Page 26 of V-Day
Cristián.
She had stared at the simple email, her heart pounding, knowing something had shifted. Changed.
Chloe spent the next twelve hours in front of her laptop, drinking energy drinks, ordering takeout, like the nerdiest game-playing teenager in the world, unable to break away from the intense tsunami of emails churning between them.
They spoke of everything and anything. Details they had never shared before now held a significance which overwhelmed them. Duardo’s death. Their mother’s mourning. Cristián running the family, trying to stop the triplets, Téra, Pia and Trini, from tearing each other to pieces as they ventedtheirgrief. The war. The threat of the Insurrectos taking over his town.
Chloe shared her life, too. All of it. The warts, the scars and the shameful secrets she had told no one else.
Their conversation was never again as intense as those first twelve hours. Instead, talking to Cristián became a part of her day, weaving through the fabric of it. Cristián was in her life more thoroughly than a live-in lover would have been.
Neither of them would risk anything more than the text-based emails, though. Images, conversations, live chats would all use third-party channels she couldn’t control and leave even bigger electronic footprints. She was working on developing her app so the masking was complete and impenetrable. For now, though, they dared use nothing but email.
For now, it was enough.
She whispered good night to him as she rolled over to sleep, tapping out the message with her finger, before tucking the phone beneath her pillow. His email asking about her night waited for her in the morning.
And always, they checked in at eight p.m., when she could relax for a day longer because Cristián was safe.
For now.
The sum total of what she knew about the man who she had first known as Shadow and now knew as Cristián passed through her mind as she kissed him. He feltright. He matched the strong persona who had dominated the Group for years, the man who had saved her life in more than just one way.
She had never doubted she would do this, sooner or later. She just couldn’t wait any longer. Shehadto touch him or go mad.
After weeks of imagining what it might feel like to press her lips to his, Chloe had reached the moment and it wasgood. Cristián’s hands settled on her shoulders, holding her steady. That made it even better.
It was as if she had kissed him a thousand times before, yet it had the same, breathless and terrifying delight of any first kiss, too.
Chloe moaned against his lips.
Cristián almost shoved her from him. He held his grip on her shoulder, though, or she would have tripped and fallen backward onto the open campfire behind her. He kept her on her feet, his chest rising and falling fast.
Chloe reached for him again, unwilling to let go of such pleasure. He shook his head, his dark gray eyes steady upon her face.
Chloe studied him, trying to understand. She rested her hand on his chest, feeling heat and the shift of muscles beneath the tee shirt. “What isstoppingyou?” she breathed.
“This, for a start,” he replied, his voice low and harsh with control. He turned his head, to take in the camp.
“Liar,” she whispered.
“She’s coming back,” Christian warned her, his gaze moving over her shoulder, to something behind her.
Chloe dropped her hand from his chest.
He let her go.
“You always shred anyone else for retreating behind prevarications,” Chloe said. “I didn’t think you, of any of us, would deny the truth.”
His eyes widened in surprised.
“Iknowyou,” Chloe reminded him.
Parris Graves stepped up beside them. “Thatmade them pause,” she said, speaking to Cristián. She glanced around once more, to assess anyone within hearing distance. No one was nearby. Most of the camp was concentrated around the two big cooking pots where breakfast was being ladled into bowls.
“Military intelligence has been providing them with updates about Vistaria for weeks,” Parris said, dropping her voice. “They understand as well as you the Palace is an administrative center, only…” She grimaced. “It’s a political thing.”
“They need a symbolic victory. A gesture,” Cristián said. “For the hospital.”
Parris smiled. “Yes, exactly. I talked them out of it. I may have mentioned the former President’s wife was in the building and it wouldn’t look good if they took her out.” Her smile was impish. “They decided the military base would look just as good wreathed in flames as the Palace.”
Cristián shook his head. “That won’t work, either.”
