Chapter Fifteen

Jack stretched as sunlight pushed its way in through the dirty windows. He dragged himself from the bed and pulled on sweat pants before limping over to his exercise equipment.

He eased himself down onto the hard, leather seat and grabbed the hand grips. “This is the first time I’ve ever used this thing to get in shape.”

After thirty minutes, his muscles trembled, and he dropped the weights, flinching at the loud clang when they hit the floor. “Feels like a bloody bus hit me,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and heading toward the bathroom.

He sighed as the hot water worked wonders. He rolled his shoulders, not feeling as stiff as the day before. His stomach rumbled, and he snapped off the water. After toweling off, he threw his towel on the floor and pulled his sweat pants back on before heading to the kitchen. He slowed when he neared the phone and stopped. His hand hovered over it before he finally snatched it up and dialed. He wanted to call Misty, whether his instincts wanted him to or not.

“Hell,” he swore quietly, almost hanging up as her line started ringing. He should just let matters lie, and let her think he ran out on her.

“Hello?” Misty said. “Hello?”

Finding his voice, he said, “Hey, beautiful, remember me?”

“Taylor?” He could hear her surprise. “Where have you been? Are you all right?”

“I’ve been getting over a bad case of flu.” He cringed as yet another lie came easily to him. “Did you miss me?”

“Terribly.”

The warmth in her voice flowed through the phone line and into him. A tiny part of him leapt with joy because she missed him, and the rest of him howled in protest, wishing she’d hung up on him. He cleared his throat. “I’m still not one hundred percent, but I’d like to meet you for lunch.”

“Sounds great.”

Jack allowed himself a small smile. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Hanging up the phone, he walked to his desk and picked up the new computer disc laying on top of the pile of papers. Frank had said the information on it needed to be viewed as soon as possible. “You’re trying to tell me it’s bad news, right?” he murmured.

He flipped it onto the desk. There was always bad news, which meant it could wait. After what he’d just been through, what could be worse?

****

They sat in a rear booth of the dimly lit restaurant, and Taylor just gazed at her.

“You’re not eating,” Misty said, gesturing at his untouched plate.

His gaze never left her face. “And you’ve grown prettier since I last saw you.”

Misty blushed as he held her hand. “Thanks.” She looked up at him. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me again. You left so abruptly, and then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you that way. I was trying to spare us both some pain, but I can’t do it.” He leaned across the table, kissing her lightly. “Care to tell me what you’ve done to me?”

She laid her hand on his cheek. “Probably the same thing you’ve done to me.”

He stood, pulling her from her chair. “We’d better leave before we make a scene.”

She nodded and they headed for the door, Taylor dropping a wad of bills on the table. He glanced at her. She was becoming important to him, scaring him more than he wanted to admit.

****

Taylor pushed her apartment door shut, sweeping her into his arms, kissing her long and hard. “Has it really been two short weeks since I last saw you?”

“It seems like so much longer,” she replied.

He held her close, gently running his hands over her back. He lost himself in the scent that was only her. Everything was just as he remembered; the light, teasing perfume, the fruity scent in her hair, and now the musky aroma of arousal.

His nightmare slammed its way to the front of his mind, reminding him not everything was as simple as it seemed. He tried to force it back, but it hovered there, taunting him.

He ran his fingers down her arms. “I’d give anything to stay here with you,” he murmured. No happy endings. Not for me.

She watched his face. “I don’t understand.”

He pulled her to him and held her tightly. “One day, you will.”

He carried her down the hallway and kicked the bedroom door shut.

****

The late afternoon sun shone in through the window as Taylor cradled Misty in his arms. She draped a leg over his, sighing as she moved closer.

“I could stay like this forever,” she murmured, holding him.

He closed his eyes. “Good things never last.”

Misty sat up and frowned. “What do you mean? You’re always saying things like that and never explain why.” She laid her hand on his chest. “Tell me what’s going on. Trust me.”

He pulled her back down and held her close. “I can’t.”

She lay there quietly, remembering her conversation with Amy. “Tell me about your wife.”

He said nothing for a moment. “Why?”

“I just feel that most of your pain goes back to her death.” She stroked his chest. “You must’ve loved her very much.”

“Yes, I did.” She heard the grief in his voice, making it tremble as he spoke and it echoed through his body, his muscles tensing. “A lot of our friends said we were obsessed with each other.” He gave a small laugh. “I guess we were.”

Misty silently noted his words were the same as Amy’s. Listening to him talk, she knew there was no way he could’ve murdered her in cold blood. There was too much pain in him, too much sadness.

“She must’ve been something,” she said softly.

He nodded. “She was. She could play the roughest sport and beat everyone. Then we’d go to her sister’s, and she’d care for the new baby. I thought she could do anything.”

Misty rested her hand on his hip. “Did you have any children?”

“No. We hadn’t been married very long, and we decided to wait. I wish, though...,” he faltered.

“That you had someone who was still part of her,” Misty said, finishing his unspoken phrase.

Misty had never seen so much misery in one person. When her parents were killed, it’d hurt more deeply than anything she’d ever been through. It didn’t even come fractionally close to what the man in her arms had suffered. She’d had her friends to help her through the long days, the lonely nights. He’d had no one to share his pain with, no one to help him.

“Look at me,” she said, turning his face to hers. “You’ve let the pain and grief build up for so long, it’s beginning to destroy you. Let it go. I learned that when my parents were killed. You’ve got to grieve to ease the pain of your loss.”

“I asked the so-called heroes for their help, and they turned their backs on me.” Misty cringed as his voice turned hard and cold. “I guess I wasn’t good enough for their time.”

She shook her head. As an accused traitor and murderer, the paranormal teams would’ve done little. He must’ve seen that as the ultimate betrayal. She decided to tell him what she knew and to let him know about Captain Starblast’s continuing investigation. Her own powers and hero status she’d keep to herself for now.

She closed her eyes, praying she was making the right choice. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” he asked, his finger stroking her cheek.

“There are things, important things, I need to tell you. Things I think you should know.” She threw back the covers and reached for her clothes.

He stayed where he was, watching her. “You’re so beautiful, Misty.”

She smiled and continued getting dressed. She brushed her hair back, catching it up in a ponytail as she watched him pull on his jeans, tucking the now familiar gun into the waistband. He crossed the room and stood in front of her.

She gazed at his face, wanting to see him as he was before bitterness and grief etched themselves into the lines around his eyes. She tried to see him as Amy described him, but decided that incarnation belonged to another place, another time. She wanted him the way he was; a man of no peace, no money, running from agents of ULTRA.

His right eye was so blue and clear, reflecting the inner turbulence of emotions roiling through him. The left, just the opposite, solid white, completely emotionless, the scar passing through it faded with time.

Dropping her gaze to his chest, she traced the scar there. He trembled slightly under her fingers, but remained silent and unmoving. She ran her hands through his hair, the softness of it in complete contrast to the hardness of his body and spirit.

“Are you finished?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“I don’t want to lose you. Please, believe me...” She stopped, wanting to say more, but not knowing how.

He put his arm around her shoulders, leading her to the living room. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ll talk.”

They sat on the couch, and Misty drew her legs up, trying to decide where to begin. These next few moments were crucial and saying the wrong thing would bring his guard up.

Taylor waited a few moments in the awkward silence, then said, “Where do we start?”

Gathering her courage, Misty said, “Tell me why ULTRA’s after you.”

He looked away. “I can’t,” he mumbled.

She laid her hand on his arm. “Would it make it easier if I told you I can help?”

“How?” he demanded. “You don’t know the resources these people have, the amount of firepower they can get their hands on.” His voice rose on every word. “They wouldn’t think twice about killing you if it could help them get their hands on me.”

She knelt in front of him, laying her hands on his knees. “I’ve found some things out, and I think, after hearing what I’ve got to say, you’ll be able to tell me.”

He leaned forward, folding his hands and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Go on.”

“I met with...”

A knock on the door interrupted her. In the few seconds it took to get to her feet, the knocking had become an insistent pounding. “All right,” she shouted, reaching for the knob.

The door crashed open, banging against the wall as it passed through her hand as she instinctively became intangible. She shot a glance at Taylor, but he wasn’t looking at her. He’d dropped to one knee, his gun leveled at the door.

Cyber-X filled the doorway, his rifle held tightly as he stared at Taylor. “ULTRA’s coming,” was all he said and her blood ran cold.

Taylor stood, tucking his gun in the back of his jeans. “How soon?”

“Right now. You’ll have to go out another way.” He jerked his head toward the front door. “All the downstairs exits are covered.”

Taylor strode back to the bedroom. “The tracker.” He shook his head. “I’m getting too bloody careless,” he muttered.

Misty trotted in behind, ignoring Cyber-X’s heavy thumps bringing up the rear. She sat next to him as he pulled on his shirt and boots, laying her hand on his arm. “What are you going to do?” Her eyes widened in horror as he gestured at the window. “That’s crazy! You’re at least forty feet from the top of the building and a hell of a lot more than that from the ground. There’s nothing out there!”

He grinned, winking at her. “Then I’m crazy.”

Misty tightened her grip, trying to keep him from actually going out the window. “Don’t do this,” she begged. “I lo...”

He put a finger on her lips, stopping her words. “Don’t say it. Save it for someone who truly deserves it and you.” He dropped his hand and walked to the window. “This is twice I’ve put you in a confrontation with ULTRA. They’re bound to get suspicious if you keep turning up where they track me.” He kissed her lightly. “Goodbye, Misty. I don’t think you’ll be seeing me again.”

Misty watched him push the window open and stick his head out.

Cyber-X came up behind him. “What’s it look like?”

Taylor glanced over his shoulder at the mercenary. “It’ll be a rough climb, but not impossible.”

“Get going. I’ll be right behind you.”

Taylor grinned. “Hoping I’ll reimburse your contract money?”

“Something like that.” Cyber-X gave him a small push. “Now, move.”

He pulled himself out the window, willing his body to blend with the building. Being seen would be messy. Falling would be worse. Scrabbling sounded behind him, the tell-tale sign of Cyber-X following.