Changing Tides Page 6

  “Lieutenant Brett DeMarco, you were asked to make a decision, one brought on because you have helped us without making any sort of formal statement one way or the other.” Orion’s voice was sure and strong in the darkness, becoming his point of reference.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Close your eyes. I’m going to remove your blindfold.”

  Brett did as he was told. The touch required to uncover his eyes was cold. Had Orion given up on him? Before any more thoughts could invade, he sensed the other man stepping away from him. Taking a deep breath, Brett opened his eyes, squeezed them shut again before blinking them rapidly and trying to get used to the bright light.

  “Take a moment,” Orion said, sounding farther away.

  Brett forced his eyes to work. Slowly, the room came back into focus. He was in the same room, surrounded by the same people as yesterday. He turned his attention to Orion.

  “Have you made your decision?” Orion asked. Dark circles and deep lines of worry, etched his man’s face. Shades of insecurity and pain filled his eyes.

  “I have one question first. Something, I need to know.” Even as the words formed, Brett knew the truth of them.

  “What?” Orion asked his voice pinched.

  “Is your group responsible for Doctor Taren Prescott’s death?”

  “A doctor, you say?” a dark-haired woman asked.

  “Y-yes. He was tortured and murdered,” Brett replied. Even if he disagreed with his government, he could never align himself with a group who condoned that sort of action.

  “No,” the woman replied instantly.

  “Orion?” Brett asked.

  “No, we aren’t responsible for that. We have never killed a civilian. We might be able to find out who did, though,” Orion replied. “Our enemy is the government. It wouldn’t be in our best interests to take that kind of action, especially not with civilians. We have never tortured anyone, not even government officials.”

  “I would like to know who did it, if that’s possible.”

  Orion nodded.

  Silence descended. They were waiting for his decision. They would find out who was responsible for Taren’s death, even if he sided against them. “Between death and death. Or even captivity, I… I still can’t support my government.”

  “Be certain. We won’t kill you.”

  “No, but even if I was found in some rat-infested cell by government forces, I would be killed,” Brett answered. “I will do my best to help you succeed.”

  “I don’t trust him.” A lone speaker broke the silence from the table.

  Brett turned to the man, one of the same men who had demanded he be killed yesterday. “Sir, you don’t have to trust me. I offer my services and knowledge, such as they are, to this group all the same.”

  “Why did you need time to make your decision?” the man demanded.

  “My family has been in the military and government for generations. You’re asking me to give up everything based on little knowledge and my gut reaction.”

  “Just so you understand, Lieutenant DeMarco,” the woman who’d spoken to him earlier said. “Betray us, and we will find you and kill you.”

  Brett swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t surprised. This group hadn’t remained this unknown by trusting lightly or allowing betrayal to stand. Orion cleared his throat and nodded. The cuffs securing Brett’s hands were removed. Orion stilled any movement, massaging first one of Brett’s arms and shoulders then switching sides while the table’s occupants discussed new information and progress on other topics. The voices faded, Brett’s concentration pinpointing on Orion and his touch.

  A chair was brought out, and he was helped into it. Orion touched him often, while Brett tried to follow this discussion. Decision made, he wanted to contribute, hoping any reservations he had would disappear. He wondered if they could actually find out what had happened to Taren or if it was a lie. He needed to know. For closure, he needed to know.

  “Do we have any idea what the government knows about us?”

  The question pulled Brett from his thoughts. “Very little. Until you claimed responsibility for the video, they had no idea you existed. Even afterward, information was limited to a partial manifesto—little more than a few sentences that can’t be traced to anyone, some of which are contradictory. I know. I looked. Homeland Security in the capitol may know more, but if they do, they weren’t sharing,” Brett answered, refusing to acknowledge the pang of guilt he felt for giving out the information. It was information he wouldn’t have told anyone outside his chain of command twenty-four hours ago.

  “You flipped pretty fast.”

  Brett tensed at the accusation. “I had time to think about it. And my name is on that list of people to be arrested last night. If there isn’t now, there will be a shoot to kill order given soon. My only chance at life, to live without any sort of fear, is for you, this group, to succeed.”

  The woman across from the speaker nodded.

  “Find out what is known now. In the meantime, start the first phase of the next operation,” Orion ordered. “You all have your orders.”

  “What about me?” Brett asked.

  “Have you eaten?”

  Brett shook his head. “I had something last night.”

  “Good. Then you and I will have a quiet breakfast and a shower. No offense, hon, but you stink,” Orion said, smiling. Brett watched as Orion scribbled a note and handed it to the man who had been guarding him. The guard nodded and disappeared.

  Chapter Five

  Orion led the way through the maze of corridors to the small room that belonged to him. He wanted to pinch himself, to know it was a reality that Brett had decided to help them. Questions about who Taren Prescott was or even why Brett had made the decision he did could wait until after the man had gotten food, shower and sleep. War was approaching, and everyone needed to be ready for it. But for now, he wanted to spend a few hours with the man he cared about, burning off some of the mounting stress and tension they’d both been under.

  Stopping in front of a door, Orion punched a code and stared into the small retinal scanner, waiting impatiently for the locks to disengage. He led the way down another passage to another door with a number pad where he punched in another code.

  “Security is impressive. This place must be huge,” Brett said quietly.

  “The digging, building, excavating and installing security has been an ongoing process for years.”

  “How does no one about this?” Brett asked as Orion led the way into his room.

  It wasn’t much, slightly larger than his dorm on base. The room opened to a sitting room and small kitchenette. A door on the far side led to a bedroom of roughly the same size and a bathroom. The walls were cement blocks that had been painted white some time in the past. The maze of tunnels connected buildings and areas of the city from all eras. Orion secured the door behind them and turned on music. It was low enough they could talk over, but high enough that it cover anything that might be said.

  “What is this place?”

  “It counts as home, I guess,” Orion said, looking around. His throat was raw and sore, his voice unnatural to his own ears after years of disuse.

  “How do you go from not speaking at all to…to everything?” Brett asked.

  “Survival,” Orion said simply, retrieving a bottle of water from the small fridge and taking a drink from it. “Want one?”

  “Not yet. You mentioned a shower? It might help me feel a bit more human.”

  Orion nodded and led the way into the bathroom. He set out towels, showed Brett where everything was and kissed him quickly on the lips before returning to the living room. Rolling his shoulders, he sat down. There was just as much to do here as there had been while working for the general, if not more. Relishing the quiet, where there were no questions to answer, he smiled at the irony. He’d grown so used to not speaking that now that he could, it was slightly painful and made him leery of talking more. Additionally, he worr
ied about having the wrong people overhear him.

  A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Orion withdrew the gun he’d carried since they left the base yesterday. He opened the door slowly, gun cocked, his body preventing the door from opening farther.

  “The clothes and food you asked for.”

  Orion smiled and nodded.

  “He’s the one who dropped off Jackson?”

  Orion nodded again. Thompson hadn’t been there when Mark Jackson had confirmed that Brett had been the one to bring him to the safe house the night he’d been beaten up by security forces. Orion knew the two men were cousins and the entire family was close.

  Thompson smiled, nodded and turned around.

  Orion closed and locked the door. Their arrival had been earlier than planned and provisions hadn’t been stored yet. They would be responsible for their own meals, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the deference everyone paid to him.

  From a distance, he’d never thought about it. While working for the general, he’d met CFA members in different locations every time, only staying long enough for decisions to be made before leaving again. Now, confronted every minute by the course of action his life was taking, he wondered if he could measure up to people’s expectations. Was he smart enough? Good enough? Strong enough?

  After carrying the box to the kitchenette, he brought the clothes and boots into the bedroom. He’d been stashing clothes and other items in various places for years. Some had already been brought into the underground base, while others would have to be retrieved. Conversely, Brett had left home in his running clothes, with little more than his wallet.

  Listening to the water run in the bathroom, Orion heaved a sigh and returned to the kitchenette and started to put the food away. The mundane activity wasn’t enough to distract him from his responsibilities or what Brett’s body looked like. Would it be as strong, as perfect as the rest of him appeared to be? How was he supposed to sleep at night? There was one bed and a small couch. He hadn’t truly thought it out before bringing Brett back to his quarters.

  They hadn’t done anything more than kiss. Brett had hinted at wanting more, but Orion wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He wanted the other man. There was no way he could honestly deny that. He’d dreamt of him, had jacked off to fantasies of him. But that still didn’t mean he was ready for sex. Orion ran a hand through his hair and shook it out of the ponytail. It was less that he didn’t want to have sex with Brett and more that he didn’t want ruin what they had.

  Orion blew out a breath. What would those people who looked to him for answers think if they knew that at the end of the day he wanted nothing more than to be held and taken care of?

  Putting the last of the groceries away, he took a swig of his water then sat down on the couch. There was no way either of them could sleep on the couch and actually feel rested. That meant in bed. Together. Orion ran a hand through his hair. Sharing a bed didn’t mean sex. Especially if they went to bed at different times or were exhausted. Exhausted was his first choice.

  The water in the bathroom stopped. Orion pulled himself to his feet and pulled out a can of soup and the loaf of bread from the small pantry. He was pleased that their group was mostly self-sufficient. They’d made connections and developed relationships at every level, had taken the time to get to know the people who lived in the shadows. There were few luxuries, and there hadn’t always been enough to go around, but from the beginning everyone was committed to success. His parents had believed so much in the cause, they’d wagered his life on it.

  Food, shelter and relative safety had been their most pressing issues to solve before they began to stockpile weapons, equipment and knowledge. Gathering information wasn’t enough anymore. He could appreciate and understand the community that had been built, but they needed to act. The longer they waited, the harder it would be to get people to back them, to do anything about what was happening in Aelland. Taking no action in the face of the revelations they’d brought to light would undermine their credibility.

  Listening for Brett, Orion fixed the simple meal for them and set out two places. Orion bit back a chuckle at the absurdly domestic activity when they were in what had become an underground base, on the verge of a revolution and both of them most likely with death warrants sworn out against them.

  “Orion?” Brett asked, walking out of the bedroom wrapped only in a towel.

  “Clothes—” Orion began, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. Brett was gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, corded muscles and chiseled abs had been hidden under the starched military uniform.

  “Yes?”

  Orion cleared his throat. “Clothes. On the bed. Yours.”

  “Thank you, but I think this is better,” Brett said, crossing over to him. “You’re beautiful when you’re flustered.”

  Orion shook his head and took a step back. Lust burned in Brett’s deep blue eyes. All traces of fear or exhaustion had disappeared from their depths. Orion swallowed and took another step back. He’d been stalked and hunted before, but never had he felt more like prey staring up at a predator who wanted to devour him. Never before had he wanted to be caught, to be held down by the stronger limbs, to be fucked until he could barely remember his own name. He refused to look anywhere but Brett’s eyes. If he saw what the towel hid, saw physical proof of Brett’s desire, he might act. He couldn’t do that, no matter how much he wanted Brett or how much the other man wanted him.

  Orion inhaled sharply as the edge of the counter dug into his back. He hadn’t realized he’d been moving or that Brett had continued to stalk him. Brett captured his mouth in a soul-stealing kiss. Brett gently, but insistently asked for Orion to open his mouth, allowing him access. Orion relented. He liked Brett’s kisses. Liked the way the older man controlled them and the way he tasted and smelled. Orion could happily kiss Brett all day.

  When Brett’s hand cupped his erection, Orion’s eyes flew open. Squirming, heedless of the pain radiating from his back, he ducked out of Brett’s embrace and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Sliding to the floor, he stared at the door. It was locked, but it wouldn’t hold against Brett if the bigger man wanted to break it down.

  A soft knock on the door startled him.

  “Orion? Sweetheart?” Brett called out. He knocked again but didn’t try the door handle. “Come out so we can talk.”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Orion shook his head.

  * * * *

  Brett blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair before turning and sitting on the bed. It would be an eternity before he got the image of the fear filling Orion’s eyes out of his head. His gut clenched with self-loathing. Anger spiked through him. He was ready to strike out at whoever had put that look in Orion’s eyes. Taking several deep breaths and letting them out slowly, he stood. Orion wasn’t his. He didn’t know what had happened, and it wasn’t his problem.

  “The hell it isn’t!” Ripping the towel from his waist, he flung it across the room, wishing he had something to hit. Hard and repeatedly. The ferocity of his possessiveness scared him. Was that what had spooked the younger man? Brett shook his head. He didn’t think so.

  Dressing quickly in the tan, camouflaged fatigues and black combat boots, he knocked softly on the door one more time before heading to where Orion had left their meal. Sitting, he realized he was famished.

  While he ate, his mind drifted back to Orion. Orion had looked at him with fear, but his quiet words earlier had put everyone in the room on edge. Men and women, some twice his age, had left the final decision of things up to him. Brett knew Orion was younger than him. He was twenty-three tops. It didn’t make sense for someone that young to be in charge of anything, especially not what seemed to be the one group capable of dismantling the current government.

  Brett bit the inside of his cheek. With one decision, he had turned his back on his country and his family. He knew no one in the room he’d been in trusted him, so why di
d they trust Orion. What did they know that he didn’t?

  He had finished his meal and was staring at the wall across from him, when he heard the bathroom door click open. He moved to warm up Orion’s food before returning to the table. “Your food should be warm in a minute or so.”

  “That’s it? You’re not—”

  “Angry? Disappointed? Still aching for you?” Brett asked, standing and turning toward Orion.

  Orion nodded.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  Orion bit his lip and shrugged.

  “Words, sweetheart. Use words. Please,” Brett said, stepping closer. They were close enough to touch, but he wanted, needed, Orion to make the first move.

  “No.”

  Brett retrieved a bottle of water and twisted the cap off. “Is it me or something I said or did?” He waited, watching as emotions swirled in the brown depths of Orion’s eyes as he thought.

  “Did,” he answered finally, his voice cracking. “It just took me back.”

  “Sore throat? Drink some water,” Brett suggested, handing the bottle to him. Cursing himself that he hadn’t thought about how hard talking would be on Orion before. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want you. I do. You know I do. But I won’t push or pry.”

  Orion nodded, taking a long drink from the bottle of water.

  Anger raged through Brett, wanting a target, but another part of him wanted to know that the man beside him was safe and that his nightmares were gone. Brett pushed a hand through his hair. “Should we see if other sleeping arrangements can be made for me?” Brett asked. He didn’t like it and didn’t want to be separated from Orion at all. The smaller man still pulled out Brett’s protective instincts.

  Orion shook his head. “I…I asked… It-it’s fine.”

  Brett nodded his understanding. Orion had asked that Brett stay with him. He couldn’t ask for Brett to be reassigned without being seen as indecisive or revealing his secret.