Trigger warnings: allusions to trauma of an indiscriminate nature, and consent issues.
5 months ago
Zack pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been waiting at the top of the Space Needle for half an hour. Max wasn't usually late to their drops, plus it was about to start raining, and he was starving. He wanted to get back to base.
Finally, he heard her footfalls a few floors from the top. She burst through the roof access door and marched angrily over to him. "Here's your precious fucking proof." She handed him an envelope and he opened the clasp to peek inside.
"Great. I'll get this back to the Director so we can plan our next countermeasure."
He was so goddamn tone deaf to the situation. Where the hell had his humanity gone? What about his observational skills? Couldn't he see that she was in distress? Did he even care? "Great," she deadpanned.
Zack ran a hand through his hair. "Something else to report?" He fingertipped through a few of the pages, his soft blue eyes never meeting hers.
Max bit her lip a second while she weighed the risks of telling him versus not telling him. She swept her dark hair over one shoulder, which revealed some bruising on her collarbone. He still didn't look. "Yeah. Cale's deal with Hall fell though. I guess Dryden tipped off the Senator, so now he can't blackmail the Senator for support."
Zack's brows lifted. "Oh. That's good for us." He finally saw her then, even glanced over her neck, but didn't say anything about the fingertip-shaped bruises on her collarbone.
Blinking blankly at him, Max nodded.
"So why do you look like someone pissed in your rations?"
"Believe it or not, Zack, there are some things that aren't about our jobs." God, Zack had such a thick head. Maybe he was one of those people who expected someone to just say everything unprompted.
His square jaw tensed as he mentally tried to decipher her vague statements. "Max, you're not normally this emotional. You always do whatever it takes."
She could hardly wait until this mission was over and Cale was dead. It felt like the only thing keeping her going at this point. How could she explain that, even though she was a Romeo and sex was part of her job, Cale was turning into a power-hungry, douchebag narcissist?
"He got rough with me again tonight," she said lowly. "Tried to fuck the barcode right off of me. This is more than just 'revenge' for his wife."
"Did you do something?"
Max's eyes widened. Did I do something? "Yeah, I got my breasts pawed at and my labia rubbed raw for forty-five fucking minutes and then he got the call from Dryden, which really put him in the mood. I still have keyboard imprints on my arm and a hell of a headache."
He knocked the envelope against his open hand. "But you got what we needed."
As if anything was excusable as long as she did her job, produced results.
"I guess. This is the second time now that he's been kind of rapey. He is getting worse, acting like the spoiled, rich, bag of dicks that he is, and I swear to the Blue Lady, Zack, if he ever touches me like this again, I'm going to break his fucking dick."
He had the audacity to laugh. "Well I can't put that in the report."
He had no idea that just an hour previous, Max's left cheek had been pressed to Logan's glass desktop while he grunted and strained from behind her, his fingers curling painfully around her shoulder and digging into her collarbone while he punctuated his hate for barcoded hybrids with thrusts hard enough to make his monitors shake and the table legs scrape along the wooden floors. She had laid there, doing whatever it took like her handler instructed, while Cale berated hybrids and spat out venomous false information about Manticore and its 'fucking freak show of sociopaths' before he came hard. Her left hip hurt where his hand had grabbed her to try to hold her steady against his violent thrusts.
The night had not started out so crazy, but she couldn't help but think one of these times, he would find a way to blur the lines of consent. Yes, she was stronger than him, smarter than him. She already felt sick to her stomach for allowing the sexual events of the night to unfold like they did.
She should have listened to her instincts. She should have steered clear of him tonight, figured out some other way to lift the proof Zack wanted. Waited until he adjourned from his office, dragged himself to bed, and then performed some mild B and E to lift the documents and copy the files. At least then she would have held onto her fucking dignity.
When he returned from the bathroom, the brunette spy had already copied the files, hidden the envelope in her coat, and redressed haphazardly. And she was fucking pissed. The more she thought about it, the more she decided she would not let this slide.
Logan's surprised eyes stared into her worriedly. "What's wrong?"
Max grit her teeth. "Do you honestly think there's nothing wrong with what just happened? I can't help but think you fucking nailed me just now because of your vendetta against Manticore."
The cyber 'journalist' stood there, his mouth agape. He glanced at his desk, then back to her, no hint of remorse or even a flicker of change in his emotion.
"After everything I've told you about my past..." she added, casting her eyes down toward the floor. She gathered up her jacket. "I just, I can't do this. I just... can't."
Now
Outside the main house, Max crept quietly along the trees on the right side of the long dirt path leading in from the street. Once she was about a hundred feet out, she cut into the tree line and started her trek, hopeful to find their growing operation sooner rather than later. Less than 100 acres was still a large search area, so she hustled, looking out for ranch hands or anyone else who might have reason to point the business end of a firearm at her head.
The terrain was a little rough at first, especially close to the path from the street, but she treaded carefully, and managed to miss most of the sharp rocks until she reached a clearing between the main path and what looked to be an orchard. There was a faint scent of apples, but she knew they wouldn't be ready to harvest for another three months at least.
She appreciated how perfect the orchard grid pattern was as she stayed just off the path, heading northwest in an arc she planned to swing to the east after a few more acres. It was predictable, and as she walked along, she snapped photos with the phone.
After a few acres' search inward, the cold night permeated the nightgown, and those same extremities she'd felt warming from Alec's masterful kisses and caressing touches now cooled from the dropping temperature.
We can't, Max, she replayed in her mind, seeing those honey-hued green eyes of his pleading for her to understand. Why did he keep allowing himself to get closer to her only to cut her off?
Maybe he'd planned this whole thing so that she'd sneak out and get the proof they needed tonight. There was no way the Walkers were going to show them their illegal operation tomorrow. At best, they'd only alluded to it tonight; plus, they didn't know Edward and Eva well enough to trust them.
If that was the case, then she'd fallen for it. The whole thing. And that pissed her off, too. Her record was impeccable for a reason; and here he was manipulating her into doing something she would have done anyway without his direct order, using their bond, taking advantage of her possible feelings for him to achieve a mission objective.
A few tears slid down her face, and she brushed them away with her knuckles as a greenhouse came into view just over a hill.
Jackpot.
She clung to the shadows as best she could while creeping closer. It had to be the right building, since there were three guards sitting outside holding machine guns.
Rustling in nearby brush caught her attention and she crouched down, hoping the guards hadn't heard it. She waited silently.
"Max?" came Alec's whispered surprise.
Her head jerked toward the sound and she saw Alec army-man crawl toward her. He was wearing pants and nothing else. What did he do, climb right out of the bathroom window? How the hell did he get here? Was he looking for her?
Once he crossed the path, he joined her in the trees and crouched down next to her. His chest was smudged with dirt, a couple of scratches, and a fine sheen of sweat. He must have hauled ass from the other side of the property. Their feet looked almost the same - dusty, a few cuts that bled but were already scabbing over.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly. "Are you hurt?" In the low light, the whites of his eyes shined clear. He raised his knuckles to her cheek and wiped a tear. His fingers were cold, now, and the rest of him probably was too.
"I'm okay. You?"
He nodded, still unsure if she was really okay. "What are you doing out here?"
She held up her phone. "Getting proof."
He pulled the policeman's body cam from his pocket. "Me, too."
She thought he might've been mad, because she left the main house without saying anything. But maybe he couldn't be mad since he'd done the very same thing.
"I went west out the front door, I was going to search outward and work my way around," she offered. "Just found this place. Did you get anything?"
"This is the second greenhouse on the property. First one's a couple hundred feet from the eastern part of the farm. I could see it from the bathroom window."
Max did the quick math. They'd both been gone more than twenty minutes. "How long do you think until they sound the alarms?"
As if right on cue, the three guards' walkie talkies sparked to life. They were told to look out for a young couple on the grounds, and to bring them to the main house if they were found.
"The stables are about twelve acres back that way," he nodded his head toward the direction from which he'd come. "It's behind the farmhouse just over the hill. We make it back there, we're golden."
"Do you already have the proof?" asked Max, looking over to the second greenhouse.
"We can get this one later," he said.
She fixed him with a determined brow. "We can play this to our advantage," she chanced. They'd already made it all the way out here; she could get their proof.
"I think we should abort," he countered. "They're on the lookout for us now."
"I could distract them while you obtain the evidence of this second greenhouse."
Am I talking to a wall? "It's too dangerous, they have machine guns."
"But they won't shoot us," she said.
"It's a bad idea, and we already have proof from inside the first one."
No amount of logic could make her back down. "You see that hatch? I can get up there."
He had seen the hatch - a skylight-type window held open by a little post. "Max, no. I don't like it. We're barely wearing any clothes at all and we have no weapons. Odds are kinda low we won't be seen." Alec glanced down to her attire. "Especially you, looking like a damn sunflower in that nightgown."
His words weren't getting through to her, though. She studied the beams and he could see her planning how to scale the walls.
"They never look up anyway," she voiced. She would circle around the back.
"Dammit, Rachel," he whispered just a little bit louder.
Max froze in place, and met his stare. What. The fuck.
He realized his mistake right away and gritted his teeth. "We need to get to the stables."
He could barely contain his frustration. She let go of the chance at more proof and followed him. Once they were a few acres in, satisfied no guards would hear them, they went from lightly jogging to blurring until they reached the stables. There were enough stalls for two dozen horses, plus the hayloft above.
"We can't get back to the main house now, they would have searched the house already. We'll have to get caught out somewhere." Alec peered into the darkness and zoomed in on their surroundings, enhancing his hearing as well. "They're getting closer."
"Come on," Max said, heading up to the hayloft. Alec followed her onto the wooden loft. A few bales decorated the space, with a healthy amount of the yellowed straw littering the floor. There was an opening whose shutters were drawn, which allowed them vision to the sea of stars and the moon above. The sky was so crisp, so serene. Total opposite of how they both felt.
"What was your story if you were caught?"
"That we got in a fight and I needed to call my best friend." She cased the surroundings for any movement indicating from which direction the Walkers or their hired muscle would come.
"Okay," he said, looking around and then back to Max. She had really thought this out. "Why did we get in a fight?"
Concern flooded his face, and she had a hard time speaking. Was he asking why Max and Alec got in a fight, or why Eva and Edward got in a fight? She was embarrassed to admit that she was hurt by his rejection, and then hurt further realizing he must have planned the whole thing so he could find the Walker's growing operation. "You called me by another woman's name."
It was true in both professional and personal arenas. He'd called Eva 'Max,' and he'd called Max 'Rachel.' He didn't have an excuse for either one. But at least he could try to offer her the truth. "Is that what these tears are about?" he asked, getting closer to her.
Sort of, she thought. Her wild curiosity regarding the agent he wouldn't talk about fell short by comparison to him breaking cover in the bedroom.
"Max, I'm so sorry. I don't know how to explain."
"Try," she pushed. "I guarantee you, my imagination is worse."
He scrubbed a hand over his neck. "Out there in the trees... well, I know I owe you an explanation about that, but it's a much longer one than I can give you right now."
Max crossed her arms and waited. Was he going to give her anything at all?
He huffed. "And in the bedroom, things were getting so... intense. I really needed you to push me away."
"So that you could go find the coca?"
"No," he began, frustrated with himself. "I mean, we did need to find a way to do that tonight. They're not going to show us their operation."
She couldn't bring herself to ask again. She wasn't sure she could handle the truth right now. Because, what if it was because he just didn't want her, and there she was pushing the line? She felt like such a hypocrite, and she wanted to be nothing like Logan Cale. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
That wasn't exactly true. She was sorry, but she knew what'd come over her. She'd thought he was reciprocating her feelings, that he was as much into her as she was into him.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. "You don't have to apologize, it's my fault. You start kissing me and I just... get lost in you."
What now? "You... get lost?"
He took a breath. "I kiss you and you taste so good, and your hands..." his eyes shifted up and a swath of shivers skated up his chest while he remembered how her hands felt on his bare skin. "I forget our cover IDs, and I forget we're being watched, and then it's so goddamn hard to stop."
Speechless. No words came to her mind while he confessed.
"I don't want to be that guy, Max."
Her eyes welled with tears again. If this was him letting her down easy, he was rotten at it. But at least it would give her a definitive answer. She turned her cheek to the moonlight and let the emotion wash over her.
"Christ. Max, please look at me," he implored. As much as it pained her, she shifted back to him.
"I can't be that guy," he pleaded, searching her chocolate eyes. "That guy who takes advantage of you like that. I can't be Zack or Dorokov." He glanced down to her trembling lip and back up. His brows tilted up to beg her comprehension. "I can't be Cale."
Her tears stopped as what he said finally dawned on her, but they couldn't continue talking as themselves, because they both heard the noisy steps of people entering the stables.
The brunette agent thumbed his cheek gently, his hand reaching up to squeeze hers before circling around her back. She swept her other hand up his chest and cupped his face. His lips parted a fraction of an inch when Max kissed his freckled cheekbones so softly he could have sworn it was a dream, but when he opened his eyes to her heavy-lidded gaze, the seconds slowed to stretch eternity in the space between their lips.
This is it, Max thought, leaning up to show him how she really felt. Her heart blossomed in her chest, and she touched her lips to his.