Finding Grace Page 7

  * * * *

  Goddamnit. The tree was supposed to just break her fall, not snare her. She was stuck like a bunny in a hedge. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t seem to stop the waves of panic rolling through her. Then she felt Jack’s powerful grip around one of her wrists, then the other. He lifted her up like she weighed about as much as a rabbit. She grunted when her left side hit the window frame, the wave of pain reminding her that she was being pulled back into the wolves’ den. She struggled until her feet hit the floor and he surprised her by letting her go. She went for the door, but Paul was blocking it. There was nowhere to go. Trapped and helpless, she slid down into the corner, hugged her legs and concentrated on breathing, on silencing the roar in her ears.

  She barely heard Paul’s voice. “Easy now. It’s okay, Thorne. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. None of us would ever hurt you.”

  Her breath still choppy and hoarse even for her, she watched him standing in the doorway. “Liar.” She breathed in through her nose. “I saw it in your eyes. You were going to tell them because you were angry and you don’t believe me and you don’t trust me. Because you think I’m fucked up.” He’d intended to tear away the only layer of protection she’d had all these years and he didn’t think that would hurt her?

  She saw his right eye twitch, but he ignored her words and said, “Hawks called. The tent they were in was blown to bits by an IED eleven minutes after Dagger called them.” He pushed himself off the door jamb and took a step toward her. “How did you know, Thorne?”

  What he was looking for, she couldn’t give him. “You know how I knew. You all know how I knew. You just don’t want to believe it.” She paused to catch another breath and pushed herself up using the walls, her shaky legs barely holding her. “I can’t trust you if you don’t trust me, boss. This whole thing was a bad idea. Tell Captain America I appreciate—”

  The deep rumble of Jack’s voice stopped her. “So what if he didn’t believe you? Give him a break. Paul wasn’t here, he didn’t see it. If I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have believed it, either. But I was, and I did, and two good men are still alive. You’re crazier than you look if you think we’re gonna let you go now.” He crossed his arms like he had the last word, the arrogant bastard.

  A strong gust of wind drove a sling of ice pellets through the broken window.

  “Farley, why don’t you go down in the basement and find something to cover this up until I can get someone in to fix it. Oh, and see what’s left of that chair on the sidewalk, will you? I need to contact the local CO over there and set up an extraction. Then I’m calling FedCo.” Paul turned back to the door.

  That was it? That was all he was going to say? Another arrogant bastard.

  He stopped and turned to face the room again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, Thorne. And I’m glad Dagger listened to you.” He smiled at Jack but barely looked at her when he added, “He’s right, we want you to stay. Go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off. We’ll see you Monday.” He turned and paused in the doorway. Without looking back, he said, “Or better yet, join us at O’Leary’s as soon as I’m done here. Drinks on me.”

  He waited, not moving, his back still toward her. The big chicken. She knew guilt when she saw it and an apology when she heard one, half-assed though it was. Still, she couldn’t. It was too much for him to ask.

  “Sorry, I’ve had enough excitement today, this week, whatever. But I’ll see you on Monday.” She tried to sound cool.

  He finally turned around and made an obvious effort to smile. “Sure. Oh, and you’d better be wearing a real winter jacket next time I see you.”

  “Yes, boss.” She threw him a sarcastic salute. Buzz den-mother Lightyear wasn’t fooling her. He still didn’t believe her.

  But Jack had. She didn’t care about Paul, not really. As long as he didn’t tell. He owed her that much after today. She wouldn’t have to worry about that any more.

  She turned when Jack touched her shoulder and said, “Lemme give you a ride.”

  * * * *

  Paul hung up the phone. His men were safe and on their way back. The scum-sucking merc bastards had been arrested and were awaiting extradition. He’d had an interesting talk with the CEO at FedCo about his silent partner. He was going down, too.

  He rested his head in his hands, the memory he now had time for weighing it down. He’d been afraid, he could admit that. He’d thought she’d endangered his men with her vision nonsense. But it was himself he’d been furious with, for hiring her in the first place. He’d never forget the look on her face, though, how scared she’d been. Then she’d jumped through a fucking window because she’d somehow known he was going to tell her secret. He would have, too; he’d been that angry. He’d wanted to drive her away.

  Never mind that she’d been right. Never mind how she’d known. Never mind she’d saved the lives of two of his men.

  Or that she’d forgiven him. Oh, he wasn’t fooled. It was Dagger who’d salvaged her fragile trust, not him. He almost laughed. He’d been so worried about Dagger fucking up and scaring her. Instead it had been him. He had an inkling now what Luke had felt like after locking her up in jail.

  He went to find Farley. It was definitely time for a drink. Dagger could meet them at O’Leary’s.

  * * * *

  “It’s not you, Thorne. It’s the vision thing. He just can’t buy it. You gotta admit—” Dagger hit the brakes and swore softly before changing lanes “—it’s pretty damn weird.”

  He glanced over at his passenger. There were bits of twigs and old leaves clinging to the short thick mass of purple hair. “So what the hell was that with the window? You didn’t really think we were going to hurt you, did you?” Then he remembered what Thorne had said. “Wait, what could Paul have possibly told us that would have made you want to…” Dagger’s brow furrowed. “Just what are you hiding, Thorne? It can’t be that bad, right?”

  In the silence that followed, he thought of some of the things he’d done, things he’d been commended for but could never be proud of. Finally he said, “Pulling shit like that doesn’t make you look any less crazy, you know.”

  “Who says I’m not crazy?” Thorne flashed his crooked smile.

  They stopped at a red light and some poor joker wearing a princess costume—complete with a tiara and a gray beard—was jumping up and down, yelling something about the end of the world.

  Thorne looked out the window and said, “Could be worse, Jack.”

  Dagger grunted. He was still wondering what Paul had been going to say, if and whether the kid had even been right about that, and what kind of secrets someone like Thorne might have. The extent of the panic had been extreme. It had to be something pretty bad.

  Before his train of thought could go any further, and almost as if Thorne had known its direction and wanted to derail it, he said, “Jack, would you mind stopping at Tron’s? We drive right by it. I’d like some takeout.”

  He shrugged. “Sure. I know the place. Great Vietnamese for cheap, no place to park. Get me some Bo Sate, will ya? Never did get lunch, thanks to you.” He couldn’t help smiling when he said it, though.

  He dropped Thorne off and circled the block, glad to have a few minutes to himself, but all he could think about was food.

  When Thorne climbed back in the SUV, Dagger noticed a third bag. “Who’s that one for?”

  Thorne looked up and down the street and Dagger sighed. “Shit, don’t tell me. That homeless guy, right?”

  “Yeah, if we can find him.”

  They found Jefferson a couple of blocks away from the spot he’d occupied yesterday. Dagger parked the SUV and joined them. He thought the old guy’s face would break with the smile he gave Thorne when he saw the food. At least Tron’s was worth a smile like that, not like a godawful granola bar. Then he noticed the nice leather jacket the old man was wearing under his raincoat.

  Before he could say something, Jef
ferson, who’d been looking him up and down with a critical eye, said, “He your special friend, Thorne?”

  Thorne laughed and Dagger decided he liked the warm rough sound of it. “What makes you think that? He is kinda cute, though.”

  It was Jefferson’s turn to laugh. His was a full-out belly laugh. “He don’ look like your type, Thorne.”

  The kid had a huge shit-eating grin. “Oh yeah, Jefferson? What’s my type?”

  Dagger braced himself. He really didn’t want to hear this shit.

  “Well, he don’ look nothin’ like me, now does he?”

  It felt good to laugh. Dagger had forgotten how much.

  When they arrived at Thorne’s door, he reached for his wallet. “Say, almost forgot to pay you for the food.”

  “Keep it, Jack. Least I can do for these rides. I appreciate them, but I can take care of myself, you know.”

  “Really? Because it looks to me like you’re too busy taking care of someone else. That nice leather jacket Jefferson’s wearing—you gave it to him, didn’t you?”

  Thorne shrugged. “Look at this piece of shit. He was freezing and there was no way in hell he would let me just give him a new one. He’s funny that way. He’ll take socks and food, but he was hung up on the jacket thing. So I offered to trade him and he accepted.”

  Dagger just shook his head.

  Thorne’s little chin came up. “Quit looking at me like that. Replacing it hasn’t been a priority, and I’m kinda worried he’ll be insulted if I do. Hey, I’m from the north country, remember? You’re as bad as Paul. Here I thought I was gonna get to work with a bunch of macho security guys and it turns out to be the fucking Campfire Girls.”

  “Uh, Thorne, you better be in the office Monday morning. You’ll be sorry if I have to come and get you.”

  “I don’t know, Jack, you make it sound kinda fun.” Thorne flashed him that crooked smile again before shrugging and looking away, as though he was embarrassed by what he’d just said. “No need to worry, I’ll be there. It’s just starting to get interesting.”

  Dagger stood in the dingy hall and watched Thorne step into his apartment with the bag of takeout. He waited until he heard the door lock before taking his time down the rickety stairs.

  Goddamn kid was gonna drive them all to the funny farm, and Dagger was sure to be leading the caravan.

  Chapter Seven

  “You boys get the sand out of your boots already?” Dagger looked up from his desk in the big office and nodded to Hawks and Markham. “Glad to have you back.”

  “Glad to be back,” Hawks said.

  “Thanks to you,” Markham said.

  “Can’t take the credit, much as I’d like to. I was just the messenger. It was, ah, Thorne.”

  “Huh?” Hawks and Markham said together.

  “Thorn?” Markham asked.

  Shit, Paul hadn’t told them.

  “And that, boys, is the million dollar question.” Farley smiled like a cat with the canary still in his mouth.

  Dagger shot him a look. “Thorne’s a new hire, just started last week. Whizz bang hacker, besides—”

  “Being a psychic and a freakin’—”

  “You wanna keep those pearly whites, Farley?” Dagger turned back to the new arrivals. “He found something in the FedCo file. Paul and I told him it was nothing, but he wouldn’t let it go. Then that morning he had…I dunno…a vision, I guess. Said you were in trouble. Got ahold of some satellite and showed me, or I gotta tell you, I wouldn’t have believed him.”

  Paul stuck his head in. Sure, now that Dagger had said more to these men in five minutes than he’d said in an entire week before he’d met Thorne.

  “It’s good to see you boys.”

  They nodded to Paul.

  “Don’t let him sell himself short. I still don’t know what to think about all this myself, but I can’t tell you how glad I am that Dagger here followed through on Thorne’s, uh, information.”

  He ducked back out and left Dagger with the two men staring at him and Farley grinning like an idiot. What the hell was up with Paul, anyway?

  “So, uh, when do we get to meet this wizard?” Markham said.

  “He’s more like one of the little people than a wizard.” Farley winked.

  Dagger decided to let him have this one.

  “‘Little people’? You mean like a leprechaun, or like a midget?”

  Poor Markham, such an easy mark. Hawks was young too, but he played it closer to the vest. Dagger waited on Farley’s response.

  “More like a fairy.” Farley cracked up.

  Dagger just sighed. “C’mon then, I’ll introduce you.”

  They walked up the hall and Markham said, “What’s up with the closed door? Never had any closed doors around here before. What’s the deal?” Dagger thought he looked nervous.

  “Thorne likes the door closed, which works out real well on account of the music being so loud,” Dagger said.

  “That’s what you call that noise? Coulda fooled me.” Hawks grimaced. “Sounds like the shit you listen to.”

  “Some of it is. Plays all kinds. You can never be too sure what’s gonna come out of there.” Oh, they had no idea how true that was.

  He pounded on the door and the music dropped enough for them all to hear, “Am I the only one who works around here? Leave me the fuck alone!” before the volume returned to its previous decibels.

  Dagger opened the door anyway and three of them were treated to a profile of nimble fingers flying, knitting needles flashing, and a ball of yarn rolling toward them while Thorne’s purple head nodded to the throbbing beat of the music and stared at the monitors.

  Markham actually took a step back when Thorne scowled up at them.

  “Give me an hour,” was all he said before cranking the volume up even higher.

  “What the fuck?” Hawks and Markham said as they exchanged glances en route back to the big office.

  Farley, still seated at a desk, laughed. “Unsociable, belligerent little fucker, isn’t he?”

  “And you’re sure he’s a he?” Markham didn’t look too sure.

  “Near as we can tell.” Farley shrugged.

  “Hey, what happened to the window, anyway?” It was Hawks this time. “And that chair looks like it got shot out of a cannon.”

  Farley started to open his mouth, but Dagger gave him a look that closed it. There was only so much crazy those two would be able to accept, and he figured they’d already reached their limit.

  “Just, ah, a little misunderstanding, is all, boys. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little heads about.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Thorne was standing in the doorway to the big office, carrying her soldering supplies and wearing her new-to-her, freshly-snowed parka. The guys with Jack had been the ones from the vision and she couldn’t help herself.

  She shrugged off the snow and the hood and started talking as though they weren’t all staring at her. “I stepped out for a minute, needed some stuff.” They just kept staring. “Hey, don’t you look at me like that. What, with the way you guys sneak around I can’t use a little subterfuge? I’m ready to tie bells around your fucking necks before you give me a heart attack.” She’d been toying with something a little more sophisticated, actually, but she wasn’t going to tell them that.

  She hesitated, torn between bonding and bolting, before she set the box down in the hall and stepped in.

  “You must be Markham and Hawks. Which one is which? No wait, lemme guess.” She put her hand to her chin like she was deep in thought. “It’s beyond my ability; you two have been together so long your names should be hyphenated.”

  Farley chuckled. “Psychic, just like I said.”

  “Markham. Thanks for saving my ass, Thorne.” He stood up out and reached for her hand. She grasped it hard.

  “Hawks. Thanks, Thorne.”

  The other man nodded and said it with his arms folded. Great, another tight-ass GI Joe.

/>   “How’d you know? Have you always been psychic? Can you, like, read minds and stuff?”

  Aw, this Markham was kind of cute.

  She shifted and let her breath out slow. Now was as good a time as any. “No, I can’t read minds. Intentions are pretty easy to pick up on, though. Usually, the visions or whatever you want to call them come out of nowhere. Sometimes I can find when I seek. I don’t usually get much about me.” She tried and failed to keep her jaw from tensing. “It started a few years go.”

  Jack nodded like he remembered she’d said it before. She should be more careful. Wait, she had just the distraction.

  She smiled and looked at Hawks. “So, did you get to play those three kings, or did you two have to pack up before the hand played?”

  The way GI Joe suddenly looked like he’d just seen an entire battalion of ghosts was priceless. The other three saw it, too.

  With that sweet taste in her mouth, she said, “Say, would you guys need to lug that comm unit around if your satellite phone encryption was more secure? It would have saved time if I could have called you myself.”

  “I wasn’t aware that level of encryption was available in a satellite phone,” Paul said from just inside the door. Thorne wondered briefly if she shouldn’t work on those proximity neck bells first.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that supposed to be a challenge, boss?”

  He avoided her eyes when she looked at him, so she just picked up her box and headed for her office. Fine, she didn’t have anything more to say to him, either. He’d noticed her parka and probably thought she’d worn it to make him happy after he’d practically ordered her to replace Jefferson’s. She was so tempted to pop his big-Buzz bubble by informing him that she’d gotten it because of what Jack had said about her not taking care of herself, but she didn’t think it was a good idea to admit that Jack had that kind of power over her either. Not out loud, anyway.

  * * * *