Page 49 of Fractured Future
“Hi.” I step out of the bathroom to find him waiting. “I was just getting cleaned up.”
“You look good.” Warner smiles. “Did what the Falcon Team packed for you fit okay? Tom gave them your rough sizes.”
Truthfully, the sizing is a little off. My body has changed since I last stepped foot in this country. I’ve always been fit, but my slight curves now boast hard, visible muscles.
“It’ll do. Thanks.”
He rubs a hand over the scruff on his chin. “Listen. I can hold our superiors off until you’ve rested, but we’ll need to bring you into HQ for questioning.”
“I figured.”
“I’m sorry.” His mouth quirks. “It’s my job, Em.”
When he smiles, Warner’s entire demeanour transforms. He’s a handsome man—slim but muscular with firm shoulders, evenly proportioned features and intense baby blues that radiate warmth.
As a kid, I had the stupidest crush on him. He was the cute, friendly boy from down the street who spent more time at our house than his. Plus, he paid attention to me. Made me feel special.
It didn’t take long for those first innocent feelings to bubble up. The older boy with all his burgeoning muscles and thoughtful, caring questions. How could I not fall for him?
As we both grew older, the unwritten rules of our friendship put a stop to those feelings. He’s Tom’s best friend. For that reason, our relationship has always been strictly platonic.
“Always so dutiful,” I joke.
“I’m kinda straddling two horses in this race. I have a job to do, but I’m your friend too, Em. No one is going to rush you while you’re settling back in and healing.”
“As much as I appreciate your care, there are others out there who need to be helped. I’ll tell you everything I know if you can catch the motherfuckers hurting those innocent women.”
Warner nods. “I won’t stop until I do.”
“Promise?”
He sticks out a curved pinkie finger. “You know I always keep my word.”
“You do. That’s why I’m asking for it.”
“Then yes. I promise.”
Hooking our fingers together, we seal the deal. Having the reassurance that he’ll keep fighting for me and all the others victimised by Gael’s enterprise relieves a crushing weight.
“God.” A rush of overwhelming anxiety engulfs me. “I can’t believe I’m going home.”
“Hey.” Warner tugs me into a bear hug. “It’s going to be okay.”
His chin nestles against my head as I snuggle into his broad chest. Despite being smaller than Hyland’s towering form, Warner packs the same bulk as Axel and can easily handle himself.
I’ve never hugged him for long enough to categorise his scent before. It’s a fresh, intoxicating blend of patchouli and pine, the combination taking me to a mountainous forest retreat.
“We’ll get justice.” His hand lightly circles my back, careful not to press on my bruises. “For you and everyone else that son of a bitch has hurt.”
Reluctantly extricating myself from his warmth, I plaster on a strained smile. It needs to stay on until I’m alone again and can deal with the trauma clouding my mind.
“Thanks for coming to get me.”
Warner fiddles with a loose strand of his salt-and-pepper hair. “You can stop thanking me now. Just doing my?—”
“Job,” I finish for him. “I know. Still, I’m glad it was you.”
“Me too, Em.”
