Second Sight (13 page)

Chapter 22

Ella stared at the computer, the new message blinking at her.

Group Nine had contacted her again.

She stood and silently shut the office door, then locked it, hearing Zach’s voice in the next room as he quietly talked to Joe.

The message icon beckoned to her, but she couldn’t open it. Instead, she thought about what would happen Friday night.

Zach had said he wanted to take the job. It seemed like a suicide mission to her, and she thought about just backing out, letting him figure it out by himself. However, he needed her, and abandoning him now didn’t sit well with her.

Over the past few days, he’d awakened something within her, something good and pure. She no longer felt the overwhelming anger that had possessed her soul for so long, but happiness had taken its place. Zach had broken through her barricades and found the real version of Ella, the one she thought had died so long ago.

No, she couldn’t let him go on this assignment by himself. Even if they found someone to take her place, she’d be distraught with worry for his safety. She had military training; she could shoot a gun; she most certainly could take a man down if she needed to. Zach obviously trusted her. She would be his perfect dat
e
—one that could kick ass if need be, and also act as his eyes. She needed to be there with him.

Finally, she clicked on the message.

We’re tracking you, and it’s only a matter of time before we find you. Deliver what we want by Friday. Nice move on routing your signal through Zimbabwe, btw.

She sighed
.
Her need for revenge had put her in a very bad place. If they knew she’d routed through Zimbabwe, they definitely were on to her.

Initially, her plan had been to turn Zach over to them, but now, it was no longer an option. But what other avenue should she take? What should she do? Turn herself in? Give them access to Joe?

No, she couldn’t do that. Joe’s work was important in fighting this secret war they’d found themselves in. If he disappeared, the cause would take a huge hit. There wouldn’t be a leader, and very little of the knowledge he had harnessed actually made it on written paper. He destroyed everything after he read it.

Yes, she definitely had put herself in a difficult position. Perhaps she should go to Joe and tell him what she’d done. Would it earn her an unmarked grave in the desert?

He despised betrayal, so it just might, regardless of their past. He couldn’t understand in what an ugly place she had been in.

Her only option seemed to be to give them Zach.

Sighing, a tear slid down her cheek as she typed.

You’ll get what you need on Friday.

Chapter 23

“Can we get to the top of that rock formation out by the pool?” Zach asked.

They sat in the living room, both studying the information Joe had given them. He’d been sitting for hours and needed to get out for a bit, and he’d been wondering about that wall of rock he’d seen in his vision. He’d love to jump off of it, but in his visualization, he’d never seen a ladder or a way to get up there. If one could climb to the top, he had to assume there would be a way up the back.

“Yes.”

“So there’s some stairs or a ladder or something? You aren’t talking about scaling the face, right?”

Ella laughed. “No, silly. There are stairs.”

He stood, the papers on his lap floating to the floor. “Let’s go.”

“It’s almost 10:00 p.m., Zach!”

“So what? Do you have somewhere to be? Besides on top of me in bed?”

She chuckled again. “You’re insatiable.”

“I will not argue that point with you.”

He let a beat of silence pass. “Take me to the top of that damn wall, Ella.”

She sighed and he heard her stand. “Okay, let’s go.”

As the patio door opened, the night air held just a bit of chill and felt wonderful against his skin. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it to the patio.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going for a swim. How deep is the pool?”

“About twelve feet.”

“Perfect.”

She continued to lead him, and then told him where the stairs started. He climbed slowly, holding on to Ella’s hand with his right, and feeling the wall with his left.

“We’re at the top. It’s a little uneven here.”

He nodded and moved carefully. The last thing he needed would be a broken toe after jamming it into a rock groove, or tripping and falling, then snapping his spine in half.

“Okay, we’re at the edge. If you jump, you’ll hit the water.”

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Terror ripped through him at the prospect of throwing himself off the ledge and falling twenty feet into a pool. The fear energized him, and he realized he wanted that rush of uncertainty and anxiety, simply because it made him feel alive.

How he wished he could see the stars twinkling above, and the moon shining high in the sky. He longed to see Ella’s face bathed in its light, and what the body of water below him looked like. Were there lights on, or did it appear to be one large, black pit of death?

He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and let them drop to his feet. Stepping out of them, he continued to hold on the Ella’s hand. Taking off his sunglasses, he handed them to her. “Can you please hold these?”

She took them, and he slowly moved his foot until his toes hung off the edge.

“So I just jump?”

“Yes. Don’t got straight down, but push out just a bit. Maybe a foot is all you need.”

“Jump with me.”

“No, I’m good. Besides, I’m holding your sunglasses.”

“Please?”

“Why?”

“Because tomorrow,” he murmured after a pause, “if things go wrong, one or both of us could be dead. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my thirty-five years, it’s that you don’t know when the existential rug is going to be pulled out from under you. Sometimes, you just need to take chances, to do something that scares you, to forget all the mundane shit and do something different.”

“I haven’t done that in a long time,” Ella whispered.

“What are you talking about? We were just rock climbing the other day!”

“I’m talking about getting out from under the mundane shit.”

“Like anger?”

“Yes.”

“I know. That feeling gets so old after such a short time.”

She sniffed.

“Are you crying?” he asked, surprised.

Ella had struck him as one tough cookie, and he’d never thought he’d be able to bring her to tears. Not that he’d ever try, but honestly, he stood in front of her naked on a thirty-foot ledge, ready to jump into a pool, talking about life philosophies.

On the other hand, he’d never been in this position before, either.

“No. Yes. I guess so.”

He wanted to pull her close, but sensed it wouldn’t be the right thing to do at this time. Instead, he squeezed her hand. “Get naked, woman, or jump in your clothes. However, you know I prefer you naked. Let’s do this.”

She laughed and let go of him. He heard her removing clothing, and he grew hard at the thought.

Ella grabbed his hand. “What in the world is that for?”

He pulled her close and imagined what they looked like—naked, on top of a rock formation, the moon putting them in a spotlight. They had to resemble some type of ad for an Adam and Eve story. Could the neighbors in the cul-de-sac see them? Not that he cared in the least bit. “You.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“That’s not what you said a few days ago,” he said with a chuckle.

“I know. I was terrible.”

“Yes. Yes, you were. But now, you’re all sorts of awesome.”

He gripped her around the waist and pushed off the ledge with his feet. She gasped and gave a small scream as they took air and she gripped his hand tighter.

For the few seconds it took for him to hit the water, he felt as though he flew, as though he’d freed himself from all constraints he fought in his life.

They hit the cold water and that shocked him, yet, felt energizing. For a moment, they floated, and his hearing disappeared. He continued to hold on to Ella and wondered if the weightless, sensory deprivation would be what death felt like. He’d like to think he’d go somewhere else, somewhere heavenly, but maybe that feeling of nothingness would be all that remained. Besides, he’d killed people. He doubted there would be a place for him full of cherub angels and harps.

Ella brought him out of his reverie as she began to swim for the surface. He let go of her hand and stayed in the unseen cocoon just a little bit longer, feeling the water move against his skin when her feet propelled her to the surface.

As he floated to the top, he wondered what the next night would bring. Would he die? Would Ella? Would this Group Nine operative, David Foust, know they were coming? If they were caught, would they wish for death?

His face broke the surface and he took a deep breath.

“I was wondering if you were ever coming up for air,” Ella said.

The currents as she treaded water lapped at him.

“Of course. I’m not quite ready to die just yet.”

She remained silent for while. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”

She grabbed his hand.

“I can’t wait to see it.”

They swam a few feet, then she placed his hand on a rock. “If you come closer to me, you can get to the step.”

He did as instructed, and found the ledge she mentioned. He crouched on it, the evening air making him shiver.

“Now stand up, Zach. We’ve got a couple of steps, then we’re where I wanted to take you.”

She held his hand as he felt his way.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Her voice echoed, and the temperature went up a few degrees. He assumed he’d arrived at the hot tub he’d seen in his visions.

“If you step down, you’ll be in a hot tub.”

Bingo.

As he sank into the warm water, his worries and fears dissipated, as if they melted away like a stick of butter in a hot pan. He laid his head back as he let the water pull him down, the warm bubbles caressing his chin.

“I wish you could see in here,” Ella said. “It’s so peaceful.”

“I have. I saw it in my visions.”

“But did you see the ceiling?”

He sat up, intrigued. “I did. It looks like stars, right?”

She sighed. “The guy who built this put small, incandescent lights all over the ceiling. They twinkle like the stars, except they change color from red, to blue, green, purple …. It’s so pretty.”

He tried to imagine the stars he’d seen changing color, and wondered if what his mind conjured up came anything close to it.

“Why didn’t they just open the ceiling so that you could see the real stars?”

“Because there’s too much artificial light. It’s tough to see them most nights. Besides, the enclosure allows for full privacy.”

She slipped her leg up his thigh and rested it at the juncture where it met his hip.

“You don’t need to stop there,” he quipped, his voice echoing in the small chamber.

“I don’t plan to.”

She pulled her hand away from his side, and a moment later, she straddled him. Her arms snaked around his neck, and he inched forward slightly so her legs could comfortably wrap around his waist. As her mouth met his, he sighed with completely contentment.

While she ran her fingers through his wet hair, their tongues danced lazily and she pressed her chest into his. Her actions felt desperate, as if she clung to him for dear life, and when he palmed her butt and moved to place her back against the side of the tub, she stiffened. She didn’t want him to take charge; she wanted control.

As he sat back and gave himself over to her, to the experience, and to what she needed and wanted, he wondered if the dominance issue had been because she had felt she had no control over her life these past years. Honestly, though, fear and anger had held her reins, so perhaps she now took control of the vile emotions and other things in her life, as well.

Namely, him.

She grasped his cock with force, but not enough to actually cause any pain. As she squeezed his nuts, a shiver traveled down his spine despite the hot water. Ella’s mouth claimed his with intensity, and he took her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, gently squeezing them.

“Harder,” she whispered, gasping.

He did as instructed and gave them a good pinch.

“Yes,” she hissed, so he did it again, eliciting a moan from her.

She powerfully impaled herself on his cock, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, and he became certain they drew blood as the metallic scent met his nose and the chlorine stung the wounds. As she rode him, he reached up and felt her wet face. Sweat or tears? Or even sloshing water from the tub? The way she acted and the desperation and force in her actions made him wonder if she cried.

Something felt very wrong. Gone were her gentle caresses, her sweet kisses. This seemed as if she beat herself up, using him as her battering ram.

“Stop, Ella.”

She didn’t, but only gyrated her hips against his harder.

She slammed her chest into his, the water barely cushioning the blow. He appreciated a dominant woman, but this felt different. This didn’t seem to be about sex, but about her hurting herself.

Why, he didn’t know, and he certainly didn’t feel comfortable with the whole aspect, and his deflating erection indicated as much.

“Ella, stop,” he growled, like she had a choice. He’d gone completely soft.

Placing his hands on her hips, he dug his fingers into her flesh, and she cried out, finally stilling.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but it seems to me that you’re punishing yourself for something,” he whispered into her ear as he slipped out of her. “If you need to do that, fine. I don’t understand it, but I’m willing to accept it. However, you will not use me as your personal battering ram.”

She sank into him, her cheek lying on his chest, her arms snaked around his neck. He pulled her close, their bodies melding together, and they stayed like that for a few moments, the only sound being the bubbling from the hot tub.

What went through her wonderful mind? Where had all this anger come from? Was it new, or leftovers from before? The woman seemed to be a shit-stew of emotions that he didn’t even pretend to understand. A few moments later, he thought he heard her sniffle.

“Are you crying?” he asked as he stroked her damp hair.

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what that was about, Ella, but I won’t be part of it. You and I share something beautiful, and I won’t participate in angry sex.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter, but still remained silent.

“Now, angry make-up sex is great, but I wasn’t aware we were fighting.”

Finally, she chuckled. Her next words came in a whisper. “I’m so sorry. For everything, for it all. I’m so sorry.”

He heard the desperation in her voice, the tone that begged for forgiveness; yet, he wasn’t quite sure what she needed to atone for. Her behavior toward him when they’d first met? The rough, self-mutilating sex? Did it matter? Ella had proved to be a complicated person with a lot of baggage. He respected her past, and what it meant for her future.

“Let’s start over,” he said, unwrapping her arms from his neck.

She sat back, and he placed his hands on the sides of her face, kissing her gently. He tasted the salty tears, but decided not to question the ‘why’s’ of the situation further as the hum of the hot tub provided a relaxing, lulling background noise.