In the living room the whole team was gathered and wore expressions of concern. Or rather, Caleb, Cole, and Wesley look concerned, and Austin just appeared... irritated? Maybe? His expressions were becoming harder to read by the day.

“If you’re done having a cry, Christina, the boys would like you to go get checked out so the rest of us can get on with our day,” Austin drawled. I smothered a small grin. My flushed face must have looked like I had been crying. Silly boy, I’m not that weak.

I didn’t grace him with a response; instead, I went to the couch and made myself comfortable on the opposite end from Cole. Once seated, I unraveled the bandage on my wrist, despite the sharp protests first from Caleb then Cole. I hadn’t realized the scary guy had a soft side, but it made my mouth quirk in a little smile as I finished unwrapping the bandage. Once done, I held up my hand and flexed it a few times, showing them it was good as new again.

Stunned silence blanketed the room. I had their full attention.

“That’s not possible,” Wesley blurted out, the first to recover. “I examined it. That was a really bad break; you should have needed surgery!”

“Or maybe she was just being a drama queen and you need new glasses,” Austin contributed helpfully.

Wesley glared at him and defensively pushed his glasses up his nose.

“No, Wesley’s right,” I defended him. “It was a pretty bad break, and not just my wrist but a few bones in my fingers too.” Four baffled expressions turned in my direction, all except River’s. He’d been there as it healed.

“So I guess I should explain a few things about myself...”

“You think?” Austin snorted, and Caleb hurled a cushion at his head then indicated for me to go on.

“I have a couple of unique abilities I’ve been keeping quiet about that contribute to why I’ve been able to accomplish such seamless thefts.” Wesley’s eyes lit up with interest; it had been bugging him that he couldn’t work out some of my access points. I considered just how much I should share, but then decided to rip off the Band-Aid. “I have a somewhat exaggerated strength and speed, and as you can see, I can heal myself.”

Cole grunted thoughtfully. “You seemed pretty strong for your size.”

I coughed out a laugh. “Actually, that’s nothing. I’ve been deliberately holding back to a more normal level. Same with my speed.”

“Can you explain how the healing works?” Wesley prompted, curiosity burning in his face. The academic in him had to be just dying to pick me apart.

“Well, obviously I’ve never volunteered myself for testing or anything, but as near as I can tell, it just requires a trigger, much like an adrenaline surge, so for lack of a better scientific description, that’s what I think of it as. When I’m feeling scared or in danger or really excited, I get this, sort of, rush of adrenaline through my body that heals up any injuries I have at the time. It needs to be a really strong feeling to trigger it though, which is why I didn’t immediately heal my wrist. I was predominantly pissed off, and that emotion doesn’t seem to cut it for the whole healing thing to work.”

They were quiet for a moment, probably turning the idea over, and one by one, it was like awareness rippled over them as they put two and two together to work out what River and I had just been doing to have healed my wrist. His face was like granite, giving nothing away, but I know my lips were still swollen and my face was hot.

I cleared my throat in the awkwardness that followed, then continued, “Anyway, the information I found on my last job did point to illegal human experiments, but what I didn’t mention is that the results they’re trying to replicate sound suspiciously similar to my own skills. I thought that if I could gather more info, then maybe I can learn more about who, or what, I am or maybe even who my birth parents are.”

While I’d been speaking, I’d pulled my legs up on the couch and hugged my knees. Needing to make a conscious effort to look less pathetic, I relaxed my hold and simply tucked my legs to the side, but my hands were trembling, so I clasped them under my knees.

“How did you work out that you had these abilities?” Caleb asked gently. No way I could get away without telling the whole dreadful story.

I closed my eyes for a second and slowed my breathing. I needed to tell them this. “As you know, Lucy and I lived in a foster home until we were thirteen.” I opened my eyes, avoiding eye contact, but I caught Caleb’s nod from the corner of my eyes. “Mother Suzette’s, she liked to call it. Sounds lovely huh? Well, not so much. Mother Suzette was a cruel, greedy woman who saw the children under her care as an easy payday. She had a circle of ‘patrons’ whom she had met through some charity fundraiser. They provided her with substantial donations in exchange for time alone with the kids. She made it a point to take on children who already had a history of abuse before entering the system.”

Someone sucked in a horrified breath, but I had barely even begun. Cole gently lifted my feet onto his lap and wrapped his massive paws around them in a rare display of affection and comfort. Having his physical manifestation of support while I recounted this story aloud for the first time since it had happened was oddly cathartic, and I gave him a grateful smile.

“Not that I had been, as far as I know. I actually have no memories before I was found on the streets when I was five. Just my name and age. Anyway, Suzette’s patrons all had their favorites among the kids, and the rules were that they were each only allowed one hour per week, so they were careful to choose wisely. They would then be taken to a room with no windows and locked inside for one hour. During that hour, they could do whatever they liked, no questions asked so long as there was no damage that couldn’t be covered by clothing. Once the hour was up, the door would be unlocked and they were expected to leave immediately.”

The memory of that horror-filled room already threatened to suffocate me. My palms began to sweat and my breathing spiked, so I slammed a steel door on my emotions and disconnected from the words. It was the only way I was going to get through the next part.

“When I was eleven, one of the newer patrons chose me. He was attracted by my red hair and started calling me Foxy because names would have been too personal for child abusers. I was taken down to the little room with him and locked inside. They didn’t need to use force to get us in there, we truly believed we had no other choices, that bad things happened to kids who fought back. He was a huge man but not all fat, and I was a tiny, malnourished stick of a thing. Once I heard the lock turn it was like something snapped inside me and I was no longer the docile little girl I had been raised to be. I lashed out at him, fighting like my life depended on it. He laughed at me and tried to bribe me. He offered me all sorts of things that he thought a kid would want, but I was too far gone to play along like was expected. I swung a punch at his face and it broke his nose, knocking him unconscious.”

A mutter intruded, but I didn’t focus on whoever spoke. In my mind all I could see was the Patron’s irate, sweaty face.

“Of course, the door was still locked and there was no other way out of the room, so I sat there, curled up on the corner of the bed, crying hysterically and hoping the man wasn’t dead. I knew Suzette was going to punish me. Kids didn’t fight back against patrons, it just wasn’t done. Not if you valued your life. He eventually woke up and he was furious. I was still curled up and crying so I didn’t see him get up until his hands were around my throat. He kept choking me until I passed out, then when I woke again my hands were bound with his thick leather belt. I started screaming but that made him laugh and he began hitting me. Over and over, pounding blows down on me. Luckily, Mother Suzette kept guards around, under the pretense of ‘family’ and they busted in, dragging him off me before I was killed. The last thing she needed was to be investigated by social services for a dead foster kid.”

I paused for a breath, and the sensation of Cole rubbing calming circles on the balls of my feet invaded my awareness. His face was downturned, so I couldn’t see his reaction.

“So that’s how you discovered your strength?” Caleb prompted, hurt in his eyes for the little girl I was.

I nodded. I didn’t want their pity. “It’s grown since then, but that was the first hint I had of it. No underweight eleven-year-old girl should have been able to knock out a man of that size with one hit. When they dragged me out of that room, I was broken in more places than I could count, my face a bloodied mess, and I was barely breathing thanks to a broken rib piercing my lung. Mother Suzette tossed me back in our bunkroom and left Simon and Lucy to care for me. I knew it was a punishment for what I had done, but also she would have needed to come up with a plausible explanation for the emergency room when they inevitably asked questions.”

Another breath, each one cost me, but they also kept me in control as I continued, “I was terrified, thinking I was dying, but my body slowly healed. The bones clicked back into place and knitted together, and my cuts all sealed up. By morning, you couldn’t tell anything had ever happened, except for the blood stained sheets of my bunk. It was impossible to hide, and Mother Suzette saw an opportunity. She contacted the same patron, who we called Mr. Gray. All the patrons had color names as they never gave us their real ones. He came back the next week, paying that bitch twice the normal rate; Lucy had overheard them discussing it in the hall. The guards came for me this time, and I stood no chance against three of them as small as I was. They took me back to the room and used handcuffs on my wrists and ankles, locking me to the metal frame bed. I was panicking and screaming at them to help me, but it was like pleading with a brick wall. Then Mr. Gray came in. He saw my perfectly unblemished skin and got this... sick, twisted smile on his face. That was one of the longest hours of my life, and by the end of it, I was begging for death. But of course my traitor body healed itself once more overnight and by morning, I was good as new. It was beyond fucking terrifying. He had always made such a show about being kind, making the kids like him so they wouldn’t understand how depraved he really was. But there was no more need to pretend with me and I saw him for the monster he truly was.”

While I had been speaking, someone had pressed a cup of coffee into my hand, and I gratefully took a long sip.

“Something tells me it doesn’t end there.” Caleb said, his voice dark and queasy.

A bitter smile stretched my lips. “It doesn’t. His visits became a regular occurrence. Each time he pushed the limits further to see how much I could take, but everything healed eventually. Sometimes it took days, but sure enough, by the time his next visit rolled around I was back to normal, perfect and unblemished. In the beginning I fought back, hard, but Mother Suzette knew how to keep me in line. She promised me that if I went willingly, let them shackle me and play out their perverted desires, then Lucy would be safe.”

Protecting my best friend when I couldn’t protect myself? It was a deal I could accept. “She would never be chosen and never have to suffer the same treatment as I did. After months of this, he couldn’t keep his secret any longer and told one of the other patrons. He too began visiting me, and I only had half the time to heal before the next session. Every now and then they would get bored and try something new. Nothing was off limits.” I shuddered, the emotions seeping through the steel door I had slammed them behind, and a slow tear rolled down my cheek. No one spoke for a while, and the tension lay thick in the air. Cole continued rubbing my feet, but his hands shook and energy seemed to coil around him as though he would rather have them wrapped around someone’s throat.

“How did it end?” Wesley asked, a sick look on his face.

I smiled, for real this time. That day had been the best one of my life. Hands down.

“Someone must have reported something to the right people, and a private detective agency began investigating. It took them a while to gather the evidence they needed, but eventually they acted. It was late at night and there was a huge storm outside—I remember because the cracks of thunder and the sound of the whip Mr. Gray was using on me seemed to just melt together. The agents swept through the building silently, all dressed head to toe in black and heavily armed, taking out Mother Suzette’s guards and arresting anyone there that wasn’t a kid, then keeping the kids detained until Child Protective Services could arrive. After that, all of us kids were split up, mostly into other foster homes, or the lucky ones like Lucy and I were adopted out. I was thirteen; that’s how I ended up with Jonathan.”

“Thirteen?” Wesley squeaked. “For two years...? What happened to these ‘patrons’?”

“They all walked free,” River answered for me. “They were some very influential and wealthy men, and they paid off the right corrupt people in order to get off entirely scot-free.”

I raised my brows at him. How did he know?

River looked back at me with pain in his eyes. “Cole and I were in training with Omega Group at the time and heard about it from some of the senior agents. I remember looking it up later and the details haunted me for weeks.”

Cole’s hands tightened on my feet, but he didn’t look up. Now wasn’t the time to push him, so I hurried on with my story.

“That’s right. Someone tipped Mr. Gray off with just enough time to wash the scene of any material evidence, literally, so the case against him was an easy one to pay his way out of. Anyway, after Lucy and I were reunited at CFA, we created ‘The Fox’. It started out pretty small scale, minor break-ins and such, mostly just causing an annoyance, but as we got better, we started getting contacted to steal for other people. We ignored most of them, but then one caught our attention and we saw an opportunity. It was for a painting, a Monet, utterly priceless and guaranteed to hurt the owner if it were taken.”

Caleb grunted in surprise, “I remember hearing about that one. Some filthy rich businessman in Toronto right?”

I grinned at the memory. “It sure was. We only steal from a select list of targets, and I leave the foxes behind so they all know it was me. The Monet belonged to Mr. Gray, and since then we have expanded to all of the former ‘patrons’. It’s not much, but I know it infuriates them, and until I can think of a way to get real revenge, this keeps me satisfied.”

“How do you know they understand the message behind those little foxes?” Wesley queried, still a bit pale behind his glasses.

“Lucy taps their communication for a few days after each theft. After the Monet, they knew it was me. Mr. Gray was the one who named me Foxy after all. It’s a warning to them that I’m still out here and haven’t forgotten, and it keeps them on their toes. Every now and then, I’ll break into one of their homes and leave a fox, just to show that I can get to them anywhere and at any time.”

“Fuck,” Wesley groaned. “That fight with Lucy... and I said you were stealing from innocent people... I need to call and apologize. Are you...?” He hesitated, as if unsure of the social etiquette in this situation, so I waved a hand to tell him to go.

Caleb scooped me up from where I was sitting then took my seat, settling me back into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me in a tight embrace. Cole claimed my feet once more, and I didn’t spill my coffee. Win-win, I supposed.

River stood. “I have errands to run. You’re safe here.” Then he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek. “Take it easy this afternoon. Watch a movie with these two idiots, and make sure they feed you.” He cupped my face in his palm as he straightened, giving me a stern look.

The contact restored my battered spirit. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll see you later tonight, Kitten.” His face remained stern, but his eyes softened at our private joke. As he left the room, Austin rose abruptly and stalked out after him without a word.

For the rest of the evening, the three of us watched movies while curled up in a pile on the couch. Caleb made popcorn and ordered pizzas while Cole demonstrated a caring, sensitive side that I hadn’t known he possessed—attentively making sure I was comfortable and warm and using his magic hands to rub the tension out of my muscles while we enjoyed the light hearted comedies that Caleb had chosen. Somewhere around three movies in, I fell asleep cuddled between these two solid men who had been pampering me all night.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep when strong arms lifted me and carried me into a bed smelling of pine trees. I mumbled incoherently into the hard chest, wrapping my arms around his waist to cuddle closer.

“I’m so sorry, Kitten,” River whispered in my ear.

I rubbed my cheek against his naked skin and found a comfortable spot to rest it. “What for?” Too sleepy for a deep conversation, I hoped it was something simple.

“Earlier...” The tension in his body coiled around me, and a note of uncertainty in his voice tickled at my senses. I’d never heard the dominating team leader sound unsure.

“Earlier, when I mentioned tying you down... I didn’t mean... I don’t want you to think...” He trailed off, and I forced wakefulness to lift my head and look at him.

“I know what you meant.” I smiled. “You don’t need to apologize. I thought I would have been horrified, but I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t?” Disbelief underscored his words.

I shook my head. “I trust you, River. I wasn’t horrified, I was intrigued...” I wasn’t sure whether it was my answer or the naughty whisper, but he looked stunned for a second before his lips curled into a naughty smile.

He gripped my hair, then pulled my head back for a hard, desperate kiss that left us both panting. Before it could go any further though, he rolled me over and cuddled me from behind.

“Sleep, Kitten,” he commanded.

“Yes, sir.” I yawned, already halfway back to sleep.