Chapter Two
Mila
My eyes open slowly after the downstairs' door bangs open loudly, announcing the arrival of the home's grumpy owner. Most young adults probably would not choose to spend their summer vacations at the home of such a prickly person, but I did. The minute my planning fell into place, I took the opportunity to leave home and travel across the country. My lips curve in a smile, and I really can't help the excitement swirling in my chest. He's here.
I sit up in the bed I decided to crash on when I got here late last night and listen as he makes his way around his living space. I hear clicking and the light hum of a computer starting up. When I looked in that area last night, I didn't see anything to suggest it was a work station. My smile grows a little bigger, just thinking about how well it must have been hidden. There is no way I will ever believe that Reed isn't a genius. He's smart, capable, protective, and he wears his darkness like a fine suit. Those are the reasons I became intrigued by him. That is why I lied to my family and managed to get Rogue's target tracker off of me, effectively erasing myself off Rogue's locator map, the main tracking system for all our safe houses and targets. It's mostly used so if a target goes missing, we can find them right away. Not that it was an easy feat. I spent hours white-knuckling the pain of taking the little device out of the back of my neck, using only my knife and some towels. A necessary move in order to avoid being found right away and to find Reed and tell him all the reasons he was wrong about not being able to love me.
"I'm not capable of love, Mila. I don't even care for anyone really. I've been nice to you, but I'm not capable of being a caretaker. If you came with me, you'd be leaving behind all the people who do love you," Reed argues with me. His face keeps closing off, but I don't believe him. My gut is telling me something different.
"You've never loved anyone, Reed. How do you know you aren't capable?" I shake my head at him. "I think you're just scared because you believe it but I don't."
"I think the fact that you have that thought just proves my point. You don't really know me, Mila. Only what I've let you see. This is as close to a friendship as I can have with anyone." His pauses a second, looking like he wants to escape the room, and I quirk my brow at him.
"For the rest of your life, you'll never let anyone close? Just live on your own until you die or sacrifice yourself in what, the name of Rogue?"
"I'm not a slave for Rogue. But I owe Matt more than anyone." Reed's jaw clenches.
"You love Matt like a friend or a father," I whisper.
Reed shakes his head. "I don't know how to love, Mila. I just know I might be an entirely different person if I hadn't listened to him."
"And what kind of person would you be if you try to love me?"
"Weak."
My eyes close against the memory because, whenever I remember it, my chest still feels both painful and hollow. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. That is the only time I've truly let myself become vulnerable with anyone in years. I let Reed see who I really am and he turned me down.
Ever since the night my mom, my sister Saylor and I were attacked in our New York home, my life has taken a dark turn. It was five years ago, but I can still vividly remember how fast my heart was beating in my rib cage when I woke up to the men's voices from downstairs. I can still hear the fierceness in my mom's voice when she wouldn't give in to their demands, as well as the conviction in her tone when she repeatedly told them she was the only person at home. Sweat built on my hairline as I snuck down the hallway to Saylor's bedroom to wake her up. I was barely a teenager at the time, and with all the threats we had been receiving because of my father's scheming, I was scared and needed my older sister to make everything alright again. Saylor is a protector. Even though she tried her hardest that night, pushing me to the floor and crowding me under her bed, covering my head and my ears, I still heard what those men did to my mom. I saw the evidence when we went to help her, thinking the men had finally left.
It could have been the shock, or it could have been my own form of revenge, but when one of the men had his hands around Saylor's neck, I didn't care that he had a weapon; I couldn't feel anything as I swung that bat down on his head and his back until he was a limp and bloody mess on our kitchen floor. That was the night that changed me emotionally. That was also the night that I was brought to Rogue.
A flashing red light appears in the darkness of the room and I want to laugh because I know what Reed is about to discover. I slip out of the bed and fix my summer dress that is all twisted around my legs. After running a hand over my now short, chestnut-brown hair, I make my way to the bedroom door, opening it and walking out into the hallway and down the stairs. Reed's back goes rigid when the stairs groan under my feet. He must feel my presence because his fingers grip the station that his laptop is on and I can sense the battle he's waging with himself right now. Even if Reed is mad, he's also impressed that I managed to, not only find the little tracker he put on me, but also the fact that I used it to find him. Reed thinks he escaped me, but he's about to learn our souls are more synchronized than he thought.
"This little thing belongs to you, doesn't it?" I hold out the micro-sized device between my thumb and pointer finger. If I had been anyone else, there is no way I would have found it. I hadn't minded my original tracker that was given to me by Rogue. It made sense to have it and most of their members and workers have them in case of emergencies anyway. Reed's tracker, however, was a different story. I more than minded that he was continuing to track me, even after he obliterated my heart then became a ghost in the Rogue world. I hadn't talked to him or seen him in months, yet he somehow thought he had the right to keep me essentially chipped, like a pet, after he specifically told me he could never have feelings for me.
Reed turns around and all the air is sucked out of the room while his light eyes quickly take in every part of my body, checking for injury. I feel like I can't breathe when I see his mask shift in front of my eyes. It's small, just a flutter of his eyelashes, and I can tell it's taken him years to train himself, so people won't notice the shift in his character. I doubt Ciaran, Kai, Silas or even my sister has seen it before. Maybe Matt, but that's only because I think Matt is the one person Reed has confided in since he became a Rogue target when he was a toddler. I wouldn't have ever noticed it if I wasn't obsessed with him.
He arches his brow. "Does your family know you've been lying about your chair?"
My shoulders shrug, and the strap on my dress falls down my shoulder, as I move farther into the room, shrinking the distance between us. "I've done what I needed to do to protect them." I tilt my head and watch his nostrils flare.
I need to stay focused this time and not let him deter me from my end goal. Even though his words hurt, I can't let him know it. The fact that I've been lying to my family and friends for over a year about having my mobility back and being able to walk is beyond wrong, but it's the only way I was able to stay under the radar, appearing fragile enough for them to leave me alone while I studied and learned every one of Reed's tricks and memorized all the ins-and-outs of Rogue. After being shot three times, my prognosis wasn't great. Doctors told my mom I would likely never walk again. She and her husband, my sister's dad, bought me the most up-to-date wheelchair and renovated their new home, so I could live independently. So yes, I do feel bad lying to them, but if they knew that my real purpose in life was to be with Reed, keeping Rogue safe just like him, they would have stopped me, or worse, they might have tried making me go to therapy again or taking the medications they thought were helping me, but only made me feel half-alive.
I take another step and watch as Reed's eyes dart to the floor then back to my face. "Just like you were doing, right? With this little guy right here? Protecting me, right?" I hold up the tracker again, still amazed at the size of it, probably half the size of a grain of rice. Amazed isn't even the right word for what I feel. In awe, maybe. Everything Reed does fascinates me. It's the root of my obsession for him.
"You could have been in danger." He shakes his head, and I think I've unnerved him again.
"But I'm never in danger, right Reed? Because I have you. Even when you pretend you don't want me or that you aren't good for me." I inch closer. He takes a deep breath, and it looks like he's holding it.
Step.
Step.
"I laid awake every night after you left, trying to figure out how you always knew my every move or somehow could guess what my inner thoughts were before I even talked to you."
"You---"
"Talk to myself, I know." I nod my head. It took me awhile to realize how small and insignificant that information sounded. The day before I told Reed how I felt about him and that I wanted to leave with him, I rehearsed in my mirror for hours the best way to approach the subject. I sounded clingy and desperate in my head, so I tried practicing saying it out loud. I wanted him to know how much thought I'd put into this plan over the past few years. I knew who Reed really was and what he was doing for Rogue. I'd known it since the first summer I was reunited with my mom and sister and met Reed at the cabins. It was the same summer Rogue almost lost everything because of what my father had set in motion.
"Once I started piecing those things together, it didn't take long to assume there was a wire, camera or something that you planted on me. I'm not really interested in the how of it though, Reed, what I want to know is why?"
Reed's lashes dip the barest amount and his index finger twitches. I want to smile, but I don't dare. "You were the most vulnerable."
I hear the lie roll off his tongue, the same cadence used as when he told me he liked mushrooms after I had put them in a lasagna I made. Reed actually hates mushrooms and only I know it. I nod my head, my face tilting up. "Because I'm so weak?"
Reed's body vibrates, as if it's almost painful for him to lie to me. Up until the fateful day I told him my feelings, Reed had never lied to me. No matter the situation or the pain it would cause, he did not hide things from me. I thought we were at least friends. With everything I had been through, from taking a life to almost losing mine again, Reed seemed to understand me. He never treated my trauma with kid-gloves like my mom, Saylor and the guys did. He never made me feel like I was broken. It was because of his attention and the real way he talked to me that I developed feelings for him. Seeing Reed and talking with him became the thing that made me feel alive. Even as I watch him struggle to dip his head, breaking our eye contact, as if he's delivering a huge blow to my heart, he still can't make himself utter the words.
"Fine," I snap, a little fiercer than I mean to. "Let's say you wanted to keep tabs because I'm more vulnerable, what is the need for your own personal tracker on me? You have access to my Rogue one at any time."
Reed's chest rises and falls and I watch, completely fascinated, as he shifts through his feelings, at the same time fighting so hard to look as if he isn't. "Mine is more efficient," he manages to grit out.
I scoff. "Then where is Saylor's? Or the guys'? I've looked and inspected every gap, crevice and hole in the house since I was always left alone while everyone else was off at Rogue or their jobs, because no one thought the girl in the wheelchair could really be that fucking dangerous."
His eyes light up. "I've never looked at your chair as a limitation. But since you asked, and since you're apparently a big kid now, using all adult words, I'll tell you. It's because they've been trained. I could back any one of them into a corner and they would at least have a fighting chance of getting away. You're young and you've never so much as made a sound about being part of Rogue."
The blood simmers in my veins and I have to force myself to swallow down my instinct to lash out. I know Reed. He's making excuses. For some reason, my age has always been an issue. Reed would always make comments about me being young. "I'm eighteen now. And I'm not that much younger than you or them. I could have been taught, but when I asked Ciaran why I hadn't, he gave me a weird look and said that you told him I wasn't interested."
For the first time since our argument started, Reed completely breaks character. His eyes drift to the side, and I'm graced with the presence of his cheek, his high cheekbone and the prominent edge of his jaw that clenches tightly as he swallows.
"I know you think you're protecting me. I understand that these extra precautions are meant to be a way for you to feel better about being away from me. But why, Reed? You looked me right in the eyes and said you didn't love me and that I couldn't come with you. Well, I found you. And now I know the truth about everything you've done." I push the limits a little further and take another step toward him, loving the way his hand twitches as I walk closer. "You might think you are empty or incapable of feeling anything, but I know the truth now, Reed. You care about me. You wouldn't have gone to all the extra trouble if you didn't."
Reed snaps his hand out, squeezing my jaw and my cheeks, halting any more words coming from my mouth. I hit a nerve. My body lights up from his touch, and even while his fingers are strong and biting into my skin, I can feel how much power he is holding back. "You know nothing. That is why I left. I am not the book-boyfriend you fantasize about; I'm the very real devil that is lurking in the shadows."
My cheeks heat from the intensity in which he is looking at me. "You're right. You are dangerous and lethal, everything a girl shouldn't want, but I see everything else you try so hard to hide. You protect Rogue with the skills you've developed. You've clearly been keeping tabs on me. You check in with Matt, even when you don't need to, and the neighbor boy across the street, you send him books because he's having difficulties adjusting to his parents' divorce. Yes, you are a killer, Reed, but you aren't exactly the heartless villain you make yourself out to be. And despite how you claim to have no feelings for me, I can tell you want me. Because I am just like you."
His eyes dip down to my lips before meeting mine again. I can feel in the grip he has on my face that his hand is shaking. It's light, barely a tremor, but it's there. A clear sign that I've unnerved him. I won't pretend to be sad or timid. Too much time has been wasted, pretending that we both don't know the truth. Reed has killed. I've killed. That doesn't stop me from wanting him. I lift my hand to push him back, but his solid body doesn't budge. My eyes widen right as his pupils expand, and Reed's lips drop to mine. With one hand around my jaw, he moves the other to cup the back of my head, preventing me from moving. Not that there is any other place I'd rather be than kissing Reed. Despite his hard exterior, Reeds lips are soft and firm as they move against mine, coaxing and exploring. I chase his taste, leaning into him, completely surrendering.
I lose myself in the way Reed kisses me. The way he takes possession of my mouth and dominates the action, as if I wasn't already aware that he had all the control to begin with. I love it. A thrill skates through my veins. My hand moves, and I grip Reed's wrist. The minute he feels the contact, he pulls away from me. "Reed…"
He doesn't speak as he walks past me and up the stairs. I listen, with my heart beating wildly in my chest, as his feet move across the floor, then a door slams. Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I knew going in this would be a difficult task. I wasn't going to accomplish my goal overnight, but I also wasn't going to leave until Reed admitted he loved me too.