Page 99 of Severed Heart
He chuckles at my retreat before giving me a bewildered shake of his head, eyes searching mine. “I’m really done?”
“Oui. Somehow, you moved up the ranks straight from private to general, but this is proof I did a good job, non?”
“Very good.” He steps forward, grabbing my hands and shaking them lightly. “Thank you, Delphine.” His whisper is so heartfelt it fully warms my insides. “I don’t think”—he glances down at our connected hands, his thick, curled lashes flitting over his sculpted cheeks—“no, I fucking know I wouldn’t have survived these past few years without you.”
I balk at this. “Has so much time passed, Soldier?”
“We’re a few months shy of it, but getting close.”
“Wow,” I say. “Well, maybe have trained you well, but you clearly failed because I am still a brash bitch.” I buff my own nails on my shirt.
“Thank God.” He grins. “But seriously, have you looked in the mirror lately, General? You’re fucking glowing.”
I harrumph as I turn to exit my bedroom.
“Deny it all you want,kissing tramp,” he taunts, trailing me, “but you’ve become a slightly more tolerable and, dare I say, mildly happier human.”
“Shut up before I kick your balls,” I call over my shoulder as we head toward the kitchen.
“That’s my girl,” he chuckles, “and I mean, you could give it your best shot, but I doubt your little legs could kick so high,” he teases as I pour him a glass of water from the faucet and hand it over.
“Ha-ha, so funny,” I retort dryly before drawing my own glass as we stand side by side at the sink, watching the rain trickle down the windowpane as the storm wind batters the trees.
“Is it okay to say I’m proud of you, too?” he asks, his eyes imploring.
I swallow and nod. “It’s okay, I know you aren’t being condescending.”
“Good because I am. So fucking proud. It’s been beautiful to watch.” His eyes gently roll over me. “So . . .” He tugs at the loop on my shorts playfully. “You really setting me free?Donewith me?”
“Non.” His question brings me some relief. “Still and always will be a best friend and fishin’ buddy, but your soldiering now depends all on you. And your ability to master blink to black.” His eyes lower at the mention, which is telling, but I decide not to press him on it.
“Well,” he says, “as newly appointed general, I have a mission for you.”
“Oh?” I grin. “I don’t remember agreeing to take your orders.”
“Then how about a request?” He drops his eyes briefly.
“Hmm, now I am intrigued, General Jennings, spit out this request.”
“Oof, say it again,” he teases, “I love the sound of it coming off your tongue.”
“Your request, imbecile,” I counter dryly.
“Fine. I’m hoping you’ll draw me a map”—he poses his question with hope in his eyes—“several maps. As many as you’ll make me of Triple Falls.”
I draw up my face in confusion. “Soldier, there are already many maps of Triple Falls. Professional maps.”
“I’m aware, but I need anexpert strategist’smaps, with a few key variations. Including the underground hangout you told me about, that spot teenagers frequented during the sixties, remember?”
“Oui, because I was the one that told you,” I retort sarcastically.
“Right, smartass.” He shakes his head. “Well, first, I want an aerial map with coordinates. Then a detailed street map, and then a map with highlighted details of any other locations just like that underground spot.”
I glance up and over at him as he keeps his eyes on the rain—another of his tells that he’s hiding something behind this request.
“For what purpose?” I ask.
“I’ll tell you when the time comes,” he offers with promise.
