Page 23 of The Woman Left Behind

They all said yes, even Voodoo, which surprised the hell out of her. He barely glanced at her as he muttered a brief, “Sure,” but it wasn’t as if she wanted to have a conversation with him, so she was okay with that. She checked off his name.

“Are you bringing a date?”

“Probably not.”

Big surprise there. She wondered how hard up a woman would have to be to go out with someone that surly. Still, she wasn’t going to play favorites and not invite him. He was part of the team.

She left Levi for last. She hated being a coward about it, but she had to gear herself up for any encounter with him. He was too everything that made her uncomfortable: too grim, too intense, too big, too... justtoo.And he made her feel insignificant, nervous, jumpy, insecure—all the things she wasn’t. No, she had to be honest with herself: he didn’tmakeher feel that way, it was something in herself that was susceptible to whatever it was about him. Her weakness, her problem.

Finally she ran out of time and couldn’t put it off any longer; everything was set up, the other guys were all coming, so he’d likely already heard about it and might be wondering why she hadn’t invited him, kind of the way she felt about not being included intheirsocial things. Uh-huh, right; the day Levi Butcher worried about his popularity, or lack of it, would be the official end of the world. She was just trying to psyche herself up by imagining him with feelings.

Finding the opportunity was more difficult than she’d thought. She didn’t want to ask him in front of everyone else, because what if he said no? He wouldn’t, of course, but if he did they might all rethink their acceptance of her invitation. Even worse, she might do something embarrassing, like blushing. Maybe she could just text him, because everyone on the team had everyone else’s phone numbers.

Because she really, really wanted to go the text route, she mentally snarled at herself for being a coward. She had to just do it, regardless of the circumstances. The next time she saw him, she’d suck it up and do it.

“The next time” turned out to be as she was leaving a session of drone training. He was coming out of a room that she knew housed the evil demons who devised the training scenarios for the drone operators; Levi had likely been giving them ideas on how to trip her up. Swiftly she ran through this last session, trying to see any mistakes she’d made. The mission had been accomplished and all operators were home safe, but she couldn’t give herself any pats on the back because she could have handled the drone more smoothly. There was always something; no session was ever perfect.

Levi gave her a cursory glance as if registering her existence but nothing more and turned in the opposite direction.

Mentally girding her loins—though what the hell was “girding,” and weren’t there more important body parts that needed protecting?—she called, “Levi, wait up!” Clutching her clipboard with its all-important lists, she trotted down the hallway toward him.

He turned, planted his booted feet apart, crossed his arms, and with hooded eyes watched her approach.

Jina clutched her clipboard as if it were a dependable barrier between them. “Ah,” she began, then her mental gears engaged and she looked down at the topmost list as if double-checking something on it. “I’m having a taco bar at my place Saturday night. Would you like to come—”

“No,” he said.

She hadn’t expected that. She’d had the thought, but she hadn’t really expected it. Maybe an excuse, maybe he already had a date and they’d made other plans, but his flat refusal was a slap in the face.

“Okay.” She looked down at the list, trying to keep her expression casual as if she’d asked him nothing more important than if he wanted coffee.

He made a low sound, kind of like a growl, and seized her arm, then immediately released her as if she’d burned his hand. “Let’s go someplace more private,” he muttered, turning and striding off, not once looking back to see if she obeyed.

She thought about not following him, about turning around and marching out of the building. A hard lump in her throat made her think about making a dash to the bathroom, before she did something embarrassing, like cry. She wouldnotcry. No way would she ever let him know that he’d in any way upset her.

But he was the team leader, and she’d spent months doing exactly what he’d said, when he’d said it. Her feet might have dragged as she followed him, but they moved, because Levi had said so.

He looked into a couple of rooms before entering what turned out to be a small office; whoever belonged there had either already gone home or was taking a bathroom break. It didn’t matter; Levi claimed the space. As soon as she entered the room, he closed the door and locked it.

Locked it.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she stopped in her tracks. Her breath seized in her chest, but the alarm she was feeling wasn’t one of fear. She wasn’t afraid of Levi, not likethat. She was afraid of him on a much more feminine level, one she didn’t let herself examine because there was no way she was going there; that road was too fraught with emotional land mines, and she was neither crazy nor self-destructive.

He gave her an impatient look and ran his hand over his stubbled jaw, the rasping sound like sandpaper against her nerves. “Shit,” he muttered.

She relaxed a little at his expression of mingled impatience and disgust, but she was alone in a small space with him and her lizard brain was on red alert. Then that dark gaze zeroed in on her and for a split second, before he could control it, she saw a flash of heat as potent as a volcanic cauldron, bubbling and ready to blow. Then he shut it down, leaving nothing in his expression for her to read.

“I don’t shit where I sleep,” he said bluntly. “I know you’ve got the hots for me and it won’t go anywhere. It can’t go anywhere. So, no, I won’t be your date or your fuck buddy or anything else. Got it?”

For a moment Jina was blinded by shock. She could feel herself fumbling with the clipboard, but she didn’t know what she was doing. Her whole body was numb, her lips incapable of moving. He’d slugged her with words, but it felt as if he’d used his fist.

Then rage hit, rage so white and searing she felt incandescent with it. Her mind was blank. She looked down at the clipboard, and the list of names swam into focus.

“Okay, let’s see,” she said as if to herself. “Boom and his family, check. Voodoo, check. Snake and family, Brian, Jelly, Crutch, Trapper—” As she ran through their names she made little check marks beside them. “Looks as if everyone is coming except Asshole.” Vigorously she marked through his name, digging the pen so hard into the paper it tore holes.

“Who’s Brian?” he interrupted in a growl.

“Brian?” She looked up, managed to give him a megawatt smile. “He’s my date.” Clutching the clipboard to her chest, she strolled to the door, flipped the lock, and left. She didn’t know how she managed to put one foot in front of the other. She was reeling from his words, not just the crudeness but the lethal accuracy.

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