Page 95 of West Bound
“This is the hallway to the bedrooms. That door on the left was the master, and the ones on the right were my brothers’.” She points them out on the screens, tapping the stylus on the map in front of her.
“Which one was yours?” I ask. We don’t need it for operational security. I doubt there’s anything useful left in there now, but I like the opportunity to see a window into her past.
“Um.” She hums under her breath and scans the screens again. “If you turn left when you get up these stairs, there’s a room on this side. I don’t see it anywhere on the screens. It’s a shorter hallway. Just a closet and a laundry room and then my room.”
“Any of those rooms with large windows we could breach or exit if needed?” Bishop pipes in.
“The laundry room’s window would be too small. My old room, yes, you could. But it’s high up. You could break an anklejumping from it.” The way she explains it, I can tell she thought about doing that very thing once or twice.
“Better a broken ankle than a bullet to the head.” Bishop’s scribbling away behind us.
She tilts her head back and forth as her lips press together, acknowledging the fairness of the statement.
“This is the hallway to the garage. I’m hoping they’ll let us pull in there with the truck. Then you'll have easier access to the house. You'll just have to get through this door.” Zephyrine taps the screen with her fingertip. “It should be easier than any of the others.”
I sit back in my chair as she continues, recommending the best path she can think of in her head as she closes her eyes and describes the surroundings we can’t see on the cameras. If I didn’t already have a massive fucking weak spot for this woman, I’d be developing a crush right now. For an apprenticing nun with no background in operations like this, she’s a natural. Asking thoughtful questions and answering Bishop’s like a pro. I’m just thankful as fuck she’s on my side because I think her father picked the wrong child to be the heir to his legacy. I’m fairly certain, given the right resources, she could have made an empire out of his tiny fiefdom.
FORTY
Zephyrine
“So,”I say softly as I crawl into bed next to him. His eyes are glued to the tablet he’s holding, his brow furrowed as he rapidly scans the screen. I see the reflection of vault schematics in his glasses. He’s been reviewing everything they’ve prepared for the tenth time today, even though I’m fairly certain he could recite the information backward in his sleep.
“Hmm.” He hums, his fingers running absently down my bare thigh as he continues reading. He doesn't even notice the fact that I’m naked except for a pair of panties.
“I think you should ravage your enemy’s daughter the night before you storm the castle for good luck,” I whisper before I kiss him just underneath his jaw, my hand wandering over his abs as I try to distract him from what he's reading.
“What?” he asks, clearly not listening as he digitally flips the page of the document.
“I said I think you should fuck your enemy’s daughter for good luck for tomorrow.” I’m blunter and louder this time. It gets his attention, his eyes lifting and going wide when he seesme—dropping the tablet in his lap and adjusting his glasses to get a better view.
“Christ. Have you been like that the whole time?” He sets the device on the nightstand, forgetting what he was doing, to wrap his hands around my waist and drag me into his lap.
“Yes. You’ve been too busy to notice.” I roll my lip in a mock pout, and he reaches up to kiss me.
“I’m sorry. I’m here now.” His eyes run down my neck and chest in appreciation, and he reaches out to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple as I spread my legs a little wider and settle over his lap. “What was that about my enemy’s daughter now?”
“You have her all to yourself, in your bed, nearly naked. You can do whatever you want with her,” I say softly, my fingertips exploring the peaks and valleys of his chest and stomach as we talk. I pause when I notice the bandage is off his burn, and it’s healing nicely.
“Does that mean my feisty little nun is gone?” He runs his palm up the center of my body, over my sternum, and takes the delicate gold cross on my necklace between his fingers. His eyes lift to study mine in expectation.
“No, but I thought you’d prefer the other tonight. Take out some of the anxiety and aggression while you wait.”
“Oh, hmm…” His brows knit together in contemplation of my offer.
“You don’t fantasize about that version?” I’m surprised.
“Oh, fuck yes, I do. But that’s not my favorite version.”
“What’s your favorite?” I ask, surprised. “The nun?”
“When you’re just you.” He lets the necklace go, and his hands ghost over my sides as he talks, studying every line and curve. “I fantasize about meeting you before you went to the convent. Before you got married. Before I became this fucked-up version I am now. Your ex and mine don’t exist in this versioneither. None of the baggage or the jaded pasts.” He sighs. “Just us. We meet somewhere randomly when we’re out, and I ask you out on a date. I take you somewhere you’d love. An old church. A museum. We walk around the city, just trying to make it last, and then we go to a café. We talk for hours before I walk you home. You ask me upstairs, and I’m nervous as fuck because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my fucking life…” He trails off, and I’ve gotten so engrossed in his story that I’m in the fantasy with him, waiting for the ending. He’s staring into the distance, lost in his thoughts.
“And then?” I prod him to continue. I need to know how it ends—how we end in this otherworldly version.
“I somehow manage not to fuck it up completely, and you take me up to your room. You kiss me and tell me you want me. So I ravage this perfect little body like my life depends on it. Because it does. I already know, even though we’ve just met. Every second I’m with you I know that it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. I just need it to last another hour, another day. So I take my time. All night until the sun comes up. I bring you coffee in bed and spend the morning with my tongue between your thighs. But you have to go to classes, so I walk you there too. I want you safe, so I plan to register at the same university you attend. I start visiting the same bakery where you get your breakfast. Haunting the café we visited. Following you home from work to make sure you make it okay.”
“You’re still a stalker in this version?” I’m amused at his consistency even in a fantasy world.
