The Operator Page 94

“No, but it’s the first time you remember it.”

She sighed as he lifted from her, exhaling in happiness as he fell to the bed beside her. It had been fast, almost too fast, but only because it was comfortable with the patterns of familiarity. There would be time for lingering and exploration later.

Rolling, she snuggled in beside him. First time she remembered? Yes. Hopefully not the last. Damn, how could I just willingly forget this? Stretching, she nibbled on his earlobe, tasting its texture between her teeth and letting go when he grunted and rolled off the bed.

“You want a washcloth or the shower?”

She stared at the ceiling, feeling good for the first time since who knew when. Why had she waited so long? “Shower,” she said as she sat up. “Mind if I go first? I honestly don’t think it will hold both of us.”

“Not at all.” With a happy sigh, he collapsed among the pillows.

Her knee, forgotten until now, slowed her shuffle to the bathroom. The water was hot almost immediately, and feeling like a different person, she got in. Water cascaded where his fingertips had traced, and she looked down at herself, smiling at the thought of having him with her always as she reached for the soap.

“We can have a year’s supply of substitute Evocane in a few days,” Silas called out.

“A few days?” she shouted back, not believing it.

“You haven’t seen his labs,” Silas answered. “By then, things will have cooled off to move safely. I was serious about Arizona. My uncle works at one of the parks out there, and they’re always open to selling property off. Nice and quiet.”

The ardor sluiced from her as if stripped by the water, and she looked over the shampoo selection, wondering whether she should have worn flip-flops. Nice and quiet sounded perfect. The wide Arizona horizons even better; and the aches drained away with the bubbles. Water dripping, she leaned to check out her knee. It was healing cleanly, but she grimaced at the coming scar. Like I don’t already have enough, she thought, running a hand down first one, then the other arm, cataloging the soft marks.

“Don’t remember this one,” she whispered upon finding a ragged mark on her thigh, not recalling where she got it but that Jack had been with her. He’d held the bowling towel they’d found in the trunk against her the entire ride back to Opti. She didn’t remember what they did with the dead man who had cut her, though.

Solemn, she turned off the shower, motions slow as she reached for a towel, counting the scars as she dried herself. Most had a reason she could point to, but there were enough that didn’t to cause her worry. “What am I doing?” she whispered, suddenly seeing beyond her dream that she could just walk away from who she had been. Her head started to hurt, but she refused to give up. She wanted what Silas offered, wanted it with everything in her soul. But like her scars, Bill would always be there. The only way to get what she wanted would be to face Bill and end it. Running away would only make him chase her harder.

The worst part? She would survive. It would be Silas who would suffer.

Towel wrapped around her, she padded into the bedroom. “Silas?”

She stopped, seeing him asleep, vulnerable with the blanket half over him. His hair was mussed, making her want to arrange it. The half-light was beautiful on him, the shadows and glints inviting her to trace her fingers. He hadn’t slept at all since they’d joined LB, watching over her and making sure she was okay. He loved her—and it was going to get him killed.

“I can’t do this yet,” she whispered. He wouldn’t let her walk out of here alone, and she couldn’t wait two days for the Evocane substitute, but she didn’t need to.

The towel fell about her ankles, and she got dressed with a frugal quickness of motion. Hesitating instead of kissing him good-bye, she dropped the vial of Evocane into her short-job bag on top of her unworn clothes, then the syringe of accelerator he had hidden in his coat. Her diary was out of reach under the pillow, and she reluctantly left it.

Grabbing her boots, she slipped out, easing the door shut behind her. The main room was quiet, and she leaned her forehead against the door, hoping he’d understand when he woke and found her gone. “I’m sorry, Silas. I’ll be back,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a one-night stand,” LB said, and she spun, finding him sitting alone at a table.

He lifted a beer in salute and, flustered, she leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her to hold her bag to her middle. The large room was empty but for him, the movie about the kick-butt princess playing to an absent audience. “I need some clean syringes,” she said, the drips from her hair trailing down her back to make her shiver.

Silent, he looked at the ceiling as he took a handful from a nearby plastic bag and pushed them across the table. “You’ve only got five days of fix. What are you going to do?”

One day out, one day back, two to get things done, and a spare in case something goes wrong. “I’m going to the East Coast to kill Bill,” she said.

He nodded, not passing judgment. “Don’t forget your katana,” he joked, then his expression grew serious. “I can’t help but think this is a mistake. That is some dragon-shit stuff.”

You scared a drug lord, Peri, resounded through her, and she pushed the fear down. She tucked syringes in her bag, and the cool glass of the vial as it brushed against her fingertips felt like the devil’s smile itself. Newport was twelve hours away. She could be there by dusk if she didn’t stop to sleep. Sleep . . .

“You’re not weak, Reed, for needing it.”

Her breath caught as the remembered ache filled her. “You’re right. And this is a mistake. Every time I take it, it makes it harder to quit, but it’s all I’ve got.” Angry, she sat down to put on her boots.

LB watched. “What do you want me to tell him?”

She looked at the door, then thunked her heel into her boot. Her knee gave a twinge, easily ignored. “Tell him I’ll be back.”

“Yeah. That’s what my dad said.”

Her head snapped up. “I’m. Not. Leaving. Him.”

LB raised a hand. “Swell. You’re going to come back.”

Her face was warm, and she hated that it made her look as if she was lying. “If Silas is with me, Bill will use it against me. I can’t . . .” Her breath caught. “I’ll give Bill anything he wants if he threatens Silas. Keep him here, okay? Tell him you need his help with the Evocane substitute or something.”

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