Page 59
Story: Power Term
“Want some help blowing?” I shuffle from foot to foot, my anxious gaze darting from above the door to directly below it, where Trey attempts to stoke our measly fire.
“Sure. You are a good blower. I know this from experience.” He tilts his head up, a wide mischievous smile on his blood-splattered face.
“Thanks?” On tiptoes, I maneuver around the stairs’ supports and squat beside Trey. The T-shirt’s damp fabric slides beneath my chin as I rest it on his shoulder. I inhale deeply, pushing past the tightness in my lungs and the ache in my ribs before letting out a steady stream of breath directly toward the glowing, charred sheet.
We alternate stoking the growing flicker until it’s bright orange end dances close to the dingy floral cover of the mattress. Crossing my fingers and toes, I watch with hope and fascination as the fabric melts with the heat. Foul-smelling black smoke rises from the burn marks, floating up and over the edge of the mattress.
Additional smoke billows upward as the mattress finally catches and burns without our assistance.
Trey turns with a proud smile, the tips of our noses brushing.
“Well done,” I whisper. Reaching out, I wipe a few speckles of blood from his cheek. “I knew you’d save me.”
“I’ll always come for you, Randi. Always.” A frown dips his lips. Unable to stop myself, I place a soft kiss to each corner. “I tried to get to you sooner. It was actually Vlad who gave us the coordinates to the warehouse. Ponder covered—”
“Ponder,” I huff. “I knew I recognized that voice.”
A profound line forms between Trey’s dark brows. “How did you not know it was him? Was he not at the warehouse with Whit?”
I nod, the small movement rolling my brain around my skull. “He kept his face covered the entire time. But I knew I recognized the voice and figured out he was an agent at some point. I haven’t seen him since Shawn had him smack me around to make me compliant or whatever the hell he was trying to achieve.”
Trey’s face hardens. Placing a palm to his cheek, I shake my head, wanting to chase away the self-accusing thoughts I know are rolling through his mind because he didn’t get there sooner. “Besides a few bruises, I’m fine. You came for me, Trouble. I didn’t let them break me because I knew, Iknewwithout a doubt you’d find me. And look, here we are about to turn the tables on the asshole.” Sitting back on my heels, I give him a smile that probably looks like a grimace. “We really need to get out of here though. I need to get back to work.”
“Everyone is looking for you. It’s the first time I’ve seen all the different agencies work together for a sole focus.”
“What about Sam?”
“They moved him to a bunker the moment we realized you were taken.”
“Taeler?”
“What do you think?”
“Hysterical.” My laugh turns into a groan. Wrapping a protective arm around my waist, I offer a small smile. “Think this is enough cover for you to do your Rambo act?”
“Rambo act?” Bones and joints crack as he stands. Hands on his hips, he towers over where I still kneel. Heat flares behind those honey eyes as he reaches forward to run a hand over my matted hair. “Fuck, Mess. Even with your face bruised and swollen, you’re beautiful.”
The sound of stomping boots and shouts snaps his attention above us.
The hand cupping the back of my head glides forward, dangling in the air between us. Slipping my hand into his, I allow him to pull me up. He wraps both arms around my shoulders, tugging me into a gentle hug.
“I need you to find cover wherever you can find it and make a break for it the moment you get a chance. Once you’re out of this fucking house, do not stop running—”
“What about you?” His sweat-slick shirt sticks to my chest and cheek.
“I have unfinished business with that psycho upstairs.”
“That sounds ominous,” I say as I pull back to see him staring straight up, almost like he can see through the landing, past the door, and into the rest of the house.
“I’ll enjoy killing him.”
That should not be a turn-on.
“Something is really wrong with me,” I mutter as I step out of his hold.
“That makes two of us, because I’m so fucking hard it hurts.” I track the movement as he grips his cock over those sexy pants. “If I thought we had time, I would’ve kept you on your knees for a little longer. Now repeat what I said.”
“You're so hard it hurts.” My voice is deeper than usual, husky with the need pumping through my veins and tightening my gut.
“Sure. You are a good blower. I know this from experience.” He tilts his head up, a wide mischievous smile on his blood-splattered face.
“Thanks?” On tiptoes, I maneuver around the stairs’ supports and squat beside Trey. The T-shirt’s damp fabric slides beneath my chin as I rest it on his shoulder. I inhale deeply, pushing past the tightness in my lungs and the ache in my ribs before letting out a steady stream of breath directly toward the glowing, charred sheet.
We alternate stoking the growing flicker until it’s bright orange end dances close to the dingy floral cover of the mattress. Crossing my fingers and toes, I watch with hope and fascination as the fabric melts with the heat. Foul-smelling black smoke rises from the burn marks, floating up and over the edge of the mattress.
Additional smoke billows upward as the mattress finally catches and burns without our assistance.
Trey turns with a proud smile, the tips of our noses brushing.
“Well done,” I whisper. Reaching out, I wipe a few speckles of blood from his cheek. “I knew you’d save me.”
“I’ll always come for you, Randi. Always.” A frown dips his lips. Unable to stop myself, I place a soft kiss to each corner. “I tried to get to you sooner. It was actually Vlad who gave us the coordinates to the warehouse. Ponder covered—”
“Ponder,” I huff. “I knew I recognized that voice.”
A profound line forms between Trey’s dark brows. “How did you not know it was him? Was he not at the warehouse with Whit?”
I nod, the small movement rolling my brain around my skull. “He kept his face covered the entire time. But I knew I recognized the voice and figured out he was an agent at some point. I haven’t seen him since Shawn had him smack me around to make me compliant or whatever the hell he was trying to achieve.”
Trey’s face hardens. Placing a palm to his cheek, I shake my head, wanting to chase away the self-accusing thoughts I know are rolling through his mind because he didn’t get there sooner. “Besides a few bruises, I’m fine. You came for me, Trouble. I didn’t let them break me because I knew, Iknewwithout a doubt you’d find me. And look, here we are about to turn the tables on the asshole.” Sitting back on my heels, I give him a smile that probably looks like a grimace. “We really need to get out of here though. I need to get back to work.”
“Everyone is looking for you. It’s the first time I’ve seen all the different agencies work together for a sole focus.”
“What about Sam?”
“They moved him to a bunker the moment we realized you were taken.”
“Taeler?”
“What do you think?”
“Hysterical.” My laugh turns into a groan. Wrapping a protective arm around my waist, I offer a small smile. “Think this is enough cover for you to do your Rambo act?”
“Rambo act?” Bones and joints crack as he stands. Hands on his hips, he towers over where I still kneel. Heat flares behind those honey eyes as he reaches forward to run a hand over my matted hair. “Fuck, Mess. Even with your face bruised and swollen, you’re beautiful.”
The sound of stomping boots and shouts snaps his attention above us.
The hand cupping the back of my head glides forward, dangling in the air between us. Slipping my hand into his, I allow him to pull me up. He wraps both arms around my shoulders, tugging me into a gentle hug.
“I need you to find cover wherever you can find it and make a break for it the moment you get a chance. Once you’re out of this fucking house, do not stop running—”
“What about you?” His sweat-slick shirt sticks to my chest and cheek.
“I have unfinished business with that psycho upstairs.”
“That sounds ominous,” I say as I pull back to see him staring straight up, almost like he can see through the landing, past the door, and into the rest of the house.
“I’ll enjoy killing him.”
That should not be a turn-on.
“Something is really wrong with me,” I mutter as I step out of his hold.
“That makes two of us, because I’m so fucking hard it hurts.” I track the movement as he grips his cock over those sexy pants. “If I thought we had time, I would’ve kept you on your knees for a little longer. Now repeat what I said.”
“You're so hard it hurts.” My voice is deeper than usual, husky with the need pumping through my veins and tightening my gut.
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