“She’s coming out of her shell.”
“Give her a hug. Tell her I love her.”
“I’ll do that. Call me tomorrow, at a decent hour, if that’s at all possible.”
By then, his father would have the letters he’d left the last time he was at the Resistance drop house. “Will do. Go back to sleep.” Rock ended the call and glanced at the clock. Time to get the trainee up. He had a big day planned.
After a half hour of watching Laila drag ass, he sent her across the street to get dressed for their first day of real training. He waited impatiently for her to return, intermittently glancing out the window to see if she was on her way back. When he finally caught sight of Laila crossing the street, she was not the flowing skirt, sandaled, bohemian-looking woman he’d gotten glimpses of before their training started. She was decked out in the standard issue recovery team uniform—black, from the zippered cargo pants and military style boots to the black T-shirt and Kevlar body armor.
He met her at the door and chuckled. “You can ditch the body armor. You won’t need it today.” He pulled the tabs free and lifted the vest over her head.
“Good. That thing is hot.”
He led her to the kitchen, and placed a heaping plate of biscuits and gravy in front of her. “I recommend you eat it all. You’re going to need the energy.” He packed them a lunch then leaned against the counter, watching her.
She’d put a good dent in the pile then pushed the plate away.
“Ready?”
“I hope so.”
During the ride to OZ, she stared out the window. Her silhouette against the morning sun revealed the graceful slope of her neck and the red highlights in her long brown ponytail.
She hadn’t smiled once since she’d gotten out of bed that morning. His benefriend rejection might have hurt her feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was add to the strain she was under, but it looked as though he had anyway. He knew what she needed, and would give it to her. But his proclivity for extreme sex and compulsion for the enmeshed relationship he thrived on would only stress her more. By the end of the day, she’d have nothing left, and wouldn’t have the energy to worry about anything.
During National Guard shift change, like now, the small Emerald Zone looked like it was under military occupation, with hundreds of guardsmen clogging the roads and walkways. When the guardsmen dispersed, the streets would be empty. There were no pedestrians, like in Sapphire and Amber. The VIPs here drove, or were chauffeured. When they arrived at OZ, he proceeded through the checkpoint gates and parked.
“Why is there’s so much security at this compound?” Laila asked.
“There are weapons here. Lots of them.” OZ was a huge lot surrounded with chain-link fence topped with razor wire. A handful of one and two-story buildings contained the armory, training and meeting rooms, and the shooting range.
“Oh. Makes sense.” They got out, and she glanced at him across the truck bed as he pocketed the keys and motioned in the direction they were headed.
“We’re going to the motor pool.”
They turned a corner where a row of heavy-duty vehicles were lined up, except for theirs. The armored vehicle they’d be using for the mission was already pulled out of its spot and waiting for them.
“This is our truck.” He stopped next to it, helped her into the passenger seat of the armored monster and walked around the front. After climbing into the driver’s seat, he leaned toward her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her across the seat so she sat as close to him as possible, her thigh pressing against his.
“What are we doing?” She looked up at him. Still no smile.
“This is your first driving lesson.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“It’s a very good idea. I’m going to give you as many skills as I can between now and our go date. If the shit hits the fan, you’ll need to know how to drive so you can get yourself back to New Atlanta.” He took her chin between his finger and thumb. “Now, don’t question your training. I know what you need.”
She frowned. “Okay.”
They spent an hour sitting thigh to thigh in the hot cab of the armored truck. He taught her all the knobs and buttons, how to adjust her mirrors. Outside, he ran down the vehicle’s capabilities as well as simple maintenance like changing a tire and adding radiator fluid. Then he quizzed her until she was easily able to toss the information back at him. He smiled at her self-satisfied expression.
“Okay, good. Now I want you to remove a tire and put it back on.”
She stood next to the front passenger side tire, hands on her hips, while he sat on the passenger seat, legs hanging out the open door. She gaped at him, ready to protest, so he leveled a serious stare at her. “I’m waiting.”
Several beats passed before she finally rolled her eyes, dropped her hands from her hips and proceeded to crack and remove the lug nuts one by one. It took significant effort on Rock’s part not to help her as she wrestled the huge tire from its perch. She lost her grip and tumbled onto her ass then pointed at him and glared. “Don’t you dare!”
The effort to keep a straight face was no doubt worth it because she didn’t look daggers at him very long. She successfully removed the tire the second time around, brushed dirt off her hands and rear end then looked to him. “I’m going to need some help lifting the tire back on.”
“Yes. You are,” he said straight-faced, but stayed put.
She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Are you going to help me?”
He shook his head. “If you’re changing a tire by yourself, it’s a given I’m dead. You need to be able to figure out how to do it yourself.”
Her eyes bugged and jaw unhinged. The possibility he could die, leaving her out there to fend for herself, had never occurred to her.
“You also need to learn how to keep that expression in check. You wear all your feelings on your face. Shielding your thoughts and feelings from others is absolutely necessary, if you find yourself in trouble.”
“Okay.”
Laila looked around the fenced-in lot that held the recovery vehicles and found a cement block and a board behind one of the sheds.
She trudged toward him, dragging the board. Laughter fought to burst from his lips as she blew a stray curl of hair out of her face and glared a hole right through him. He was going to burst a blood vessel with the strain of holding it in.
She set her jaw and got to work, ignoring him. She was feisty and proud. Not the type of woman who’d quit until the job was complete.
By the time she’d maneuvered the tire back on the vehicle, Laila was sweaty and covered with the rust-colored dust that seemed to permeate everything because of the hot, dry summer. She was a sight to see, eyes alight, face red and splotchy. Standing there, with her hands on her hips, she was raging innocence clashing with pure stubbornness. Made him hard all over again.
“Nicely done,” he said, jumping down from his seat. He caught her by the wrist, pulled her to him and rewarded her with a smacking kiss on the lips, then set off toward his vehicle.
“What was that for?”
“You did well. You get a kiss.” She scrambled to catch up to him. “Let’s get some lunch. You’re going to need some fuel for this afternoon.”
“But—”
“Don’t question your training,” he said.
Her fists balled at her sides and her lush pink lips pressed tightly against one another.
He slapped her on the ass. “Good