Chapter 27

I’ll admit, when Wilder suggested I use the motel pool to ease my aching muscles, I thought he’d lost his mind. But it turns out he knew what he was talking about.

Sure, I had to share it with a couple in their late-eighties and a few guys in their twenties who Crew kept side-eyeing, but it was exactly what I needed.

We had a pool onsite at the Division, but I didn’t get to use it half as much as I would have liked because it was mostly used for rehabilitation purposes.

By the time I get out, my legs feel like noodles but the throb in my pussy has dulled to a more manageable ache.

Wilder goes back to the room to walk Rufio, while Crew guards the door to the changing room so I can strip out of my wet bathing suit and climb under the warm spray of the shower. Happy I packed the suit at the last minute, I tip my head back and close my eyes as the warm water beats down over my body, soothing more of the aches from last night’s lovemaking.

I wash the chlorine out of my hair and use a strawberry-scented body wash to clean it from my skin. Once I’m done, I turn off the water and climb out, wrapping myself in a huge towel that brushes the tops of my feet.

A noise has me freezing before I slowly turn around. Nothing’s there, and I strain my ears, but I don’t hear anything else. With a sense of unease, I hurry to get dressed.

My still-damp skin makes getting dressed twice as hard, but eventually, I manage to maneuver myself into a pair of black leggings and a hoodie. Not wanting to waste time putting my sneakers on, I grab them in my free hand after shoving my towel and swimsuit into my bag. I hurry to the door, where I know Crew is waiting just outside.

I reach for the handle, almost convinced I’ve spooked myself, when a hand comes out of nowhere and covers my mouth, and I’m yanked back against a hard body.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I just need you to answer some questions for me,” the rough, unfamiliar voice says.

Fear is blanking my mind, making it almost impossible to think. When I kick out and my toes connect with the wall, the pain snaps me out of it. I wrap my gift around him like a blanket and gently push remorse into him.

He holds on, but I feel his aggressive stance loosen. When my breath hitches, I push empathy and panic into him. I’m turned around and pulled against his chest as the strange man tries to comfort me. Oddly bemused now that I have the upper hand, I pull back, happy he lets me. I frown when I stare up into the handsome but battered face of a man that’s vaguely familiar, though I’m sure we’ve never met.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Do Wilder and Crew know what you are?”

“How do you know Wilder and Crew?”

“I’m Apex.”

“No, you’re not. I’ve met everyone—” I suck in a sharp breath. “You’re in the photos at the house. Hendrix?”

His expression shutters before his jaw locks, and he shakes his head.

“Nash,” I whisper as I feel grief pouring out of him in a wave that threatens to drown us both.

I soothe him instinctively, smoothing out the jagged edges of his pain enough so that he can process it without it bringing him to his knees. He sucks in a ragged breath as I lift my hand and place it against his swollen cheek.

“We heard about the explosion. They haven’t given up hope, but they’ve been so worried about you both. Everyone has.”

I move to grab the door, but he stops me with his hand on my wrist.

“I can’t,” he grits out.

“I don’t understand. Can’t what? Crew’s right outside the door. Let him help you.”

“He can’t help me. Not yet anyway. But you can.”

“How? What happened? And where’s Hendrix?”

His pain crashes into me again, making me stagger back. I reach for it and draw some of it away until I feel like my flesh is being stripped from my bones. I shake my head, knowing what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Hendrix is dead.”

I cover my mouth with my hand. I might not have met the man, but I know his death is going to destroy all the Apex members and their families.

“We were compromised. I didn’t see it until it was too late. Hendrix was inside when the building blew. I had gone outside to—” He hesitates, his jaw tight, as he squeezes his hands into fists. “The blast threw me over a small stone wall, and it acted like a shield.”

His face pales. For a second, I worry he’s going to pass out, but he shakes the memory off and focuses back on me.

“I waited for the fire to burn out before searching for him. If anyone could have found a way to protect himself, it was Hendrix, you know? But there was nothing there. The fire burned too hot. It incinerated everything, leaving nothing behind but ash.”

Barely refraining from throwing up, I look into his desolate eyes as his mind drifts between then and now.

“The fire… It was too hot and burned too fast. I can’t explain it. I just know it wasn’t right. It just felt… wrong.” He gets frustrated, unable to explain it to me better, but ice starts forming in my veins at his words.

He must see something in my eyes because he nods solemnly. “Someone started that fire, did something to feed it until it was a ball of chaos and energy that exploded.”

“You’re not talking about an arsonist, are you?”

He shakes his head.

“You think a pyrokinetic started it,” I whisper, my mind flashing back to a teenage boy I once knew. He had been fourteen, five years older than me, when he’d come to the Division. He’d been so fucking angry that being around him was almost painful. I’d tried to help him, but his anger was like his gift—a flame that never truly went out. I was able to dampen his rage for a while, but my gift was weaker back then. Eventually, his rage burned out of control. He’d been at the Division for six weeks before he disappeared. There was no panic over the missing child, so I assumed he’d been moved because of the damage he caused.

It looks like the Division found a way to take that hostile boy and use his anger to forge him into a formidable weapon.

“You know someone,” he states.

“I knew someone a long time ago. His name was Jimmy. I don’t know his last name. I’m sorry.” I frown as I remember something else. “There was only one person he cared about, and that was his sister, Kate.”

Nash freezes, not a single muscle moving. His breathing saws in and out of him like he can’t get enough air. I thrust a wave of calm at him and see him relax a fraction.

“Was she gifted?” he asks through gritted teeth.

I nod slowly. “She was younger than him by three years. I can’t remember the technical term for her gift, but they called her a siren. There was something about her that was alluring to men, and some women too. It was disturbing because she was only a child at the time, and it was obvious it was uncomfortable for her. Everyone wanted to talk to her and touch her. She left with Jimmy, and not because family means anything to the Division but because Kate acted as a sort of anchor to him. She was the only one who could rein him in. But even at nine, I knew it wouldn’t last. It was like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet hole. Jimmy was destined to self-destruct and probably take his sister down with him.”

“I think she had more control than you realized. Either that, or she grew into it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Hendrix and I have been seeing a woman named Kate. She arranged for us to meet her brother on the day of the explosion. She was the reason I was outside instead of in the house with Hendrix. I’d gone after her because we’d argued. Only when I reached her, she was crying. She said she was sorry, that they were just following orders. That’s when the house exploded, and I was knocked unconscious. By the time I came around, she was gone.”

“Oh my God, Nash, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No. We’d been seeing Kate for almost a year. We just had no idea she was gifted, but it’s obvious now she was a plant.”

“A sleeper agent,” I murmur.

“What?”

“I’ve heard whispers that the Division works in similar ways to a terrorist organization. They have sleepers in place all over the world, working regular jobs, living in regular houses. Some have partners and families. But once activated, they do whatever they were ordered to do. Even if that means sacrificing themselves, though knowing the Division, they’d only do that as a last resort.” Nobody wanted to lose valuable operatives if possible.

“We met her just after we got Oz and Zig back, when Salem came into our lives.”

“And they triggered her and activated her brother because I defected.” I swallow the bile in my throat.

“I told you; this isn’t your fault. This is on me. I should have seen through her, should have figured it out somehow. If I had, Hendrix might still be alive.”

“No. If it’s not my fault, then it’s not yours either. Let’s put the blame where it deserves, on the Division.”

He drops his head, his shoulders heavy, as he takes my words and brushes them away. It’s still too fresh for him to feel anything other than guilt.

“I have to go. Don’t tell the others you saw me.”

“I have to tell them. They’re worried sick.”

“You can’t. Not until I know for sure that we weren’t sold out.”

“Apex would never do that to you!” I say defensively.

“Once upon a time, I believed that too. But then Cooper betrayed us.”

I shut my mouth. I knew who Cooper was and knew what he’d done, but my history with the man was different from theirs. To them, he was the teammate, friend, and brother who turned on them. In actuality, Cooper was part of the Division. The fact that he was able to feel those bonds was a miracle when most of his humanity had been hammered out of him. It was because of them that he met his wife, a woman he loved so much he blew his cover for her and sold out the very people he came to care about.

The last few times I’d seen Cooper, he had been a shell of himself. I think part of him had died with his wife’s terminal cancer diagnosis.

“I’m really good at reading people’s emotions if I let myself,” I admit. “I’m telling you this because I’d trust everyone at Apex with my life, or I never would have left my kids there.”

He considers my words before his voice cracks. “I hope to God you’re right, but I have to be sure. Until then, I need you to promise me you’ll stay quiet.”

I don’t want to lie to anyone, not when I know how worried they are.

“Have you told them what you can do?”

“They saw me save Bella when she fell from the playset you guys bought for the kids. They know.”

He crowds closer to me. “I’m not talking about your telekinesis. I’m talking about the empathic gift you got from your daddy.”

Everything in me revolts at the fact that he knows. “How is that possible? Nobody knows that, not even my father,” I whisper, feeling myself start to shake.

“It’s genetic isn’t it? Still I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until you started using it on me.”

A tear runs down my face as my cheeks burn with shame.

He swipes the tear with his thumb, his expression tight. “You didn’t hurt me. You helped me. I know that because I can breathe without it feeling like I’m inhaling shards of glass, and that’s all I’ve felt since Hendrix died. But you could hurt me if you wanted to, couldn’t you?” he asks me softly, tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear.

“I would never hurt anyone unless they were hurting me or someone I care about.”

“But you could.”

Giving in, I nod.

“You kept it a secret from the Division? Not even your father knows?”

I shake my head. “I’ll never let them turn me into a weapon. I won’t become what he is.”

He cocks his head, considering me. “You’re right. You’re nothing like him. You keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours. I have a feeling that the fate of all of us might rest in your hands.”

I stumble back when he lets me go and disappears around the side of the lockers. By the time I right myself and follow him, he’s gone. The only sign he was here at all is the open window.

I turn and head back to the door, swallowing around the boulder-sized lump in my throat. When the door opens, I jump a foot in the air.

Crew looks at me and smirks. “Jumpy little thing.” His expression turns serious when he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just feeling a bit off, plus I have a headache.”

“You’re not coming down with something, are you?” He walks closer and places the back of his hand against my forehead.

“I’m probably just tired. It’s been a rough few days, plus I miss the kids, you know?” I stick as much to the truth as I can because lying to them makes me feel like shit. It’s bad enough that I’m hiding my true gift from them. If they find out I know about Nash and Hendrix, they’ll never forgive me.