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I stab a finger at him. "Yes, sireee, it’s your fault. You make me nervous. Am I the only one who’s nervous?"
I glance around, taking in the various expressions of surprise and amusement that the rest of them wear. "But seriously,"—I turn on him—“isn’t therapy the best way to give yourself a chance to adjust back to civilian life?"
“Are you saying you’d rather I had not come to meet you and”—he jerks his chin in the general direction of the room—“our friends?”
“No, no, I was only concerned that it might be too much for you to have descended here in the middle of a group of people when you’ve spent the last six months being tortured and—” I squeeze my eyes shut and flatten my lips, then count from five-four-three-two-one. When I open my eyes, everyone is still staring at me.
"Oh, my gawd! That’s it. I have officially reached the end of my tether. Can’t take me out anywhere, eh?" I laugh weakly.
Someone in the room begins to chuckle—it’s Cade, Abby’s husband. I scowl at him, and he turns it into a cough. Another man guffaws loudly. When I look at him, he shoots me a thumbs up sign. Huh? He’s older than the rest of us and a friend of Cade’s. Guess he must see something I don’t? The man standing next to him, also tall and broad, with intense looks—Abby mentioned he’s the co-owner of the leading financial services company in the country—looks between me and Knight, then smirks.
That only seems to annoy Knight even more. His gaze intensifies, and his jaw tightens further. Jesus, he might just crack a molar, or ten, at this rate. He folds his arms across his chest, and those massive biceps of his stretch the sleeves of his shirt. And this is when he’s leaner. He was an absolute beast when I first saw him. The kind who’d gift Beauty a library because she likes to read.
I’ve set my standards high for what I want in a man, but lord above, this man tempts me. He does look like a beast, though. A very mad, very grumpy, very sexy beast. I widen my smile—mainly to hide the fluttering of my heart and my pussy, which seems to have developed a sudden plumbing problem, what with all the moisture sliding through my slit.
Ignore it. Ignore the little fires that have popped under my skin. Ignore the bead of sweat that runs down my spine.
I tip up my chin and glance around at my friends, "Right, then. Now that I’ve made a complete earthworm of myself, can someone point me in the direction of the door?"
Mira’s lips twitch. "Uh, Penny, did you say, earthworm?"
"Yeah, you know, since I don’t like to swear. And I’ll take my torn Chucks—which, by the way, are the same as Converse. Did you know that? I didn’t. I had to, uh, Google it and— Oh, my god, I’m doing it again. I’m jabbering on." I hunch my shoulders. "Can we pretend that didn’t happen?"
A nerve pops at Knight’s temple. “To answer your question, I’m good. I might have been locked up and tortured for six months—”
I swallow.
“—but that’s only made me stronger. It’s exactly what my job prepared me for. A job I've since given up. And now, I have a question of my own.” He looks me up and down. "Who the fuck are you?"
Knight
“Penny.” She flashes me a big smile, her blue eyes sparkling. She thrusts out her hand and approaches me. “I’m Penny.”
I purposely cross my arms over my chest. Her face falls, then she lowers her hand and manages to smile again.Fucking hell, did she swallow sunshine and rainbows today?
“It’s okay, I know who you are.”
I glare at her.
Some of the color fades from her cheeks. Her smile finally switches off,thank fuck.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to talk or anything. My ma says I can keep a conversation going all on my own.”
She pushes a strand of pink-colored hair behind her tiny ear. Her heart shaped face has high cheekbones, a turned-up nose and a plush bow shaped mouth that’s currently moving again. I tune her out and focus on the dress that drapes over her narrow shoulders—also pink. What a surprise, eh? It dips low enough at the neckline to hint at her ample cleavage.
Cleavage I’ve been trying to keep my gaze off of since I slipped in the door. The only reason I’m here is because I knew my sister would be anxious to see me.
It’s been forty-eight hours since I was extracted from hell. During that time, I was flown to a military base in Germany and debriefed. After a quick shower and five hours of sleep, I was ready to be transferred home. They insisted I speak with a shrink, which I initially refused. I finally agreed to it after being told I couldn't return home without doing it, since they needed to ensure I was of sound mind.
After that, I sat through a meeting with my superiors. I must have said enough to convey to them that I was quitting. They were not happy. Not only because I'm one of the few soldiers to escape from being a captive of an enemy state known for beheading people on screen. Just the fact that they didn't immediately do that to me is both a mystery and a guilt-trip I’ll carry with me forever. Especially since two other members of my team were killed in front of my eyes.
This is exactly why I always insisted on working alone. A dictate that worked well for me. Until this particular mission, where my orders were to go in as part of a squad. Fucking hell. I had a bad feeling about it from the beginning. But orders are orders. One doesn’t disobey them when they're handed down from the highest authority in the country.
Like a good soldier—and ultimately, that’s all I was, regardless of the fact that I was part of the secret service—I answered the call of my motherland. And almost died. That I’m standing here today is, in no little part, due to the crack-extraction team my friends put together to get me out of the purgatory I was trapped in. Black, darkness, pain, and a sense of hopelessness were my constant companions. In some ways, I'm still stuck in that coffin-shaped hole they stuck me in. In some ways, I'm still stretched out on that table while my enemies waterboarded me, before sticking electric rods onto my extremities and—
"Hey, you okay?"
I scowl down at the slip of a woman who’s waving her hand at me? "You, uh, you blanked out there for a second."
