One More Day (4 page)

“In this weather?” Jenson asked over the comm, and I smiled.

“Are you going to ask me if I brought my umbrella?”

“Of course not. Your suit is waterproof.”

“Well, there you go. Don’t wait up. I need to clear my head,” I said, flashing back to my nightmares about Maddoc and my lingering annoyance with Connor.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’m going silent now, okay?” I asked, knowing she’d worry.

I heard Jenson sigh over the comm. “Okay. Be careful,” she said in a resigned tone.

“Aren’t I always?” I asked in mock seriousness, and I heard her laugh before I turned off my comm. I didn’t want anyone squawking in my ear. All I wanted was the sky and to feel like I was still the same old me. When I flew, I wasn’t too slow. I wasn’t clumsy. I wasn’t less than I used to be, before Maddoc. No, when I flew, it was like everything was as it should be.

I finished checking the alley and was about to lift off when I saw something shift in the shadows. My body tensed, the immediate adrenaline that came with seeing something unknown in the dark rushing through me.

“Easy. I’m not here for an ass-kicking,” the shape said as he stepped out of the shadows. I tried not to let on how my stomach flipped, how my face heated beneath my mask when I realized who it was, even though I was still kind of pissed at him. That rough voice, that hint of a Scottish brogue. Broad shoulders, a massive body clad head to toe in black.

“So, you’re back,” I said softly to Connor as he stepped further out of the shadows.

“For the moment,” he said. “Did you miss me?”

I shrugged, relieved that he couldn’t see my face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?”

“Maybe,” I repeated.

“You were good and pissed when I talked to you yesterday,” he said.

“Well, that’s because you were an asshole when I talked to you yesterday.” I crossed my arms, and he stepped closer.

“Maybe I was.”

“Hm.”

He took another step toward me. “Since you’re bein’ a coy little thing, I’ll say it: I missed you. Even if you are mad at me.”

“I’m mad at you because you were talking stupid yesterday. And because as far as I knew, you forgot I even existed.”

He reached out and put his hand on my hip and drew me closer to him. “It’s impossible for me to forget that you exist. And as for talking stupid, all I can do is blame the fact that I missed you and I hated that he gets to spend every day with you and I can’t.”

“You could have come back to see me. Alpha isn’t a problem anymore,” I said softly, feeling myself melt a little bit.

“I know. I realized that soon after I visited you that day.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

He shrugged. “Something came up. And you were busy, as well.”

“I’m not the only one,” I said. “CNN’s been all over you. They love it when you turn up somewhere.”

He shook his head.

“That fight in Britain was something else,” I said, looking up at him. “Six of those Wrecker assholes?”

He stepped a tiny bit closer to me, the fronts of his thighs coming into contact with my legs. “Pretty sure it was eight,” he said.

“CNN said six.”

“And how accurate are they, usually?” he asked, and I could hear the humor in his voice. “How many of your captures have they reported as being a team effort?”

“They were a team effort.”

“Sure they were. You did all of the ass-kicking, and then your team comes in and cleans it up when you’re done.” There was something in his voice, the slightest hint of anger that made my spine tingle, just a little. “Well, yeah,” I said. “Like I said, a team effort.”

“You need to stop telling them to hang back. All of them.”

I looked up at him in surprise. “How did you know I tell them that?”

“Because that’s how you are. You’ll take the hits to keep them safe, and you’re too stubborn to listen when they argue with you.”

“It has nothing to do with keeping them safe,” I insisted, stepping back and crossing my arms.

“No?”

“No. I’m trying to get back in fighting form. I’m still too damn slow. All I can do is charge and hope I knock them out with the impact. Still can’t punch worth a shit, and kicking is even more pathetic. And to do it the way I have to, I need room and to not have to worry that one of them is in the damn way.”

He stepped close again, raised his hands to my shoulders. His fingers brushed against my neck and I flinched back, remembering, in that one brief touch, the feel of Maddoc’s hands wrapped around my throat as I struggled to breathe, as my heart began to give out on me, as the world went black. I shivered, hating myself for being so stupidly weak.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He rested his face against the top of my head.

“It’s okay,” I said. After a moment, I uncrossed my arms and leaned into him, resting my hands at his hips. “I do that every time someone touches my neck now. Jenson was trying to put this necklace my mom bought for me on, and I completely fucking freaked out,” I said angrily.

He snaked his arms around my body and drew me close, and I held him as well. We must have been an interesting sight, him in his black body armor, me in my StrikeForce uniform, holding one another in the pouring rain.

“We should get out of the rain,” he said.

I thought for a second, running through the options in my head. I still had the crappy apartment I’d rented after Mama not-so-gently nudged me out of her place. But it was risky flying over there and then trying to duck into my apartment in uniform like this. Anywhere else we went, we’d likely end up with our pic all over Twitter or something. Give the bloggers and livestreamers something to talk about, I thought with a grimace.

“We could go back to Command,” I said. “I mean, now that Alpha’s out, I’m not worried about him trying anything stupid.”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

“We’re not too far. Do you want me to fly you there?”

He shook his head. “I’ll meet you there. Outside the main lobby?”

I nodded, and watched him recede into the night. He’d be there sooner than seemed possible. It was one of the many things he could do. Accelerated speed. Healing factor. Super strength. And the thing of it was, I wasn’t even sure that was all of it. I shook my head and rose into the air, heading east toward where StrikeForce Command rose in the distance, a glittering group of steel towers along the river.

A couple of minutes later, I came in for a landing in the courtyard between the four towers that made up StrikeForce Command. The main tower stood in the center, flanked by the other three, slightly smaller towers. As I looked around, I saw Killjoy walking toward me. I’d beat him by maybe half a minute, I realized.

“What, did you stop for coffee or something? I was half-sure you’d beat me here somehow,” I said, and he shrugged.

“Must be getting slow in my old age,” he joked, and I shook my head. We walked toward the entrance to Command, and the two guards there greeted me, then gave me a quick scan. Killjoy had to sign in, and I had to sign for him, and then they scanned him as well. Our door guys don’t play around. There was no slacking off, no just waving someone past. I kind of wanted them to stand outside of Mama’s trailer and keep an eye on things, but I didn’t think Portia would go for it.

We walked in and I waved at the new receptionist. She’d worked up on one of the administrative floors before, but now that Jenson was more involved with patrolling and other team duties, she had moved down here to take her place. Janice or Janet or something like that. I didn’t have it committed to memory yet. I led Killjoy to the corridor that led from the main tower to the residence tower, then we took the elevator up to my floor. We passed the time wordlessly. I was a mix of nerves and lingering annoyance from the way he’d acted when he’d called me. Though I had to admit that some of that had been abated by how happy I was to finally see him again.

We got off the elevator, and then I led him into my suite. It was still pretty bare, though I did have some little knickknacks and other stuff around. No pictures of me and Mama, because I wasn’t ready to take a chance yet. I mean, my teammates had all met her, but I still just didn’t like the idea of mixing my actual life with my StrikeForce life.

I closed the door behind us, studying Killjoy as he looked around. The question was, what part of my life did he fit into? Did he bridge the gap between actual life and whatever this was I was doing with StrikeForce? Right now, I didn’t have the foggiest idea, but I kind of hoped he was something more than just someone who took an interest because of the super hero thing.

“I’m going to go change real quick,” I told him, plucking at my StrikeForce uniform. The gray and black body armor, full face mask, and boots did a great job of keeping me protected and incognito, but I didn’t want that now that I finally had him there with me. In my bedroom, I peeled off my uniform and pulled on a pair of jeans and a top that wasn’t too horribly wrinkled. I pulled my hair down and ruffled it a bit, letting my bangs fall over my face. It was funny how just that one stupid thing made me feel more like Jolene, and less like Daystar.

When I went back out into the living room, Connor was still standing there in his armor, his mask. He still seemed uncomfortable with the idea of me seeing his face. I understood, I guess. Our secret identity is the only part of our old lives that’s still ours, and if he had family to protect, as I did, then I understood it even more.

I hoped, eventually, he’d trust me enough to take the mask off.

There was no reason for me to keep the mask on. He’d seen my face before I was Daystar, when I was a burglar, and we’d stayed in touch, on and off, ever since.

We stood awkwardly in the living room.

I glanced at him, then looked away. My suite felt even smaller with him in it.

“So,” he began.

“So,” I repeated.

He laughed. “I haven’t been this fucking nervous around a woman since I was about fourteen.”

“Why in the hell would you be nervous?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh, come on. You could kick my ass without even thinking about it. You’re smart as hell and you’ve got your shit together. You’re everything I’m not, sweetheart.”

Well. He could call me ‘sweetheart’ any damn time he wanted. That low, growly voice.

I tried to remember why exactly I was mad at him again.

I pulled myself together. I hoped I looked calmer than I felt. One thing I promised myself, after seeing the way my mom was with my dad, the way she loved him, fawned over him, even after he started smacking her around…. I swore I’d never, ever be a fool for a man, and I could see, all too easily, becoming a fool for Connor, for a guy who hadn’t even bothered to let me see his face yet.

“Everything you’re not, huh?” I asked, settling onto the couch. He folded his bulky frame onto the chair across from me.

“Yeah.”

We sat in silence for a while longer.

“You haven’t nagged me about taking the mask off,” he finally said.

“Were you timing me to see how long it would take?”

“Maybe.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t understand the value of keeping secrets. I figured you’d take it off when you were ready. Or not,” I added with another shrug.

He gestured to me, waved me over to him, and I stood up and crossed the few steps to where he was. He gently pulled my hand, and I lowered my body uncertainly until I was sitting across his lap.

“Go ahead,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to. It’s okay,” I said.

“I want to. I want you to see me, Jolene.”

I raised my hands to the bottom of his mask, all too aware, distracted by his hard body, his thighs under me, his broad chest, his gloved hands resting on the arms of the chair.

I slowly raised the bottom of the mask, first revealing the strong jaw I’d pictured way too often since that day he’d kissed me in my hospital room, that scruff of golden-red hair across his jaw and chin. Firm lips, the bottom one just full enough to make me want to take a nibble. I raised the mask up over his narrow nose, up to a pair of the most gorgeous, deep blue eyes I’d ever seen. His eyes were so vibrant it took me a moment to register the long, jagged scar that crossed from just above his right eye, down to the corner of the left side of his mouth. I took it in, and he stayed silent, still as a statue. I kept my eyes on his face as I pulled the mask the rest of the way off, revealing a head of short golden-red hair, trimmed close to his head.

I sat looking at him.

“Pretty bad, huh?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve seen uglier.”

He laughed, and I laughed along with him. I lifted my hand to his face, gently traced the scar with my fingertips. It was rough, uneven, as if it had healed badly. How had this happened to someone with a healing factor?

“Want me to put the mask back on?” he joked.

“No,” I said, pulling my fingertips back from his face, appalled by how mindless I was. What was I doing, touching him like that? “How did it happen? Why didn’t it heal?”

He took a breath, and it seemed like he was trying to decide something or come to a conclusion about something. “It happened before I got my powers,” he said. I just sat and watched him, waited for him to go on. He shook his head. “I didn’t always do the superhero thing.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t a good guy.”

“Same. Burglar,” I said, shrugging. “But you already knew that.”

He took another breath, looked way from me. “I was worse.”

I felt dread settle into my gut. “We don’t have to do this now.”

“Yeah, we kind of do.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you, and I think you might, maybe want me, and I want you to know exactly what you’re getting into here.”

“Okay. How bad?”

“Before I got my powers, I did some illegal shit.”

“More illegal than breaking into houses and banks?”

“Yeah.”

I waited, and after a moment, he went on. “We talked before about how we understood each other, what it was to grow up with nothing.”

I nodded.

“It’s easy to turn to crime when you think you have nothing to lose. That’s why I never judged you the way those costumed assholes do. I get it. They can tell us it’s wrong all they want, but you did what you thought you had to do.”