't smile back, but he did jerk his chin up at me and leave for his
own room.

I
sat down heavily on the side of my bed and removed my socks.  I hated sleeping
in socks.  I changed into my pajamas and swam between my sheets.  It took me at
least an hour to become sleepy enough to fall asleep, drowning in thoughts of
Ethan.  If someone wanted to torture me, all they'd have to do is force me to
watch Ethan be with another woman.  God, I couldn't even stand the
thought
of it.  What was I going to do when Ethan found his next girlfriend?  Or got
married?  Oh fuck, I was never getting to sleep.

Eventually,
I did fall asleep and I know this because I was jerked awake by a deafening
alarm.  I threw my body into a crouch with my feet tangled in my sheets and my
hand gripped the knife I kept under my pillow.  I quickly surveyed my bedroom,
but saw no one.  The door wasn't even open.  I scrambled to my feet on the
floor and approached the door, eyeing it suspiciously, knowing the steel bolts
were activated.  Why the fuck was the alarm going off?  Oh shit, this could not
be good.  I stood frozen to the spot for a moment longer, uncertain of what to
do.

I
knew that whatever was happening, it was endangering all of our lives.  At the
thought of the others, indignant anger eclipsed my fear and my training kicked
in.  I shucked my pajamas and threw on my regular clothes quick as lightening. 
I sat down to shove my boots on my feet and tie the laces frantically, my eyes
already on my go-bag.  I flashed to it and threw it on my shoulders and then
gathered all of the weapons I could find in my room and stashed them away all
over my body.  Once I was done, I breathed deeply and methodically to pace the
adrenaline that was rushing through my body while my mind worked furiously to
understand what was happening.  I was worried about my friends, which was
basically an entirely new phenomenon that I didn't have time to analyze at the
moment.  It was simply innate and I was going with it. That's what's kept me
alive for so long, being able to ride the tide and adapt while on the move. 
Probably how I didn't freak out about being at the compound in the first place.

I
was in the middle of mentally mapping out everyone's rooms while rolling out a
set of bundled tools to pick the lock on the wall mount on the inside of my
room to withdraw the steel bolts in my door when suddenly, the door burst open
from the outside. I flew to my feet and into a defensive stance only to be
surprised to see Brooks standing there but for a moment, already turning around
and leaving while motioning for me to follow.  I didn't hesitate to tag my bag
and lock pick set and chase after him, right on his heels as he flew down the
corridor.  He skidded to a stop to type in the access code to another door and
I took the chance to quickly and succinctly demand to be brought up to speed on
the situation and that this better not be a training exercise. He spared me a
hurried glance and answered as well as he could under obvious duress.

"The
compound has been compromised.  I don't know how and I don't know who.  The
alarm was tripped and the computers are down.  I fled the kitchen just as an
intruder swiped his knife at me."

I
glanced down at his bleeding shoulder and back up to his face where he was
bleeding profusely above his eyebrow and I decided to assume that this was not
a test and immediately went into escape mode, which somewhere along the way
turned from me simply running and evading, to making sure my people got out
safely.

"I
took him down and came straight here," he finished.

I
looked around and recognized that we were at August's door.  Brooks gave me the
general access code and I ran as fast as my feet could me to the next room,
which was Spencer's.  Then we met Brooks and August at Ollie's room. At the
back of my mind, I had my priorities and I couldn't deny that Ethan was pretty
much topping it.

With
no time for the range of emotions that thought alone produced, I began to race
to the rescue that I decided I would never let him live down or forget but
before I took two steps, I heard gunfire and someone grabbed my arm roughly.  I
instinctively turned to fight, but stopped when I saw Brooks' face.  I looked
down the hall to where he was returning fire.  A guy in a black ski mask was
firing right at us but he retreated for cover.  Brooks kept shooting and pushed
everyone into the room that we were just evacuating Ollie from. The kids, I
could tell, were masking their fear but hell, I couldn't blame them as this was
a fuck of a lot more than theory or practice. This was real danger, so thick it
was almost tangible.