Читать книгу Being Sapphire - Sylvia Ryan - Страница 10

4

Shane ignored the tone that sounded from his earbud, signaling an incoming com. His hands were busy pushing Trent’s face into the mattress while savagely thrusting his cock into the man’s exquisitely tight ass.

He took in the view of the sweaty male form laid out before him. It was his to rule, use and discipline as he wished. Trent was his conquest for the evening. He was physically larger than Shane, but submitted so nicely.

Shane ran his hand over the reserve of lube puddled just above the crack of Trent’s ass. Then, lowered himself so his body covered him. His nipples slipped over the sweaty skin of the man beneath him with every brutal thrust Shane delivered. He reached around and grabbed the man’s bobbing cock. It fit heavy and diamond hard in his fist. Trent’s soft groan of protest drifted through the sweaty air.

“You’ll hold it until I say, or you will be disciplined again,” Shane growled, pumping his hips and fist in unison.

He knew Trent was trying hard to hold back that impending explosion of ecstasy, hoping to please Shane. Hoping Shane would consider taking him on, even though he’d been straight with Trent from the beginning, cautioning him he would never take a male as his own.

Shane wasn’t gay, but sometimes he was forced to take satisfaction where he could get it, and sometimes the only way he could get it was with a man. He didn’t mind as long as it didn’t happen too often. Truth was, he got a bigger high from dominating a man, but he wasn’t sexually excited by them. With a man under him, it was all about the dominance, power exchange and control. When he found the right person, it would be about both, domination and sexual gratification. Plus, he didn’t think he’d ever feel the compulsion to take care of a man like he would a woman. But it was sweet of Trent to try anyway.

“Please,” Trent cried, seeking permission to come while so near orgasm.

He was rigid with the effort to hold back the bursts of relief. Shane delivered another brutal twist of the wide cock head at the apex of his stroke and Trent’s back curled upward, like a cat. Then, crying out, he thrust hard and fast within the tunnel of Shane’s fist. Cum spurted and rolled, warm on the outside of his hand while Trent rode his orgasm to the very end, shooting cum onto the clean, white sheets. And when he was completely done shooting his load without permission, Shane covered Trent’s mouth with his cum-slicked hand.

“Bad.”

He thrust hard and Trent whimpered.

“Boy.”

He thrust again and came in Trent’s ass. “Fuck yeah,” he spat with a wild, uncontrolled series of pumps that continued his orgasm, coating Trent with his cum, both inside and out.

Shane stayed with Trent only as long as he needed to before he made a beeline for the door. When he reached the courtyard, he knew something wasn’t right. Crowds of people milled about, yelling and crying. He stilled, taking in the commotion, and then remembered the com he received earlier. He tapped his earbud. “Play.”

“Hey, bro. I need a favor…”

* * * *

Jordan’s jaw dropped open a second before she lunged forward and pulled Patrick over the threshold into her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. Her knee-jerk reaction to protect him from being seen outside her door was significant. Apparently, her subconscious had already made its decision whether Patrick was dangerous or not.

She turned and eyed him by the light spilling from the bathroom and attempted to clarify her confusion.

“No. Not Patrick,” she said. “Who are you?”

The man smiled at her. “Shane O’Connor. The older and more handsome version of Patrick.”

She couldn’t prevent her lips from quirking up at his remark. “Also the slightly skinnier version.”

“Ah, yes. I miss my ma’s cookin’.”

“Twins?”

He nodded, smiled and then gave her an obvious once-over. “Patrick was right. You’re very pretty.”

She looked at the floor, not sure how to respond to his compliment. In her life, compliments were few and far between, and when one was given, it was usually related to work, not the way she looked.

Realizing she stood there wearing only a towel, she walked to her dresser and pulled out a nightshirt.

“Now don’t be getting dressed on my account,” he said with a more serious tone than she’d ever heard Patrick use, even when they were in danger.

“Ah, and there it is, that O’Connor humor. It must run in the family.” She noticed his Amber designation tattoo and the slightly more aged patina his face presented compared to his identical twin. “Why are you here, Shane?” she asked softly, assuming he was there at Patrick’s request, but not knowing exactly why he stood in her apartment in the middle of the night.

“Patrick commed me. His message was cryptic, but I got the gist. Your roommate was killed?”

Jordan nodded and looked away from him, not wanting to reveal weakness. It was an automatic behavior more than an indication that she didn’t trust Shane.

“Patrick wanted me to stay with you and make sure you’re okay.” He shrugged. “He didn’t want you to be alone.”

Jordan sighed, then nodded. “Thanks. I was settling in for the night.” She motioned toward the far side of the bed. “You can sleep on that side if you want to join me.”

As she climbed under the covers, she didn’t care whether Shane was friend or foe. She was too tired.

Shane sidled over to Dennis’s side of the room and removed his shoes.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about that brother of yours,” she murmured into the shadows created by the wedge of light escaping through the partially closed bathroom door.

“Can you fill me in on exactly what’s going on? Like I said, our communications are kind of cryptic.”

Jordan lay on her back, looking at the ceiling. She didn’t know where to look while he got ready for bed. God, already she missed Dennis with a desperate urgency that scared her. With him, awkwardness about that kind of stuff vanished years ago. The two of them were comfortable with each other. He was the only person in the world she ever experienced that odd sensation of comfort with. Jordan’s throat tightened and she swallowed hard to push down the fear that was already returning.

The bed dipped as Shane slid in beside her. He reached out and clasped her hand in his.

Her breath caught and her heart squeezed. He couldn’t possibly fathom how grateful she was for that tiny span of his skin touching hers.

“Okay. Enlighten me on my brother’s escapades.” His voice was rough and his words didn’t echo that almost nonexistent accent of Patrick’s musically lilting speech and ever so slightly rolled pronunciation of the letter r.

“I’ll give you the headlines. We can fill in the rest tomorrow morning.” She turned to look at him.” Your brother has just joined the Amber Resistance. I’m his contact.”

Shane unclasped their hands and lifted himself on his elbow. “He did what?”

“He saved me the other night after the Sterilization Center fire. He kept me from getting caught. He likes me, I think.” She sat up. “I got a note. You can help me decipher it.”

“No problem, Patrick’s encrypting is my specialty.”

She handed him the paper and watched him squint in the low light, reading the small script.

“Okay, translated from cryptic to English, it says, Don’t eliminate him because you’re an Amber and he’s a Sapphire. He thinks the resistance movement will be successful, and the two of you will be successful. That’s what this…” He pointed. “I think everything we do will be successful means.” Shane lifted his gaze to Jordan’s. “He’s got it bad for you.”

He handed the paper back to her and lay back down. Jordan returned the paper to her stand and then returned her attention to Shane.

He had a big grin on his face, like Patrick’s. “I bet Ma’s going to tan his hide when he tells her.” His grin turned wickedly evil. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when that happens.”

“When he tells her about me or about joining the resistance?”

He chuckled. “Both.”

“It didn’t occur to me that there’d be any family to approve or disapprove.” She yawned and could no longer keep her eyes open. “This is a conversation we’ll have to save until morning. I need to sleep,” she murmured. “Would you mind rolling over to face the window?”

“No, lass, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

After he rolled to face away from her, she cautiously slid closer, bringing her knees up to her chest and tucking her head under her arm. How quickly she reverted back to the way things were for her before Dennis, when she found shadows of intimacy and comfort in unconventional and covert ways because she gave her heart away too quickly, thinking that the touch meant more. She’d been totally new at all of it back then. Now, she steeled herself against the false intimacy. Tonight it would be so easy to succumb to the illusion that the man lying beside her cared about her.

She’d done that when she first arrived in Circle City. But to her, the closeness between Ambers was all a cruel joke, because the intimacy was a fleeting sensation that left just as easily as it appeared.

* * * *

It was early when Shane slid out of bed. The sun was just starting to lighten the eastern sky from black to a deep blue. He turned to look down at Jordan. She was curled in on herself, reminding him of a fetus.

He stooped for a moment so he could peek at what the arm over her head was hiding. Her face was softer when she slept. There was no mettle, no boldness there in her features without her will to guide them, just an innocent face with pouty lips.

He shook his head. What was Patrick thinking?

Grabbing his pants, he treaded to the bathroom and locked himself in. He immediately recognized the handwriting on the tan square of paper lying on the counter. It was a note from Patrick. He picked it up and read it.

Hedman,

Me and some of my friends were hoping to be invited to your next party. I’m thinking you may have already met my brother. If not, look him up so you can invite him, too. As I’ve already mentioned to Jo, I’ll be around again tomorrow if you want to hook up and maybe fill me in on what’s happening. You’ll have to let me know what you want me to bring to the table for your next blow out, and I’m there. I won’t bail on you. Promise.

PO

Huh. Patrick had a group of people willing to help. That meant Ma already knew about everything he’d gotten himself into. Shane smiled at the thought of his mother giving his twin what for.

God he missed her. He missed everybody he grew up with in the Sapphire Zone. Because of the empty, lonely feeling he experienced when he let his mind wander to them, he’d become good at redirecting his attention to something else before his thoughts gained a foothold and submerged him like they used to.

Turning his attention back to the note, he continued. Patrick wanted him to join the cause on this end. He wanted to meet Jordan again tonight. He was willing to do what they need him to, and he wanted them to know they could trust him.

Shane turned on the water in the shower and pulled his earbud out of his pocket. Putting it in, he activated it.

“Com Patrick.”

When he heard the tone indicating he should leave a message instead of his brother’s voice, Shane sighed. “Sorry I missed you, bro. Just shooting you a com to tell you our friend is okay and sleeping now. I’ll keep an eye on her, but I’m not sure what else you want me to do. I just wanted to let you know. I prefer we’re on the same page. So…that’s it. Later.” Touching his earbud again, he disconnected.

After his shower, Shane began cooking breakfast in the standard galley kitchen along the rear wall of the apartment, by the door. Jordan slept without moving while he clinked and sizzled in the kitchen. When the powdered scrambled eggs and potatoes were done, he turned the burner off and went to the bed.

He gently touched her arm to shake her awake, and she jumped up with wide eyes, swinging her fist.

Shane jerked out of the way of her right cross and caught it with a firm grip around her wrist. It only took a split second more before she gained her bearings.

“I’m sorry I startled you.” He loosened his clasp on her arm and caressed her forearm to her elbow before letting go completely. “Breakfast is ready.”

He walked back to the kitchen, filled the plates with food, and brought them to the small, two-person table on the other side of the kitchen counter, separating the cooking area from the rest of the apartment.

Jordan sat on the edge of the bed.

“Go on, before it gets cold,” he said, back on the move into the kitchen. When he returned, he set out two cups of tea and then sat down in front of one of the plates of food. Jordan looked at him from her perch on the bed. She smiled and moved to the table. “Thanks.”

He nodded and shoveled a congealed lump of eggs into his mouth. “I’ve been thinking about things this morning. The group that’s willing to help will be my mother’s people.”

She cocked her head and picked up her fork. “People?”

“Yeah. My parents are Irish, from Ireland. They were in the States for their honeymoon when the virus started spreading. They were stranded here when the Gov shut down the airports in an effort to contain it. Anyways, early on, before even the walls were completely finished, my ma quickly made friends with other women of Irish descent. They flocked to her, actually. I think her accent reminded a lot of them of their mothers or aunts whoever they’d lost in the pandemic.

“In the last two decades she’s fought hard to keep the customs and history of our ancestry alive. Every person with even a molecule of Irish descent has been absorbed into the Sapphire Zone’s Irish Heritage Club.

“She’ll contact those she trusts completely. I’d say you have a good-sized group of people waiting to do their part. One person, my cousin Kyle, pops to mind because when I left, his job assignment was as a tattoo tagger in the Sapphire Zone Designation Center. Once every few months or so, he was called to the Peacekeepers Compound in the Emerald Zone to tattoo palm codes in new Guard recruits. He’d also have access to official ink colors and a tattoo machine if you ever needed it.”

“Access to the Peacekeepers Compound. That’s where General Morgan spends his days.”

“He’s the one who’s ultimately in charge here in New Atlanta. The people we vote for are his puppets.”

“I agree,” Jordan said. She stared off as if in another world for several moments before her serious gaze met his. “So really, our ultimate goal is to assassinate General Morgan and hope everything else will fall with the dictator.”

“If we wait until Kyle has access to the Peacekeepers Compound, he can drop an innocent-looking package with a bomb inside in the right place and walk away. They wouldn’t even know it was him.”

“Maybe, but we’d have to know where the right place is. I have a friend, Rock, who’s an Emerald. He may be able to help with that. I think the first step is to have Patrick contact Rock.” Jordan ate a few more bites before she set down her fork and pushed the plate away. “How did Patrick know where I lived?”

“There’s a citizen database on the compad in the border guard station.”

Jordan nodded. “He can look up anybody?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. The first task is to have Patrick and Rock connect and see if Rock can get intel on General Morgan’s office location and his routine–like what days he’s there, usual hours, if he’s in his office around the same times each day. And if there are any times when he thinks Morgan has substandard or no security.

“It’s a good place to start. I’m also going to assign you as my protection duty on all future meets with Patrick.”

He looked up from his food. “What makes you think I want to join you?”

“Patrick assumed you would. You don’t?”

“I didn’t say that either. I have to talk to my brother first. Don’t you have to check with the resistance leaders before you start making decisions like that? Let them know about me, and see what the higher ups want me to do?”

She scowled at Shane. “No.”

Shane sat silent for a minute, weighing the possible reasons why she didn’t want to tell the resistance higher-ups about him. Either she was a resistance higher-up, or the resistance was a bunch of dreamers with no real experience or knowledge of what it would take to topple the Gov. He wanted to know which of those options applied, because he wasn’t going to put his ass on the line for a ragtag, disorganized effort to overthrow a military dictatorship.

“No. Why?” He looked at her straight-faced and silent.

“Don’t worry about it, Shane. This is not an amateur operation.”

“If I’m going to do this, I need to know some details. Only an idiot would follow blindly, and I’m no idiot.”

Jordan sat back in her chair, eyeing him. The pros and cons, checks and balances of the situation were displayed in her expression like a vignette. She pressed her lips together and tapped her fingernails on the table in front of her.

He was just about to react to her drawn-out silence when she sat back and sighed. “I’m third in command of the Amber resistance. I’m in charge of the liaison meetings with your brother, and I command all offensive missions like the sabotage the other night…and assassinations when the time comes. You’ll be introduced to my superior today, but that will be it for now until I feel satisfied you and your brother aren’t setting me up. Until then, it’s me and my boss. That’s it.

“I’m impressed. How’d you get so high up in the chain of command?”

“You mean being a girl and all?” She stared him down as much as a little peanut like her could. But when their gazes remained locked after several long seconds, she handed over the dominant position in their exchange and looked away.

“Yeah.” He smirked at her. “With you being a pixie-sized little girl and all.”

“I’m a cop.”

She spoke those three words with pride but it took a moment for it to sink in. “Ahh, I didn’t know that.” But, as the information penetrated, he saw it in her. He smiled. “It suits you.”

“What’s your job assignment?”

“I work the landscaping crew and waste removal for Gov buildings and parks.”

Jordan picked up the empty dishes from the table and walked around the counter to enter the kitchen. “Can you help me encrypt a note for your brother?”

“Sure.”

“I honestly have no clue how to get all of this information down in a way that won’t compromise him if the paper is found on his person,” she called over her shoulder as the dishes clinked in the sink.

“I wouldn’t write anything down except for maybe that Rock guy’s last name. The less written down the better.”

Shane stood and wandered around the living area of the apartment. It was oddly bare, especially on Jordan’s side of the room. No photos, no girlie baubles, nothing personal at all.

Just as she’d finished the dishes, there was a knock on the door.

Jordan glanced over at him and smiled. “Good money says that’s my boss.”

The buzz of conversations from the crowded hallway resonated through the apartment when she opened the door. “How are you doing?” It was a woman’s voice.

“I’m fine,” Jordan murmured.

“Good.” This time it was a man’s voice. Shane heard the apartment door close and lock as the man and woman walked into the living space of the apartment. The man was tall, dark and serious. Recognition played over his face as he focused on Shane. Shane recognized him, too. They’d been in the same class at the Wellness Center many years ago.

Jordan introduced Xander and Jaci. Shane shook Xander’s hand and nodded to Jaci. The two women sat at the table, and Xander leaned back against the wall with this arms crossed. Jordan filled Xander in on the meeting with Patrick she apparently wasn’t supposed to have last night, according to Xander, and she gave him the written message from Patrick.

They discussed their thoughts about assassinating General Morgan, and both agreed that Morgan’s assassination would be Jordan’s next mission.

Xander seemed galvanized when she told him Patrick would be able to contact Rock. “After he makes contact, let me know. It sounds like you’ve got everything under control.” He looked over at Shane. “You’re going to have to teach Shane how to use a gun. We’re having an in-service on shooting at the meeting tonight, but you’ll have to do it with him one-on-one for the time being.”

Shane whipped his head around to meet Jordan’s gaze. “You have guns?”

Xander nodded. “Only about twenty-five so far, but if you’re protecting Jordan I’m going to have to insist you have one during the meets.”

“No problem.”

Xander put his finger up to signal him to wait a minute and touched his earbud. “Yeah? When? Did you see it? This will be good for us in the long run. We’re working on contacts outside of Amber so if we need internet we can probably use one of them. Alright.”

Before Xander even had a chance to fill her in on the call, Jordan said, “I forgot to tell you, I gave Patrick digital footage of the massacre last night.”

Xander smiled. “He posted it on the net. People outside the Amber Zone are making comments and asking questions. Nice job, Jordan. He put an arm around her shoulder “So…you’re sure you’re doin’ okay?” His voice was soft.

“Yeah. Shane spent the night with me. So far, dealing with this has been easier than I expected. With everything that’s going on, my mind has been on other things.”

Xander looked to Shane. “Are you staying again tonight?”

“Yeah. I’d planned to.”

Xander nodded. “Good.”

“I’ll send someone over with a gun for him. Teach him to shoot before you leave for the meet,” he said, facing Jordan. “I need to get going. I have a lot of stops today. I’ll want to be briefed tomorrow on how things go tonight.” Xander looked over at the woman he’d brought with him. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard, sweetie.” Then he motioned to Shane. “Come on, I want to talk to you.” Shane followed Xander down the crowded hallway and caught up to him in the elevator, but the ride to the ground floor was silent.

When they were out of the building and standing off to the side in the courtyard, Xander finally spoke. “I want to make this perfectly clear so you can make informed decisions and act accordingly.”

Shane nodded and studied the man standing in front of him. He was grim-faced and carried an air of intimidating authority. “First, every member of the Amber Resistance believes we’re fighting for the freedom so many soldiers before us have given their lives to protect. We’re all willing to give our life for our beliefs. This is going to turn very ugly, very fast. So if you’re just hanging around with Jordan to get your dick wet, I’d take a moment to reconsider your plan. Second point.” He held two fingers out in front of him. “You are subordinate to Jordan. Outside resistance business you can behave as you wish, but when it comes to making decisions and following orders, she is the general, you are the grunt. Do you have a problem with that?”

Shane glared at the man standing in his personal space. Because of the class they’d both taken, Xander knew he was a dominant, knew he’d have difficulty giving up control. “No. I’ll respect her authority.”

Xander nodded. “Point number three, and this is the most important one so listen closely. If you or your brother are spying for the Gov, I’m giving you the opportunity to walk away, right now, no questions asked. Later, if I find out you’re really not on our side, I will kill the both of you.” Shane watched a muscle work in the Xander’s jaw before he spoke again. “It would be easy enough. Patrick’s a sitting duck in that bright fishbowl every night. And if Jordan gets hurt because you’re a traitor,” Xander growled “I’ll kill your fucking parents too.” He leaned in toward Shane until they were in each other’s face. “Are we clear?”

Shane nodded once and then gritted between his teeth, “Crystal.”

He didn’t like the insinuations and was not accustomed to being treated as if he were under the authority of any man. But Xander, he’d indulge. They were similar, running neck and neck on the dominant-male scale.

“Good. You’re her shadow until she or I says differently. Keep her alive.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine during the meets with both me and my brother watching out for her.”

Xander nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He walked away from Shane without another word. The man was a force to be reckoned with, but needed help with his people skills because now, after the threats, Shane was pissed off.