Читать книгу Being Emerald - Sylvia Ryan - Страница 9

Laila lay wide-awake in her dark bedroom. It was becoming a pattern. The night before, she hadn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour or two. The whole move to the Emerald Zone had her out of sorts.

Five years ago, when her IQ testing promptly landed her a Sapphire designation and a one way ticket out of the Amber Zone. It had been a brutal adjustment. She’d thought she was going to a new, better place. She’d been a child who dreamed of happily ever after with the Sapphire Zone being a land of unicorns and rainbows. It had taken no time at all to realize she was expected to pick up the unicorn shit.

Her naiveté at the tender age of twenty-one was laughable. No one had told her when she’d been hustled off into Sapphire that the majority of people living in her new zone would treat her as if the tattoo around her wrist was still amber instead of the rich blue she’d worked so hard for. Her physical characteristics marked her as Amber. It didn’t matter what color was around her wrist.

The Emerald Zone didn’t seem much different. Bigger house, different color around her wrist, but still, the day in and day out of her life remained the same. People stared at her as if they might be able to spot her defects. She rarely left her apartment, except to go to her office. In the past five years, as Morgan Jr. came into power, the National Guard’s constant, intimidating presence and the growing undertones of fear she sensed in practically everybody she met made her increasingly uneasy. Mostly she hid, submerging herself in her program.

Tonight, she was more tired than she could ever remember being, yet her mind refused to rest. She didn’t consider herself a worrier, but the complete upheaval of her life, combined with the growing apprehension about her Resistance mission had led her to this—another stint of tossing and turning, racing thoughts, and now, something new to think about—Rock.

She swung her feet off the edge of the bed. The late spring breeze moved the curtains of the window overlooking her street. She’d seen him arrive at his home, which was across the street from her own new monstrosity.

To know someone like him was so close was maddening. Her heartbeat gave a little flutter. She’d met him once before, on the first day she’d been granted access to The Onyx Zone Recovery Compound. They called it OZ. It had been an introduction in passing, shared hellos and then they’d gone their separate ways. She’d been to the compound several times since, transferring items necessary for the trip from her office in the Peacekeeper’s Compound to the tiny, makeshift space they’d allotted her in OZ. Many times she’d sat there alone, gazing out the window, watching Rock jog the perimeter of the compound before the heat of the day became oppressive.

Maybe he suffered like her.

She stood and pulled the curtain back.

A faint light radiated out his front windows. She checked the time. Ten fifteen. Laila slipped on her flip-flops, treaded down the steps and out her front door. His house was modern and looked larger than hers. Its jutting roofline accommodated vertical transom windows at the peak before another plane sliced down the front of the house.

She felt him even now as she crossed the street and entered his yard. He was calm and lonely. The rage from earlier in the day had diffused. The connection between them dumbfounded her. It was as if a part of her had slipped into its rightful place the first time she’d reached out to see if she could feel him.

He’d been raised Amber. If he didn’t want company, the door would be locked. She turned the knob, and the door swung inward into a silent great room bathed in dark shadows. He sat toward the back of the space underneath a light. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she approached him. His back was to her as he fiddled with something at the kitchen island.

She cleared her throat. “I saw your lights on.”

There was no element of surprise in his expression as he glanced up at the single light shining over his head. “Barely.”

She smiled. “How do you stand it? It’s a ghost town here.” She laughed nervously. “I thought I saw tumbleweeds rolling down the street.”

He shrugged. “I’m not here often.”

“I can see that.” She scanned the clothes spilling out of the duffel bag on the floor of the great room.

“You were Amber?”

She faced him and met his gaze. “Yes. I was designated Sapphire due to my IQ scores.” The intensity of his stare made her uncomfortably self-conscious, causing her to turn away. She crossed to his refrigerator, opened it and stuck her head into the cool air. “Milk? That’s all you have?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught him shoving whatever he’d been doing into a drawer. “What’s that?”

“A project.”

“Really? You’re going to make me ask?”

“I don’t want you to ask. It’s none of your business.” He walked to the fridge, opened the freezer and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. He poured some into two short glasses and handed her one. He downed his and refilled it.

Laila took hers and wandered into the great room. It was difficult trying to slip back into her old self—Amber Laila. That girl didn’t fit as comfortably as she used to. That fact saddened her more than she wanted to acknowledge at the moment.

Flipping on the video feed, she plopped down on the couch. Rock followed and lowered himself next to her. They sat shoulder to shoulder. “Where’d they put you?” he asked.

“Across the street.”

He nodded. “They’re filling the street house by house. You’re the third person to get designated Emerald since I got here last summer.” He clinked his glass with hers. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he practically growled, then threw back his drink. “What happened this afternoon when you left the meeting?”

She couldn’t tell him the truth, and refused to lie. She raced to find the right words, and the longer his stare bore into her, the angrier his expression became. Finally, she shrugged and gave the same lame excuse she’d used earlier. “I felt a little overwhelmed.”

“By Garret’s presentation?”

She broke their eye contact and feigned interest in the video playing. “No.” She felt him staring at her. Waiting.

“Morgan was touching you. Has he done that before?”

“No. I think his advances were for your benefit.”

“Probably were. Sorry about that.”

“I’m not the only person who thought so.”

“Sydney?”

Laila nodded.

“Let me know if she bothers you again. I told her to communicate through me from now on.”

“Why?”

“It didn’t take a mind reader to tell she was being nasty. It was written all over your face.”

“Oh.” He smiled down at her. He was gorgeous when he smiled. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I got the distinct impression there was some hostility there between you and Morgan.”

“That is an understatement.”

“I’m not a fan either.”

His gaze was hard. His jaw clenched. “Don’t worry. Now that I know you don’t want him touching you, he won’t get the opportunity again.”

“Nice sentiment.” She shifted and laid her head against his arm. “But Morgan can pretty much do whatever he pleases.”

“No, he can’t. Not this time,” he mumbled.

Laila let the comment go. Even with all her barriers up, she felt his anger flare, but it was nowhere near the level he’d escalated to that afternoon.

Tucking her hand between his bicep and torso, she snuggled close. It had been so long since she’d felt the trademark unconditional acceptance from another Amber. She’d never gotten an opportunity to experience the protection and care an Amber man instinctively exhibited. Maybe now. She sighed, contented. After all the years living alone in the Sapphire Zone, she finally had the touch, the sense of belonging she needed again.

God, she’d agonized at the loss all those years ago. Eventually, she found the only way to cope with total isolation was by locking her emotions down and ignoring her need. Her refusal to let the solitude affect her helped her survive the complete disconnect from everyone and everything she’d ever known. Now, sitting there, the locks broke and relief flooded her.

“It feels so good.” She didn’t need to elaborate. She’d felt his loneliness.

Rock wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in so her cheek rested on his chest.

“I missed it so much,” she whispered. She wasn’t alone anymore. Laila tried to swallow around her tight throat. But with her next breath, her composure fractured. Hot tears streaked down her face. When he squeezed her tightly and shushed her, his massive arms weighing heavily and giving comfort, she cried harder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and rocked her tenderly.

Mortified, she started to pull away. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into his side. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

She gave up trying to hold it all in.