Hard Beat

I use the back of my hand to wipe the tears away before they spill over as she runs her free hand up and down my arm. “I’m so sorry, Tanner. I don’t even know what… I’d tell you that it’s not your fault, but I know more than anyone those words are useless when you feel guilty anyway.”

“Yeah,” I agree, and turn to face her. “She promised me she’d never go out alone. It was one of the very few times she did…”

“And look what happened,” Beaux says, her eyes telling me she gets the correlation I’ve made between her and Stella, that every time she walks out without me knowing about it, I worry the same thing will happen to her.

We sit in silence, the temperature rising as the sun moves higher in the sky, and I come to terms with the fact that I feel better having told her about Stella and what happened and that maybe, just maybe, she’ll feel the same way and tell me her history someday.

Chapter 16

“T

his is Tanner Thomas reporting live for Worldwide News.”

I wait for the Skype connection to end like usual, make sure the feed is dark, before I shut down and close my laptop. I find myself staring at the world beyond as I take a deep breath, wondering where exactly Omid is in that mix. Is my number one source gone for good now that his face is on record? My texts to him saying the pictures have been destroyed have gone unanswered.

I just hope my relationship with him isn’t gone too.

“That went well,” Beaux says, pulling me from my thoughts so that I turn to watch her as she exits the bathroom, hair wet and robe knotted with a tie around her waist.

I snort. “Thanks. It’s the same boring shit, though,” I say, scrubbing a hand through my shaggy hair that’s starting to drive me crazy. “I’m here to report conflict, action, not repeat the same repetitive crap,” I groan to her. “I’m getting antsy. It’s been what, a little over two weeks since Sarge called and still nothing.”

“Lest you forget the Scrabble tournament. I mean that was scintillating entertainment,” she teases, drawing a chuckle from me over one of the lame ways we tried to pass time last week with an impromptu Scrabble challenge amongst all of the journalists. “Who knew qwerty was a legitimate and legal word?”

When I meet her eyes, I’ve got a lopsided smirk on my face over our first real fight over nothing. Every relationship has to have those, and the fact that we hit that milestone makes me feel a little more like we’re a normal couple despite this crazy-ass set of circumstances. There is supposed to be a war going on and it’s my job to report those events. And not having anything happening makes me feel useless, even though I don’t appreciate the evils of combat. Despite the company I get to keep nowadays, I’m feeling bored.

Although that company is definitely not a hardship to look at. I glance back as Beaux walks toward me and take her all in: ebony hair wet and falling over her shoulders making a dark mark on the fabric of her robe, her toned, tanned legs making me wish the thigh-length robe were even shorter, and the press of her nipples through the thin fabric.

“Nothing from Omid?” she asks as if she’s been reading my thoughts – and like it’s perfectly normal to be talking about sources when my libido is thinking about everything that’s beneath the light blue fabric of the robe.

“No.” I sigh loudly, my frustration audible. “Not from him or any of my other sources. It’s complete radio silence. I think that’s part of the problem. I know something is in the works. I agree with Sarge. Everyone is lying low, waiting to see who makes the first move. I know Omid knows something… That’s why he’s lost in the wind again. If only he would text me back, then I’d feel so much better knowing that there isn’t some huge meet going on that we’re going to miss, you know?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmurs as she walks up behind me, presses a kiss to the crown of my head, and runs her fingers through my hair, playing with it where it curls over the tops of my ears.

“That’s my story. I’ve been tracking it for months, worked my ass off to get the contacts to ensure that I’m there when it goes down, and now I feel like it’s going to slip through my fingers.”

“I understand why you think that… but you’re just antsy from being stuck in this damn hotel. Maybe you need to get out. Take a walk. It helps me when I do.”

I snort out a laugh. “Yeah, I know it helps when you take a walk,” I say sarcastically, aware that she’s probably rolling her eyes right now. But at the same time I know those solo walks of hers are nonexistent now since I’ve made a habit of being with her each and every night.

And being smothered never felt so damn good. Especially when it’s the weight of her body on top of mine.

“He’s probably just playing it safe. He seems totally loyal to you. I’m sure if there was something going on, he’d tell you about it.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, leaning my head back against the warmth of her belly, while part of me worries about Omid, hoping that he really is okay and nothing has happened to him. “I spoke with Rafe when you were in the shower. He reiterated what he said to you about how much the brass really loves the pictures you’re turning in.” For some reason I need her to know how incredible they are, especially after all of the shit I gave her in the beginning about not being good enough.

“Thank you,” she whispers softly as her fingers thread through my hair, nails scratching my scalp in the most hypnotizing of ways.