Page 37 of Silver Elite

I stumble into the hallway, covered in blood.

Dazed.

Kaine is waiting outside another door, shocked at the sight of me. “Wren. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I killed Bryce.”

My chest heaves on a ragged breath, the reality of what just transpired crashing down on me like a tidal wave.

And then the tears start falling.

Without a word, Kaine wraps his arms around me, pulling me close as I collapse against him, my body racked with silent sobs.

“She wouldn’t tap out. I stabbed her and accidentally hit an artery.” My voice is hoarse. I can’t stop shaking.

He holds me tighter, one hand stroking my hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I…I didn’t mean to…I was just trying to stop her.”

“It’s okay,” he repeats. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

His words offer little solace. The weight of my actions presses down on my chest until I can no longer breathe, gasping for air, and the guilt, the shame, only burns hotter when a door opens and a man steps out. It’s Bryce’s father.

God. Her father.

Fear flickers through me when our gazes lock. My hands are stained with his daughter’s blood. I know he can see it.

To my utter disbelief, he doesn’t condemn me with his eyes or his words. He simply nods as if to say Good work and then marches down the hall, right past the room where his daughter’s bloody, motionless body lies.

I let out an unsteady exhalation, sagging against Kaine again. I feel hollow. Broken.

“You’re okay.” His fingers thread through my hair, soft and reassuring. “I promise.”

“Sutler. Darlington.”

Cross’s sharp voice echoes in the hallway.

Kaine and I break apart. My legs feel weak as I turn to find Cross in the center of the corridor. Face expressionless, he gives me a once-over. He focuses on the blood, then glances at Kaine.

“You’re dismissed, Sutler. Report to your new quarters.”

Kaine seems reluctant to go, but when I give him a slight nod, he walks away, leaving me alone with Cross. My heartbeat is not at all steady.

When Cross speaks again, it’s brusque, impassive. “You had no choice. She was going to kill you.”

“Fuck you.”

“She wouldn’t have tapped out.”

“Fuck you,” I repeat, and swallow hard. Another onslaught of tears threatens, but I refuse to cry in front of him. “May I be dismissed?”

“Report to Medical first. Get that stitched up.” He nods at my arm.

“It’s already stopped bleeding,” I mutter.

“Get it looked at,” he says in a tone that invites no argument. “Take her to Medical.”

I realize he’s addressing someone behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see Tyler Struck approaching.

Despite my protests, she escorts me to the Medical building. Outside the door, she stops and touches my arm, her eyes flickering with sympathy. “She was a staple, Darlington. She wasn’t going to tap.”

“I know that,” I say flatly. “But that doesn’t make it any better. Did anyone else die today?”

She shakes her head. “Everyone tapped.”

“Oh great. So I’m the only murderer in the bunch.”

I stalk past her into the Med ward, where one of the nurses cleans up the wounds on my arm and neck, rubs a regen ointment over them, and sends me on my way without so much as a bandage.

In the barracks I make a beeline for the showers, despite the nurse ordering me not to get the ointment wet for at least an hour. I don’t care. I need to wash the blood away. The shame. I strip off my clothes and burst into the nearest stall, cranking the faucet. I stand under the hot spray and watch the blood spiral down the drain in swirls of pinkish water.

Why didn’t she tap out?

Why didn’t she fucking tap out?

Why didn’t you tap out? demands an internal voice, harsh and unforgiving.

The voice is right.

Why am I blaming the dead girl?

I did this. I chose to kill her. I could have said screw Elite and not continued the fight. I could have let Bryce have it. But I didn’t. I’m just as bad as she is. Just as pathetic.

I lean against the tiled wall, naked, defeated. Then I open a path and reach out to Adrienne, getting right to the point once she links.

“I’m in Silver Elite.”

“Excellent. We’ll be in touch. ”

That’s it.

Excellent. We’ll be in touch.

A woman’s life in exchange for two sentences, five words. Five. Words. And all I had to do was kill someone whose biggest crime was wanting to please her father. Yes, Bryce could be insufferable at times. Smug. An entitled brat. But she didn’t deserve to die.

I turn off the water and get dressed in the locker area. There’s a message on my source telling me to pack my gear and report to a building on the base.

In the bunks, I find Kaine waiting by my bed. His gaze softens at my approach. “You all right, cowgirl?”

“No. But I will be eventually.”

He watches as I zip my duffel. “There’s a truck outside to take us to the new quarters. I waited for you.”

“Thanks.”

After a beat of hesitation, he pulls me into his arms. There’s no hesitation on my part—I press my cheek against his muscular chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

“I didn’t want to kill her.” My voice is muffled against his shirt.

“I know.” He strokes the small of my back. “We do a lot of things we don’t want to do.”

“Do you know who else made it into Elite?”

“Ugh. Yeah.” I lift my head in time to see him grimace. “Kess. Anson.”

Of course.

“Jones. You and me, obviously. And the sixth slot went to a woman from Red Cell.”

He releases me from his embrace. “Come on, let’s go check out our new home.”

—

Our soldiers’ quarters are in a three-story building on the other side of the base. I’m on the first floor. Kaine is on the third. We say our goodbyes downstairs, and he promises he’ll find me later in the mess hall. I tell him I’ll probably skip dinner. Stabbing someone in the femoral artery and watching them bleed out in seconds really kills your appetite.

I examine my new quarters and like what I see. It’s a suite with a bedroom, a tiny living area, and a private bathroom. The bed is a double, which is an upgrade from the bunks. The armchair in the living space looks cozy. And in the bedroom closet, I discover hangers of clothes. Not just uniforms, either, although there are several new iterations of those with my new Command ID, a sole star to indicate I’m no longer a recruit, but a soldier. But I also find some plain cotton dresses, sweaters, a pair of jeans. Two drawers at the bottom of the closet contain socks, bras, underwear, and sleepwear. I don’t know who picked everything out, but I’m grateful for them as I change into loose pants and a tank top.

I’ve just finished unpacking the meager belongings in my duffel when there’s a knock on the door.

I open it to find Cross at the threshold.

Without a word, I let him in.

“Are you going to tell me to fuck off again?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Are you going to tell me you got me out of your system?”

I shake my head.

“Good.”

He strides forward with purpose, his tall frame towering over me as he backs me toward the small desk in the living area. He lifts me onto it while his gaze travels over me like a warm caress, gliding down my body, focusing on the way my tank top clings to my braless breasts.

His long fingers skim the waistband of my pants, dipping beneath it to tease my skin.

He gives me a questioning look.

I nod.

Neither of us speaks as I lift my hips so he can slide my pants off. He drags them down my legs, along with my underwear, and tosses them aside. He places his palms on my thighs, watching my face. Then, with his eyes on mine, he spreads my legs open.

I draw a deep breath. Waiting to see what he’ll do next.

His voice is rough as he says, “Are you still thinking about what happened?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll make you forget.”

He sinks to his knees, which brings a weak smile to my lips. “I like seeing you kneel.”

A wicked smile tugs on his lips. “This is the only context in which you’ll ever see me doing it. So enjoy it while you can.”

As I watch, he kisses a path along my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where I need him most. When his mouth finds me, I arch my back in pleasure and tangle my fingers through his dark hair to keep him in place.

He chuckles, glancing up at me. “I’m not going anywhere, Dove. Nowhere else I want to be right now.”

Every stroke of his tongue, every brush of his lips over my sensitive flesh, succeeds in erasing the visceral pain and guilt that followed me out of that tiny room.

He’s relentless. Attentive. Thorough. As if his sole purpose in life is to make me feel good, to make me forget. And he succeeds. My entire world has been reduced to what he’s doing to me with his tongue.

He moans in approval when he brings his finger to my opening and finds me slick for him. He slips the finger inside. Gentle. A slow glide.

I bite my lip to keep from crying out in bliss.

Mesmerizing blue eyes focus on my face as his finger moves inside me. His thumb teases the sensitive spot that’s swollen and aching for him.

“I told you I wanted you to find a way to control yourself. Do you remember?”

I nod. His gaze is hypnotic.

He slips another finger inside and I whimper.

“I don’t want that right now.”

“You want me to lose control?” My voice comes out hoarse.

“No, not lose it. Cede control to me. Give me what I want. Can you do that?”

He lowers his head before I can respond, sliding his tongue over that aching bud.

I sag back on my elbows. My head bumps the wall, but I don’t care. All I can do is rock my hips in time to the strokes of his tongue and fingers, my heels resting on his broad shoulders. The tension builds inside me. Pleasure dances through my muscles, weakening them, laboring my breathing.

“There you go,” Cross coaxes, then holds me steady as I completely come apart.

My entire world shatters. Nothing exists but the release shuddering through me.

I’m still floating down from the high when he stands up, tugging on the hem of my tank top. He drops it to the floor and I’m naked for him now. Exposed. I reach for his shirt, helping him pull it off, my hands exploring his hard male flesh. Chiseled planes and sculpted abs. His muscles quiver as I tease my hand up his chest toward his face. My fingertips scrape the whiskers on his cheek, the dark stubble coating his jaw.

“Take off your pants,” I whisper.

His gaze never leaves mine as he snaps open the button. Tugs on the zipper. I help him shove the waistband down and squeeze his muscular ass when it’s exposed to my touch. He plants kisses along my jawline, down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

When his tongue finds my nipple, I momentarily forget I’m supposed to be getting him naked. He sucks it into his mouth, and I release a throaty noise of approval. He’s still teasing my nipples when I remember I want him inside me.

“ Pants, ” I growl.

Chuckling, he kicks his pants away, and his cock springs out, thick and hard. He’s given me an orgasm, yet he hasn’t even kissed me, and suddenly I’m desperate to feel his mouth on mine. I yank his head down and he gets the hint, capturing my lips with his. Then he gathers me in his arms, and I hook my legs around his waist as our mouths fuse. He walks the five short steps toward the bedroom and lowers me onto the mattress, curling his strong body over mine.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he mutters. “You’re all I think about.”

When I reach between us to grip him, heat flares in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it, too,” I admit.

I guide him inside me, and we both curse when he drives his hips forward. My legs wrap around him, deepening the contact.

I mumble a happy sound. “About this exact feeling.”

He withdraws in a slow, tormenting glide, then pushes back in. “This feeling?”

“Yes.”

I close my eyes, submitting to the sensation of him filling me, teasing me. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me. I don’t like it. It’s too much. It’s just too much. So I tangle my fingers in his hair and kiss him again, our tongues desperate, greedy.

The bed shakes as he fucks me. The pleasure gathers again, twisting into a tight knot. I love the heaviness of him, his weight on top of me, his ass beneath my heels as I dig them in, trying to get him as deep as possible.

He pushes forward again. He’s determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from me. His lips find mine, and he’s kissing me when another climax rushes through my body. I gasp through it, and he moves faster, his thrusts becoming erratic until finally he plunges deep, his face buried in my neck, groaning in release.

We lie there for a minute. When he rolls over and pulls me on top of him, I let him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I should ask him to leave. I shouldn’t be setting a precedent for holding each other after sex.

But I’m too winded to move. Too blissed out. And I like the feel of his palm stroking my back. The scrape of calluses against my shoulder blade. It’s a little too addictive.

There are so many things I want to ask, but I can’t let myself get to know him, so I stick to business.

“You let Anson into Elite. You realize he’s a soulless psycho, right?”

Cross chuckles. “Well aware. But he moves like a shadow and kills with no remorse.”

“Is that what you want him to do, kill for you without remorse?”

“Among other things. Everyone was chosen for their own strengths. What I think they’ll bring to the unit.”

I figured Elite was responsible for assassinations, but his confirmation makes me uneasy. I wonder how many people Cross has ordered to be killed. How many times he followed orders to do the General’s bidding.

The reminder is all it takes for me to sit up and hop off the bed. As I scavenge the floor for my discarded clothing, I feel his eyes raking over my naked body.

“Are you going to tell me you got me out of your system again?” he asks, sounding amused.

“No.” There’s no point in lying. The attraction between us only grows stronger. “I’m going to want to see you naked again.”

“That’s progress.”

“It’s as far as it will go,” I warn.

“You trust me with your body but nothing else.”

“Correct.”

He props up on one elbow and runs his hand through his hair. “It should go without saying, but…” His expression turns serious. “This stays between us, Darlington. I’m your CO. Nobody can know that I’m—”

“Servicing your subordinate?”

He snorts.

“Don’t worry, Captain. Your secret is safe with me. Now…” I give him an expectant look.

That gets me another snort. “Got it. My services are no longer needed.”

“Also correct.”

Laughing, he gets to his feet and searches for his pants. I try not to notice the way his muscles ripple as he moves. So graceful. Like the sleek cats in the Blacklands. A brave one made it into the clearing once, and I remember shivering as I watched him move. Muscles undulating beneath sleek fur. Almost rhythmic. That cat was so beautiful and so deadly. Just like Cross.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he says.

I’m almost disappointed, but as much as I’d like to stay in bed with him all night, I need to set boundaries, manage his expectations. I’m using him. He needs to know it.

I walk him to the door, where he suddenly grabs me and pushes me up against it. One hand grips my ass, bringing me tight to his body. The other cups my cheek as he kisses me. I’m gasping for air by the time he pulls his mouth away.

“I’m doing it your way for now, Dove. But only until I no longer feel like it.”

He smiles as he releases me. Hands shaking, I open the door to let him out.

Cross steps into the hall just as Ivy walks up.

We all freeze. His expression shutters, shoulders straightening. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he nods at Ivy and strides off.

She stares at me, then scans her thumb on the keypad at the door across from mine.

I had no idea her quarters were right there.

Shit.

Face devoid of emotion, she walks through the door and shuts it with a firm click.