TWENTY-SIX

 

 

Civilization.

For some reason that was the first word that went through her mind as she opened her eyes. Shea gasped and sat up, grasping her aching head and slumping back down before she could take another breath.

A car horn blared, and she winced toward it, but that just made the light from the veiled window hurt her eyes, so she turned her back to it.

Taking her first deep breath, she was offended by the smell of the bedsheets. It wasn’t a bad smell, they were clean, but the detergent was unfamiliar. When the hell had Raid decided to change… The car horn… the light…

Sitting upright, she grabbed the comforter beneath her legs and looked around.

“Civilization,” she breathed out the word and scrambled off the bed to run for the door.

Snatching it open, she lunged out and almost threw up when she saw the parking lot in front of her. There was a street. People. Cars. A diner…

With her heart thumping in her chest, she dashed back into the bedroom and slammed the door. “No,” she said. “No. No. No.”

Holding her hand over her heart, she almost didn’t notice the loop on her thumb. When she did, she looked down to see it was a car key. A car? She didn’t give a damn about a car. Throwing the key onto the dresser, she marched over to the suitcase that was at the bottom of her bed.

Hauling the luggage up onto the mattress, she unzipped it and started to pull out the contents. Clothes, shampoo, nothing, not a clue, not a… She recognized the feel of the fabric before she realized what was in her hand. It was Raid’s shirt. The one she’d been wearing when she stormed out of his place and through C-Hall before putting herself in solitary.

Holding it to her chest, she raised the cotton to her nose and breathed him in. He was a bastard. But, shit, the tears in her eyes didn’t know that. Twisting around, she sank to the floor and buried her face in the material as she sobbed.

Her heart ached for more than just the lover she’d lost. She missed the place that had become her home in such a short time. Taking on a cause that protected the masses hadn’t been one of her life goals, but she’d learned how rewarding it could be to be part of a larger machine.

She had to grieve not only the relationship and her comrades, but the cause and the compound. Crawling up onto the bed, Shea took Raid’s shirt with her and gave herself permission to wallow.

 

 

Wallowing lasted a day.

Shea was tired, probably because of the drugs or the journey, and had fallen asleep. Waking up hungry, she came to terms with the fact she’d have to wash the compound from her body and change her clothes.

It was when she was in the shower that it hit her. Just because she wasn’t on the compound didn’t mean she had to give up the cause. As soon as this occurred to her, her mind began to race at a thousand miles an hour.

Her mental plans distracted her so much that she barely noticed changing her clothes and packing her suitcase. Shea was out on the street with the car key in her hand in no time at all. Stretching her arm into the sky, she pressed a button and was surprised to see a sleek new Mercedes in the corner flash at her.

Shaking her head, while wearing a smile, she went to the vehicle, stowed her suitcase in it and climbed into the driver’s seat trying to remember how to do the driving thing.

“You’re a fool if you think I don’t know you’re tracking this,” she murmured and felt a surge of pride when she not only got the car started, but maneuvered it out of the parking lot without incident.

“Okay,” she said to herself, adjusting the mirror. “First thing I’m doing is selling this hunk of junk.”

It was a shining new car, so she supposed it wouldn’t be difficult to find a dealer who’d take it off her hands. She drove half a dozen blocks and then spotted a dealership on the corner. Squealing across the opposite lane, she bumped over the curb and up into the lot, drawing the attention of the half a dozen people there.

Ignoring the customers when she rose from her seat, she fixated on the man by the office who was talking to two people.

Holding up the keys, she smiled. “I want to trade-in this for ten thousand and…” Glancing around the lot, she spotted a Honda. “That.”

The startled man looked at the people he was talking to, offered them a few words, and then came toward her. “That car’s worth way more than ten grand, that’s the new model.”

“And if it hadn’t been bought by my ex-boyfriend, I might care,” she said and waved the keys. “Call it a revenge sale… You can say no, it’s a limited time offer. If you’re not interested, I’m sure one of your competitors around here will be”

He held up his hands. “Let me see what I can do.”

 

 

The dealer hadn’t taken long to make up his mind. Shea had a new car, one that definitely wasn’t being monitored by Raid or any of his cronies. It had the added bonus that it wouldn’t get her in trouble with the IRS. Though as she drove, she’d made the decision not to get in touch with her old contacts, not until she’d completed the mission she’d set for herself. Maybe never again.

Being at the compound had changed her outlook on life, had realigned her principles and priorities. After making the decision to stay true to her aim, it hadn’t taken her long to identify her first target: Zogden.

Locating him wasn’t difficult. When she got to his place, Shea learned fast just what Diego had meant by money and protection. The house was surrounded by a large wall covered by security cameras with guards doing regular patrols.

Shea didn’t let herself be daunted or deterred. Being patient, she watched the house for days, changing up her position and learning everything she could about routines and possible weaknesses.

There was no way she could storm the house alone. The point wasn’t to shoot Zogden in the head anyway. Though if she did, she’d follow him to hell shortly after because there would be no way his guards would miss their boss going down.

It was a surprise that Diego had been deterred. He liked a challenge and adrenaline, as did most of his men. This kind of incursion should be up his alley.

Not that it mattered, she couldn’t rely on him and never would again.

Following the sedan that drove from the grand gates, Shea’s interest was piqued when she spotted Zogden in the passenger seat. If this guy was as rich as the house and security suggested, why was he being driven around in a regular old car?

She got her answer about ten miles later when she witnessed the sedan pulling into the parking lot of a dive bar.

Parking on the street, she watched as a single figure got out. She straightened up, the driver wasn’t alone, she’d seen Zogden. A moment later, he got out of the passenger side. The driver went to him and the men spoke without moving.

The bar was on a corner, on the edge of the city, not in one of the hipster neighborhoods, but probably not in the roughest part of town either.

She’d driven across state lines to get to Zogden, forfeited sleep and sustenance, all to make headway on her quest. All the while she’d cursed the name of the lover who had spurned her and his friend who she’d trusted with her life.

With her heart thumping in her throat and her adrenaline beginning to rise, she came to the realization that this was her chance. But, she hated herself for thinking of how much safer she’d be with either of those betrayers at her side.

The men across the way finished their conversation and started into the bar. Zogden took the lead, pulling at his shirt cuffs before opening the main door and entering with the slightly less well dressed man behind him. Both had been wearing suits, but one of the two certainly exuded better breeding.

Sort of like Raid and Diego, both men were formidable, dangerous, equally as capable as the other, and yet, to her, their differences were stark.

Trying her best to forget those men from her past, while not hating herself for thinking of them at all, she grabbed a bag from the backseat and tossed it onto the passenger seat next to her in the front.

Inside were supplies she’d cobbled together in the week or so since she’d awoken in the motel room dumped back in civilization. Anything she thought she’d need to complete her mission was inside, including a change of clothes.

She couldn’t do much about her pallor, which was probably off through exhaustion. But, if the dive bar was as she imagined, the lighting would probably be her saving grace.

Whipping off her top in a flash, she pulled the low-cut stretch dress she’d tossed into the bag over her head and pushed it down over her torso. She lifted her hips to wiggle it down over her ass, swiped on some lipstick and mascara and smiled at herself in the mirror, convincing herself she could forget enough of this guy’s file to get through the night while remembering enough of it to remain motivated.

It wasn’t until she’d locked up the car, and taken note of where it was parked, that she started thinking about the details of her plan. All she knew as she stalked across the intersection was that she’d have to flirt enough to interest him without making him think he was really going to get anywhere near her underwear. Not an easy task. The man was a rapist after all; it was his ideology that consent was optional. If he decided he wanted her, he could decide just to take her.

“Oh, Raid, you bastard,” she whispered to herself when she got to the parking lot.

Pissed off as she was at him for breaking her heart and disappointing her, it wasn’t the Laird’s fault that she was here. Shea could’ve gone back to her life and forgotten about her experience with Raid, forgotten about Zogden, and about justice.

One thing she could blame her ex for was the fact that she was walking into this situation alone. If her lover had trusted her, if he’d loved her, then they could’ve joined their lives. Shea could’ve been a useful part of a mission like this and had back up ensuring her safety.

Though the truth was, she cursed him for making her feel safe in the first place. In the compound, a location as dangerous as hell on Earth, she’d existed in a cocoon of safety and probably could’ve walked the halls naked, taunting men, and still never been touched. Raid made her feel part of something. Made her love him. Made her envision a future for them both. And then, he’d snatched it all away.

If he’d never let her feel that way in the first place, she would’ve lived her life oblivious. She thought about the early days in her cell when Diego had come to her stating that if she caused trouble, Raid had ordered her to be sedated in the infirmary. Shea had never thought she’d see the day she wished they’d chosen that option. Yet, here it was. Today, oblivion seemed like bliss.

Opening the door to the bar, she heard music, smelled a mix of sweat, cologne, and alcohol, and discovered her speculation about the lighting had been right. It was low enough that she didn’t have to worry too much about her complexion.

The bar itself was well lit and a central dance floor played host to a score of people, some in groups, others in couples, but none of them were her target.

Shea made her way to the bar, being discreet in her careful assessment of the faces in the room. Zogden could’ve come to this place for a private meeting. It was big enough to have modest function rooms somewhere around. Just as she started to think about coming up with a plan B, she noticed Zogden’s companion sitting at the end of the bar.

Although there was a beer bottle in front of him, she didn’t see him lift it once in the time it took her to make her way to his position. Trying not to make a beeline, Shea instead went with a casual approach. When she sat on the vacant stool two away from his, she kept her focus on trying to get the bartender’s attention, as anyone would who’d just come to a bar.

Zogden’s companion noticed her. In her peripheral vision, she noted him checking her out. Shea deliberately elongated her body as she stretched across the bar and waved at the bartender who did eventually see her and start her way.

“Finally,” she muttered and sank onto her stool.

“Having a bad day?”

Showing a bit of leg and cleavage never failed. Doing her best to look surprised, she’d secretly been hoping he would eavesdrop.

“Oh, uh… Yeah, I guess you could say that,” she said and suddenly panicked.

What should she order? Raid’s alcohol embargo had lessened her tolerance for booze. While, as his girl, he’d let her partake in his house, he’d kept her on a tight limit when he found out how quickly alcohol affected her.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Whatever my friend is having,” she said. “Make it two.” If she’d had a bad day, it might make sense to order something stronger than beer. Though, if she wanted to keep what little was left of her virtue, partaking in hard liquor would be insanity. “And one for him too.”

The bartender went away and her new friend moved along to the stool by hers, wasting no time in getting close. “I’m still working on this one,” he said, raising his bottle to his lips to take a good long drink.

“I’m sorry, I… I just hate drinking alone.”

“Well, now you’re not,” he said with a smile. “Why come to a bar if you don’t want to drink alone? I guess you’re not meeting anyone if you’re buying me drinks.”

“I was job hunting all day,” she said, paying the bartender when he brought their drinks. “Then I got sick of pacing in my apartment worrying about how I’d pay the bills. I figured it was better to come out for a drink than to disappear into a bottle at home alone… less pathetic.”

He smiled, and she noted how nice the expression was. Simple, unthreatening. If she didn’t know what his boss was capable of, she’d be drawn in. But, Shea had no doubt that this man was dangerous.

“What is it you do?” he asked.

“Right now, I’d take almost anything. It’s not easy out there for a girl with almost no qualifications and no references.”

“What did you do before?”

She took a deep breath. “My boyfriend,” she said and was pleased to see him taken aback by her response. “He made money, took care of me, and I never had to worry about supporting myself.”

“What did he do?”

Trying to make it seem that she was hiding a smile, she ran a finger down the edge of the label on her bottle. “I never asked and he never volunteered his résumé,” she said, just letting herself peek at him for a brief second.

A look of understanding settled on his face. Him assuming she’d been complicit in illegality worked out for her. In theory, it should mean that he and his boss would be less wary of concealing their immorality in front of her.

“You could extort him, tell him you want cash in exchange for silence.”

She laughed. “That would be an excellent plan if he wouldn’t sooner shoot me in the head than help me.” Shea took a drink and her time about putting down the bottle so she could lick her lips at the same languorous pace. “No, I… I wish him well in his life. I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want to ruin him either. No, I have to move on… and that means finding a new job.”

He didn’t say anything and she let him just watch her while she pretended to be deep in thought, alternating between drinking, twisting her bottle at its base, and catching the condensation on the glass with a fingertip.

“I might be able to help you out,” he said.

Shea straightened, landing suspicion on him. It didn’t hurt to appear wary. “How?” she asked and narrowed her eyes. “I’m looking for a long term job, not a quick hit of cash.”

Translated, she meant she wasn’t a prostitute and it seemed he understood what she was saying when he bobbed his head.

“My boss is in a meeting.” He looked at his watch and then grabbed a napkin and a pen from his inside pocket to jot something onto it. “I have to meet him out front in a minute, but come to this address tomorrow at noon. I might have something for you.”

He handed over the napkin and she read what he’d written, pretending to be learning the address for the first time. He left his stool and finished his bottle of beer while pushing the other, the one she’d bought for him, toward her.

“I, uh… thank you.”

“If you like being looked after by rich men, you won’t regret it,” he said and touched her cheek.

That sounded ominous enough that a chill went through her as she watched him go. This was just the first step toward a larger goal. Shea should be happy that she’d made progress, though her show of skin probably had a lot to do with that.

Next came the real test.

Shea wanted to prove she was capable of taking on a cause herself without Raid’s resources and support. Now she’d find out if she had what it took to see it through.