The Glorious Becoming (35 page)

The Texan chuckled loudly. “Yeah, those reasons kinda suck.”

“Good God.” Rubbing a hand across her face, she looked at him through the cracks between her fingers. “There
must
be more to it than that. I think he looks good. Does that count?”

“Well that’s just lust.”

“Of course it’s lust,” she said, “but love starts with lust, right? If you’re not lusting for someone...” As the statement hung, she motioned for him to finish it. “Help me out, here.”

He shook his head and grinned. “You’re on your own with this one.”

“But seriously!” she said. “You have to have a
little
lust, right? Like, the smallest iota of lust. There’s got to be an attraction. Then you’ve got to have chemistry.” She took another drink. “And we most certainly had chemistry.” Once again, an odd look struck her. Her mouth fell in humiliated horror. “Oh my God, we didn’t even have chemistry, did we?”

Holding his hands open, he implored her to keep on.

“We fight well together, we can coordinate and move in like no one else on the battlefield. We can read each other’s body language, we trust each other completely. In combat, obviously.”

Finishing his third beer, Jayden said, “Everything you’re talkin’ about is things y’all can do. But why do you love him?”

Esther’s brow furrowed intently; her narrowed eyes stared at the wall in heavy thought. She shook her head momentarily before looking back at him. “Jay, I’ve got nothing.”

“I mean, you
killed
a man for him. There must be somethin’.”

The look on her face was total disgust. “I cannot think of a single damn reason why I love that man beyond just what he is and how he looks.” Her eyes began to shimmer. “Seriously, Esther? Was that
sodding
it?”

“Hey, c’mon,” he said, reaching his hand across the table. “Don’t start killin’ yourself now.”

“I’m serious! I don’t think he’s funny. He’s nice, but
Boris
is nice. He’s charming, but so are you. What the hell do I like about him that makes him so special?” She ran her hand through her hair as her emotions boiled over. “Oh my God. This has been a bloody joke!”

Good eye widening, Jayden thought frantically, then removed his cowboy hat and handed it to her. “Put this on!”

Eyes shimmering, she gave him a look of total ridiculousness. She placed the hat atop her head. “What the hell, Jay? Why am I wearing this?”

“Because cowgirls don’t cry.”

The most unsettling, deafening silence fell between them, as for several full seconds, Esther just stared at him. Then suddenly, and blatantly, she convulsed with hilarity. Hand raising to hold the hat in place, she leaned her head back and guffawed. “Jayden!” The words choked out through her tears. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”

He laughed, too. “Yeah, but you’re not cryin’ anymore!”

“I’m still crying, you noodle,” she said, wiping her eyes, “I’m just laughing in disbelief!”

“Yeah, but it was funny, right?”

Plopping back in the chair, she gazed at him contentedly. “Yes, Jay. That was utterly hilarious.”

“Aw’right, now you’re bein’ sarcastic.”

“Cowgirls don’t cry,” she mused mockingly. “That was priceless.” Tilting her head, she leered and set her hand atop the hat. “How do I look in this?”

Chuckling, he answered, “Hell of a lot better than Varya.”

“Oh really?” she asked incredulously.

“You look like you’re ready for a line dance.”

She cackled. “I’ll probably need a couple more beers before that.”

“Well get drinkin’.”

Lifting her glass, Esther swallowed a gulp. Making a face, she shook her head as if taken aback. She looked at the glass curiously. “These
do
start to taste better.”

Angling his head half-humorously, half-concernedly, Jayden said, “They aren’t supposed to start tasting better that fast.”

“It’s okay.” She waved him off. “I’m not even buzzed. I’m fine.” When he opened his mouth, she said, “I’m
fine
, cowboy.”

“Aw’right...”

Eyeing him smugly, she leaned back and looked around. “We’re like, the only customers in this bar.”

His brow furrowed, Jayden asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep. Hey,” she said, leaning forward, “so here’s the plan. I am going to completely forget about Scott Remington.” Her arms swayed with emphasis. “And you are going to forget about Varvara Yudina. We are moving on. It is over. Yee-haw!” Raising the hat, she leaned back and laughed hysterically.

“Okay, lightweight,” he said, grabbing her beer. “You’re done.”

Her hand grabbed the glass. “No! I’m not even buzzed. I’m having fun, Jayden. I haven’t had fun in so long.” Pulling the drink back to her, she asked, “What did you do for fun back in Texas?”

Finishing off his third glass, he made brief eye contact with the bartender. “You mean when I was a kid?”

“Yes. Or a young adult. Or whatever your preference.”

“Well I mean, we did lots of things.” As soon as the glass was refilled, he took another swig. “Mud ridin’, playin’ football—”

She cut him off. “Mud riding! That sounds
fun
. Let’s do it.”

“Uhh, what?”

“Let’s do it,” she said, nodding emphatically. “Let’s go mud riding. Do you do it on a horse?”

Snorting his beer mid-drink, he laughed and wiped his nose. “You don’t go mud ridin’ on a horse! You go on a three-wheeler or a four-wheeler.”

“Oh. So do you get real dirty?”

“Aw, yeah,” he said, “you get covered. By the time you’re finished everyone looks like a bunch’a—” He bit his tongue. “You know. Muddy people.”

Esther took another drink, nodding mid-gulp, then lowering the glass. “We’re doing it. We’re going to find some mud, and we’re going to do it. And Scott Remington and Varvara Yudina will
rue
the day they passed up such fun people.”

The whole while she spoke, Jayden watched her hold her beer. “You’re drinkin’ that way too fast.”

“I am drinking this fast because it tastes good.”

“But...it kinda doesn’t.”

She put her fist on the table, then pointed at him. “You, Mister Timmons, are a very suspicious fellow. You and your little suspicions.” She moved her finger in circles. “I say,
enough
!” Chortling brazenly, she went for the beer again.

The Texan snagged it. “You’re done.”

“Jay!”

“Nuh-uh. Your new limit’s one beer.”

Plopping back in her chair, she threw her hands out, looking at him much in the way a daughter would whine at her disciplinary father. “I’m not even buzzed!”

“Get up,” he said, pushing back his chair and throwing some money on the table. “We’re goin’ back to the room.”

She smirked at the payment. “Is that so I’ll line dance for you?”

“Yep. We’re done.”

The journey from Route 66 back to their room was among the most discombobulated walks Jayden had ever experienced. With seemingly every step she took, Esther grew goofier and goofier, the lowlight of the trip occurring when she grabbed a random passerby, looked him in the eyes, and said in the looniest voice possible, “We’re on a secret mission!” Thankfully, her drunkenness was as perfect an explanation for her outburst as Jayden could have come up with on his own.

It dawned on Jayden midway through the return trek that, beyond the nachos they’d eaten in the bar, none of them had consumed any decent amount of food since the flight from
Novosibirsk
—undoubtedly a factor in Esther’s quick intoxication. Though the Texan was far from impaired, even he began to feel subtle effects toward the end of the journey. Just the same, he was able to guide them both back to their room with no issues beyond the scout’s inclination to reveal their covert plans to total strangers.

As soon as the door was opened for her, Esther strutted into the room, swaying like a tree branch in a windstorm. Jayden’s cowboy hat was still firmly planted on her head, up until the point when she grabbed it and flung it like a flying disc atop her bed. “Thank you very much!” she proclaimed, rolling her head back and giggling.

“You’re so lucky Boris ain’t here,” Jayden said, locking the door and hurrying to her side, grabbing her before she stumbled over. “Okay, you’re getting’ in the shower.”

“What?”
she asked. “I refuse. I’m not even—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not even buzzed. I know.”

Spinning around and tipsy, she stuck her finger on his chest. “
You
just want to see me get
wet
, don’t you?”

“Esther, it’s not even three o’clock. You can’t go to bed this early! You gotta get sobered up.”

She waved her arms emphatically. “I refuse to get sobered up, because I am not drunk! I am merely observing the world for what it is.” She looked from side to side, then paused. “Leaning.”

“Okay, go in there, take your clothes off, and stand under some cold water.”

“Jayden,” she said whiningly, “you’re acting so lame. I have a better idea.” She pointed at his bed. “You sit down, and I am going to make you a nice mustard sandwich.” She cackled.

He spun her to face the bathroom. “Hurry up, go.”

“Seriously, Jay,” she said, turning to face him again. “They work wonders. Svetlana does it all the time.”

Escorting her into the bathroom, the Texan flicked on the light.

Esther raised a finger. “We should write a song about mustard sandwiches. Do you want to help me write it?”

“Come on, take your clothes off.”

“I refuse,” she said woozily. “Now quick, what rhymes with mustard?” Placing her by the corner, Jayden went to grab towels. She carried right on. “Custard. Flustered.” The scout paused. “Bustard.” Cracking up, she leaned against the wall. “
Bustard
! That’s a funny word!”

Setting the towels up, Jayden turned on the cold water.

“Then there’s mustered,” she said, gesturing pointedly. “And by mustered, I mean the other mustered. Not the
mustard
mustard.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Were you not paying attention? Do I need to repeat myself? I refuse.”

Walking back to her, he put his hands at her sides and looked her in the eyes. “Okay, I’m gonna leave the room, but when I do, you gotta get in the shower. You can’t just crash at three in the afternoon.”

“I,” she said, pushing her finger squarely into his chest, “refuse.” More giggles burst forth.

“Hey,” he said sincerely, holding her hand with his and looking at her, “I need you to listen to me.”

The moment their hands touched, Esther’s pupils dilated. Abruptly, her lips parted—as if she’d suddenly made a realization. Quietly, she breathed. “Oh my God, Jay. You are so perfect.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“You’re so perfect.”

Jayden didn’t even have time to blink. Closing her eyes, Esther grabbed him by the waist; the scout pulled him in. The next thing Jayden registered was her lips crashing against his, and the sensation of her tongue as it slipped between his teeth.

As the Texan went rigid, Esther’s hand traced up to the back of his neck, her fingers disappearing into his hair. Then, as suddenly as she’d begun, the Briton stopped. Mouths still locked, she stared at him bugeyed. Slowly, almost frighteningly, she eased her head back. Their lips broke contact.

Total quiet. Even the sound of the shower seemed to disappear into an awkward sea of silence. As Jayden stared at her through his good eye, Esther’s mouth hung open. “Oh,” she murmured. It was as red-handed as a soft utterance could be. It was the kind of sound that indicated one had made a brazen mistake. Apprehensively, the Briton touched her check. “I may be drunk.”

Voice shaking, Jayden swallowed and stepped back. “Yeah. I think you might be.”

“I didn’t mean what I just did,” she said breathlessly. “Or what I said before I did it. That was the mustard talking.”

“Yeah—what?”

“That was the alcohol talking.”

“Yeah.”

Her cheeks flushed, Esther brushed back her hair. “I had a really good time.”

Nodding without eye contact, Jayden said, “Yeah. I did, too.”

Once again, silence fell between them. Neither looked at the other—Jayden’s focus was squarely on the floor as Esther stared blankly at the shower. “I think I’m just going to take a nap,” she said.

“Okay.” The Texan’s response was quick, as if he wasn’t even thinking. “I’mma go...umm...you know, I think I’m gonna take a shower instead.”

“That’d be good.” Wincing, she bit her lip. “That’d be good, if you want it.” Self-disgust struck her.

He nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Their eyes were still averted from one another as the conversation skidded to an awkward close. Slipping past Jayden, Esther tiptoed out of the bathroom, never once turning around. Feeling behind her back, she found the doorknob and pulled the door shut. Jayden was left alone.

“Oh, man,” he whispered, rubbing his face with both his hands, then pushing them up through his hair. His eye, glazed and confused, bore into the spot where Esther had just been standing. Absently, the Texan licked his lips.

On the other side of the door, in their bedroom, Esther was lying flat on her back atop her bed. Her hands, too, were thrust up through the bangs of her hair; she gaped at the ceiling. Rolling over just enough to reach the lamp at her bedside, she clicked it off and pulled the covers over her head.

By the time Jayden finished his shower and wandered back into the bedroom, Esther was already snoring beneath her sheets. Despite his tipsiness, he threw on his proper uniform and made for the door. Locking it then easing it shut from the hall, the Texan walked away.

19

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14
^TH
, 0012 NE

1414 HOURS

NOVOSIBIRSK, RUSSIA

T
AUTHIN OPENED HIS
eyes slowly and deliberately, as he always did when something perked his senses. As far as Bakmanese personality was concerned, the captive officer favored the subtle side of the spectrum. His motions were faint and rarely indicative. Hands innocuously at his sides, he angled his head just enough to see Confinement’s doors open. Wuteel, the Bakma engineer from the cell opposite him, was being returned. Wuteel had been retrieved earlier that morning by several armed sentries. Where he’d gone was a mystery.