Page 22 of Empowereds

“My father doesn’t choose what the visions tell him.”

If Charity untied Enzo now, he’d bolt. She sat down on his lap and ran her hand across his cheek. She felt brave and reckless. Again, probably due to lack of sleep. Or maybe she was being influenced because even tied up and bruised, Enzo was gorgeous.

Her hand went to his temple and brushed away tendrils of mussed hair, then traced his jawline. His skin underneath her fingertips felt electric, forbidden fruit that was no longer forbidden. It was hard to imagine that back before truth serum, people hadn’t been afraid to touch each other.

Enzo didn’t move his head or do anything to stop her, just watched her with languid, curious eyes, seeing how far she would take this.

She wasn’t sure herself.

She brushed one finger across his mouth. He still didn’t turn his head. In fact, his lips parted ever so slightly. Despite everything, their chemistry pulsed as strong as ever. He’d said he cared for her. Maybe she really could turn him into an ally.

She put her hands on his shoulders and dropped soft kisses on his lips. His skin still smelled faintly of the harvester soap. It had only been last night that she’d noticed the scent on him. Now that moment seemed to have happened ages ago.

She left a trail of kisses across his cheek to the corner of his ear. He didn’t say anything.

She could get up, go make something to eat, and let him think about her words. That was probably the best thing to do.

But somehow her lips traveled down his neck. When she ran into his shirt collar, she unbuttoned his top two buttons.

His chest rose and fell, taking deep breaths. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

She wound her arms lazily around his neck, letting her fingers trail through his hair.

His eyes were open, watching her. She kissed his bottom lip, then his top. His mouth didn’t move, didn’t return the kiss.

“I thought you were voting for the baby option,” she murmured. “Did you change your mind?”

His voice had become husky. “You don’t actually want to do this.”

“I considered my options. This seemed like the best one.” She undid a few more of his shirt buttons, kissing his neck as she slid each one apart.

“This shouldn’t be something you’re doing because it’s a better option than torture…” His breath caught.

She was gliding her hand across his chest. The touch of his skin under her fingertips was mesmerizing. Soft, warm, and she could feel his heart beating.

He said nothing for a few moments, just took long breaths. “Although, I suppose I could be wrong.” His words were uneven. “After all, there might be something to your father’s visions. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize world peace.”

“That’s noble of you.”

“I’m only thinking of the countless masses.”

Charity smiled and her mouth moved to his again. This time he kissed her back—slow when she went slow, gentle when she nibbled on his bottom lip, and then none of those things, only impatient.

He tugged at his arms in frustration. “You’ll have to untie me, or this won’t work.”

Could she trust him enough yet to release him? She dropped kisses on his neck again. “I don’t think I should untie you.”

“Well, one of us has done this before, and it isn’t you.”

The words jolted her so much, she pulled away from him. When Enzo had said he hadn’t dated since he was nineteen, she’d supposed he was as inexperienced as herself. But of course, she’d been stupid to suppose anything. “You’ve done this before? How many times?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at her with an incredulous expression. “You want a number?”

So, a lot then. He couldn’t keep track. She stood up and put a hand to her brow. “How many different women?”

He sighed, aggravated. “You’re acting like you just found out that I cheated on you.” His tone turned wry. “Relax, darling. It was before your time. After I met you last month, there’s been no one else for me.”

And now he was mocking her.

It was one straw too many, and like the proverbial camel, she broke. Nothing with Enzo had gone the way she’d expected. He’d never been who or what she’d supposed. He wasn’t at all like Atticus Finch, George Bailey, or Petrarch. He was James No-Commitment Bond—someone witty and charming and horrible.

She lifted her hands in frustration. “I don’t know why I expected something different. I don’t know why I thought you’d saved yourself for marriage.” Her fingers went to her temples. “Oh wait, yes, I do. I expected it because I was saving myself for you.”

He huffed in disbelief. “You didn’t know me until three weeks ago. If you wanted someone saintly, you should’ve kidnapped a clergyman to marry at gunpoint.”

He didn’t understand. “When I told you that my father had a vision of us getting married, did you think I meant it was a recent thing? He had it when I was fifteen. We’ve been waiting for you to show up ever since. I’ve been waiting for you. And I thought…” She thought he would be like her, or at the very least, love her.

But he didn’t. He never would. This was all a joke to him.

She couldn’t say more. The stress of the last day and the weight of a sleepless night were too much. “I can’t do this.”

She stormed past him to her parents’ bedroom, slammed the door, and curled into a ball on the bed. Tears came. She couldn’t stop them, although she held the pillow to her face to muffle the sound. She cried for every hope and anticipation of Enzo that had been crushed in the last day, for a future that had turned to dust.

Why had she thought she loved him? He was cynical and ruthless, a person who hunted Empowereds and slept with women he hadn’t cared enough about to even consider girlfriends.

Charity had come here with him like the vision said, and now she had no idea what to do next or how marrying Enzo affected anything except for her faith in humanity, which had continually plunged since last night.

Having a baby was out of the question. Sorry, chosen one. Sorry, world that needed saving. Maybe her marriage was never meant to be a real one. Maybe for some counterintuitive reason, her parents were safer because they’d traveled to the cabin to drop her off.

That said, what was she supposed to do while stuck with Enzo for two weeks? She shut her eyes, searching for options. Staying up all night had taken its toll, though. Even with the threat of a trained enemy combatant in the kitchen, she fell asleep in minutes.

A crashing sound awakened her. She opened her eyes, unsure where she was or what was happening. The clock on the nightstand read 10:02. The cabin nightstand. Then she remembered. She stood up, cursing herself for falling asleep. Enzo was up to something.

She needed a weapon. The gun? No, if he’d escaped, he might take it from her. And besides, in the press of the moment, she couldn’t remember the safe’s combination. She grabbed the only thing she could use as a club—a broom that sat in the corner of the room.

She cautiously opened the door, broom raised. Enzo was still tied to the chair, but it had tipped over, and he lay on his side on the floor.

She lowered the broom. “What are you doing?”

“I’m hungry. I tried to get something to eat.”

She propped the broom against the wall and went to the chair. “You could have asked me to bring you something. I’ll make omelets.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your crying jag. I’m sure you had a long list of my faults to catalog and weep over.”

“There are a lot of them. Like the fact that you’re a liar.” The scissors lay on the floor next to him. Impressive. How had he managed to get those out of the drawer?

She ran a finger along the back of the chair. “You’ve cut most of the way through the tape here.” The handcuffs were still on. He wouldn’t be able to get those off so easily.

He let out an indignant grunt. “You abducted me and tied me up. I have a right to try and escape. And by the way, a professional kidnapper would wield a better weapon than a broom.”

“I fell asleep, and it was the first thing I grabbed.”

“Amateur.”

She needed to set the chair upright again. She attempted the task, but his weight made it impossible. The chair just slid on the concrete floor.

“You can’t lift me up,” he said. “You’ll have to untie me.”

“Don’t underestimate a harvester’s strength.” She tried again. Didn’t manage it. “How much do you weigh?”

“My arms are going numb, and my shoulders feel like they’re going to pop out of their sockets. You need to take these handcuffs off.”

She looked upward as though considering it. “Hmm. Do I feel like being strangled by a government operative in my kitchen? Nope. Not really.”

“I won’t strangle you. I promise.”

“How would I know you’d keep that promise?”

“I didn’t shoot you when I had the chance. Why would I strangle you now?”

“Maybe you’ve thought better of your earlier decision.”

She slid the chair across the floor until it pressed up against the wall, sat down on the floor next to him, and tried to push it up. No success.

He tugged at the tape, further ripping it. “If you take off the handcuffs, I can help push myself up. My legs will still be bound to the chair. If I try to free them,” he nodded in the direction of the broom, “you can sweep me up or whatever you planned to do with that.”

She wasn’t sure whether she loved or hated that he could still joke around while being held prisoner. “I need to find something to use as leverage.” From her place on the floor, she gazed around the cabin searching for something that would work.

He lifted his head and fixed her with his gaze. “If you untie me, I promise on my father’s grave not to hurt you.”

“You’ve already hurt me.”

“Come on. You can’t actually blame me for not saving myself for you. You may have had visions to guide you, but I had no idea that one day I’d be abducted by a woman with really high moral standards.”

She’d meant his betrayal at the farm but didn’t correct him. “The broom will break if I try to use it for leverage. I’ll have to take apart a bed and use one of the rails. Might take a while.”

Her gaze went to his shirt and the open buttons. She shouldn’t leave him like that, lying against the cold concrete.

She leaned over him and fastened his lowest button. It shouldn’t have felt sensual, but he was watching her do it, and somehow every button she fastened was a reminder that not long ago, she’d kissed his neck while she undid them.

“You don’t have to stay with your family,” he said. “If you come with me to Kansas City. I’ll explain your innocence to the authorities and make sure you’re taken care of. You could live a normal life. You wouldn’t have to do manual labor, traveling from place to place to evade authorities. You wouldn’t have to worry about running into raiders every time you needed groceries. You’d be happy there.”

Doubtful. Not while her family was on the run.

“My mother would love you,” he went on. “She always wanted a daughter-in-law. Think of her as you answer.”

Charity shook her head and finished the last button. “Sorry.”

“Charity.” All the teasing left his voice. He was serious and desperate. “You can’t keep me cuffed for two weeks. Untie me and I promise, with an unbreakable oath on my father’s honor, that I won’t hurt you. If I break that oath, I’ll turn in my badge and tell my ex-colleagues to throw me in jail for assault.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. She had to untie him eventually. The longer she waited, the angrier he’d be with her. It might as well be now. “You also have to promise never to do anything that would hurt my family. You can’t keep hunting my father or give the authorities any information about us or even about this cabin.”

He paused, then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”

“And not just on your father’s honor. You have to promise on your mother’s safety.”

“Are you threatening my mother?” He pulled a face. “Maybe she wouldn’t like you after all.”

“And you also have to promise on the memory of your dead girlfriend too.”

Enzo’s eyebrows rose in question. “Why her?”

“Because I think she’s the last person you actually loved.” He flinched, proof enough Charity was right. “What was her name?”

He seemed to chew on the word before finally speaking. “Kitra.”

Kitra. Now Charity had a name for the woman Enzo loved. She’d been beautiful, no doubt. Probably dark-haired and cultured. The opposite of Charity in every way.

Charity tried to banish the image her mind created of an elegant, smiling woman. “Do you promise on your father’s honor, your mother’s safety, and Kitra’s memory that you’ll never hurt me, my family, or do anything that would help the government catch us?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. No detectable deception. “Although I can’t vouch for anything I’ll say if the authorities give me truth serum.”

“Do they use that on their own officers?”

“Not unless they think you’re lying.”

“Then I guess it’s fortunate you’re such a good liar.”

“I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”

She got the scissors and cut through the rest of the tape on his arms and his feet. When that was done, she took the handcuff key from her pocket. Her hands trembled from nerves, making it hard to insert the key. He’d given her his word not to hurt her. She’d be fine. With a click and a twist, the cuffs loosened on his wrists.

He sat up stiffly and shook out his arms, opening and shutting his hands. “Thank you. That’s much better.”

She slid the key back into her pocket, then picked up the chair and put the scissors and handcuffs on the counter. “I’m relying on your honor and your common sense. I can’t keep you here by force or watch you all of the time. If you want to walk out the door, you can.

“I know you’ll be tempted to run away as soon as the feeling comes back to your body, but don’t do it. The wilderness isn’t safe, only the cabin is. To be protected, we have to stay here for two weeks like the vision instructed. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” He gingerly touched a spot on his head just under his hairline. When his hand left his head, a spot of blood colored his fingers.

“What happened?” she asked in alarm.

“I hit my head on the floor when I fell over.” He touched the spot again and grimaced.

He might have a concussion. “You should have told me.” She went to the bathroom and retrieved the first aid kit. When she came back, he was taking ice cubes out of the freezer and dropping them into a dish towel.

She checked to make sure his pupils dilated and pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment. “Let me see the wound.”

He tilted his head down so she could see the spot. “You can’t stop yourself, can you?”

She parted his hair to reveal a swollen lump oozing with blood. “Stop myself from what?”

“Stop yourself from taking care of people.”

She dabbed ointment on the wound. “If you died of infection, the government would have one more reason to hunt us.”

He gave her an assessing look. “This is why you had so much trouble at the market when you had to kill slavers. It isn’t that you’re weaker than Milo and Zia. It’s that you want to help people. Burning and shooting them goes against your nature.”

Why was he telling her this? “You’ve figured me out, have you? Is that part of your police training?”

“To be effective, you’ve got to know who you’re dealing with.”

She put the tube back into the kit and snapped it shut. “What else do you know about me?”

He pushed strands of hair off his forehead. “You’re too smart to hang around with your family, but you’ll stay with them anyway because you’re also ridiculously loyal.”

“And I thought you were going to try flattery.”

“That is flattery. I don’t think you’re crazy, just your parents are. Probably Milo too.”

“You’re really bad at flattery. Just saying.”

His eyes went to hers, lingered there. “You’re also beautiful.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “That’s a little better as far as flattery goes.”

She turned to take the first aid kit back. He put his hand on her arm to stop her. “Don’t go yet. I’m only getting started.”

She tilted her head. “You have a long list, do you?”

“Very long.” He took the kit from her hand and put it back on the counter.

She narrowed her eyes, considering him. “You may have a concussion after all.”

He laughed and stepped closer. “And you’re modest. That’s another one on your list. You’re not nearly as used to hearing compliments as you should be.”

He was flirting. Why? She took a step backward. “What are you up to, Enzo? What do you want?”

He took another step toward her, nearly pressing her against the counter. He took hold of her hand, brought it to his lips, and dropped a light kiss on her knuckles. “You’ve been playing with my shirt buttons all morning. What do you think I want?”

Oh. She didn’t know how to react. She’d already resigned herself to Enzo’s disinterest and had decided not to lie back and think of England. And now… Her mind searched for an ulterior reason he was acting this way. What did he have to gain? “You’ve changed your mind about us?”

He put his hands on her waist. “I’m not the one who changed my mind earlier. That was you. I told you to untie me so we could have a baby and save the world.”

“I thought you only wanted me to untie you so you could escape.”

“You underestimate your charms.” He slipped a hand behind the nape of her neck and kissed her. A soft kiss, an eager one. His lips moved to her ear. “I’m dedicated to saving the world.”

He didn’t give her time to respond before his lips returned to hers. Which was fine because she didn’t know what to say. Critical thought was dwindling. She had set out to seduce him, and he was seducing her.

Enzo had promised not to hurt her family. Perhaps she just needed to show him the reasons he should stay with her.

His hands roamed over her back, then one returned to tangle in her hair. His kisses were no longer soft, they were urgent, deep, and impatient. Enzo put her hand on his shirt buttons, and the message was clear. He wanted her to undo them.

All of this was beginning to feel very real. It was no longer just an abstract idea of whether she should become a mother. And okay, the guy looked amazing shirtless, but he was a police officer, a man who’d spent the last three weeks pretending to be someone else.

This was happening too fast. She came up for air. “Should we really be doing this … I mean…”

He interrupted her sentence by dropping a light kiss on her lips. “You don’t need to worry.”

“But I…”

“You’re worrying.” Another kiss. He was back to the soft ones. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. If you only want to kiss, that’s all we’ll do.” More soft kisses, soft hands as well, feather-light touches, lulling her, making reason fade away.

“Just kissing,” she agreed. That would be okay. They were married. And melting into him was easy. Her whole body tingled.

She hadn’t been fast enough with his buttons. He undid the last few and tossed his shirt on the floor. Her hands had nowhere to go but his bare chest. “Are we still just kissing?” she asked.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“It seems like we’re doing more than that.”

His hands went along the waist of her jeans. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“What?”

“That you are much too pretty to spend your time hidden away harvesting. You ought to be somewhere in a red evening gown making men grovel for your attention.”

“You thought that while we chased chickens?”

“I saw you before that, when I was talking to Milo.”

“Oh.” She wondered what she’d done at the time to conjure up images of evening gowns.

He took her right hand, brought it to his lips and kissed her fingertips, then her wrist. She’d never known that people kissed hands that way. It was enthralling.

“What did you think when you first saw me?” he asked.

“I thought I would have an easy time falling in love with you.”

He smiled. “Even if you knew that you probably shouldn’t?”

Those were the words she’d said to him when she’d been under the influence of the truth serum. “Back when I first saw you, I didn’t know that I shouldn’t.” She curled her fingers around his. “You think all Empowereds are bad. Give us a chance to prove there’s an exception.” She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I want you to trust us. I want to trust you.”

“I know.” He shifted his weight, pushing her closer to the fridge. His hand still held hers. “And that makes what I have to do next even more difficult.”

His hand tightened around her wrist. She didn’t understand, at least not until she saw the handcuffs in his other hand.

“No!” She tried to yank her arm away from his grip but couldn’t, couldn’t twist away from him when his weight was pushing into her. She could only watch as he clasped the handcuff around her wrist and closed the other end on the fridge’s handle.

“Sorry,” he said and stepped away from her.

She gritted her teeth. “You promised!”

“I promised not to hurt you, and I won’t.” He picked up his shirt from the floor and put it on. “But I don’t think your parents will stay away for two weeks. As soon as it occurs to them that you’re naive enough to set me free, they’ll burn rubber back here.”

She felt her pocket for the key. It was gone. How had he gotten both the handcuffs and the key? The answer came to her immediately. He’d taken the handcuffs when she’d gone to the bathroom for the first aid kit. He’d only kissed her so he could retrieve the key from her pocket.

So unnecessary. “Why are you doing this? You could’ve just walked out the door. I can’t stop you.”

He buttoned up his shirt with quick motions. “You wouldn’t have let me take half the food, and I’m going to need it. Water bottles too. And other provisions. I’m guessing we’re several days’ hike from civilization. I don’t suppose you have a map anywhere?”

“You want to go somewhere? I can tell you where to go.”

“Harsh.” He opened the cupboards and took stock of the cans there.

She yanked at the cuff. “Leaving me cuffed to a fridge for two weeks is hurting me. You’re breaking your oath.”

“When I go, I’ll leave the key by the front door. You’ll be able to drag the fridge over there and get it.” He disappeared into the hallway.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. He would see reason. He had to. “I explained to you about the vision,” she called. “You can’t leave. Something bad will happen if you do.”

He came back wearing a jacket. He carried a pillowcase and had one of the family’s camping backpacks with an attached sleeping bag. “Will something bad happen to me or someone else?”

“Does that matter? Do you only look out for yourself?”

“Today I am.” He opened the drawer, pawed through the utensils, and took out the can opener. “If you only have one of these, I suggest you ration the food in the fridge.” He slipped the can opener into the backpack’s side pocket.

She yanked at the cuff again, not because she thought it would break but because anger made standing still impossible. “I’ve never doubted my father’s visions until now. But there is no way we were supposed to end up together.”

Enzo dropped cans of food into the backpack and pillowcase. “Look, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve dealt with more psychics than you have. Their visions don’t lead to good things. They lead to passwords for bank accounts, nuclear arms sites, and secret telephone numbers so that they can bribe and blackmail people. They don’t have visions to keep people safe on their honeymoons.”

“My father is different.”

“You’re too right about that, but it doesn’t make him less dangerous.” Enzo filled water bottles at the sink and put them into the backpack. “Oh, and although your offer is tempting, I’m going to pass on the baby. I would never abandon my child to be raised by some whacked-out cult. I’ll have our marriage annulled when I get back to the city. That way, you won’t have to worry about it.”

The words stung, made her cheeks burn in humiliation. She’d been so eager to believe he cared about her, so easy to fool. “Do you not think something bad will happen if you leave now, or do you just not care?”

He added a kitchen knife to his stash and shut the backpack. “Neither. I believe something worse will happen if I stay.” He checked the computer screen by the door with all of its views of the surrounding area. They must have been clear. He placed the handcuff’s key on the floor by the door. “Better luck on your next marriage.”

Then he was gone.