Galilee Rising (28 page)

"Jem, leash your bitch please," Jordan says, rolling his eyes. "Her yapping is grating."

"Not hearing a denial asshole."

"Joanna, stop," Jem orders.

"Yes, he can fight his own battles. He doesn't need your help."

"What do you want, Jordan?" Jem says before I can speak. "Really.
What do you want
?"

"Peace on earth and goodwill toward men?" he retorts with a smirk. "No, I suppose I don't really desire a thing. I'm quite content actually. I just found myself with some time on my hands. You know I've never handled boredom well."

"Then take up fucking fishing," I snap.

"Shut up, whore. You know, car bombs are cheap. One down, two more--"

"Enough!" Jem shouts. Both our mouths snap shut. The peacemaker takes a deep breath before looking back at his brother. "Scout,
please
, whatever you want me to do to stop this, I will. Whatever it is, I will do it, just don't hurt anyone else."

Jordan cocks an eyebrow at the prospect. "Really? If I told you to rob a bank, you would?"

"Yes."

"Give all your money away?"

"Yes."

"Jump off the highest building to your death to save them?" he asks, glimpsing at me.

"Absolutely," he says without hesitation.

It's only for a split second, and I don't know if Jem sees it as well, but like lightning a ripple of intense fury crosses his face, eyes blazing and nose twitching. Shit. Not what he wanted to hear. Jordan recovers with a smile. "I have no idea where this nobility comes from. Certainly not our sperm and ovum donors or those not-so-well-meaning morons who raised us."

"Guess he's just a better, stronger person than you," I say. "He didn't use his crappy childhood as an excuse to become a terrorist."

Jordan rolls his eyes again. "Yes, we get it, Joanna; you're madly in love with him. Won't have a harsh word spoken against him. So on and so forth. Hurrah for loyalty. But do shut up now."

For the first time in a long time I'm stunned speechless. "I'm not…I…"

"Finally," Jordan says. "If you ever do enter into a relationship with that thing I suggest investing in ear plugs or a muzzle. At least your last love interest had some class and knew when to keep her mouth shut. Even when I blew her head off, she managed to die silently."

"Don't talk about her," Jem warns.

"Why not? It was years ago, you must be over it by now. If you're not over a past lover then how can you ever move on?" He looks at me. "Really, Joanna, he is a loyal sort. He waited years after our sexual relationship ended before he entered into another with that Indian cow."

"Shut up," Jem says through gritted teeth.

"I never did ask. Was she better than me? Did she make you come as hard as I did? Do you still imagine it's my hand jerking you off on all those lonely nights--"

"SHUT UP!" Jem roars with insane ferocity. Even I shrink away, especially when he grabs the chair beside me and smashes it against the monitor. I leap out of my seat away from the onslaught. "Shut up!" He hits it again. "Shut up!" And again. "Shut up!" And again, until there's nothing left to demolish but shards of glass and plastic. He tosses the chair across the room and takes off running toward the ocean exit.

At first I'm too shocked to move. I just stare at the sparks shooting from the exposed wires. He actually did something I didn't think possible. He scared me. But I push it away and sprint after him. "Jem!" The passageway is dark with the only light from a bulb on the stone every ten feet. Jem has just reached the exit when I round the corner. He presses the button to open the cavern door onto to beach. "Jem, wait! Goddamn it, you wait for me Jonathan Ambrose!"

He reluctantly ceases moving and pulls his hand away from outside as if the waning sun would scald him. He doesn't turn around, just hangs his head like a man who has given up. When I reach him, I try to touch his arm, but he jerks it away and spins around, face scrunched up as if I were attacking him. "Don't touch--don't touch me. Please, just…" he whimpers. Despite his protests, I grab him by the collar and wrench him into my arms. I squeeze him as tight as possible in case he attempts to escape. He breathes heavily, the spurts hot against my hair, but when he realizes I'm not letting go, the pace lessens. I feel tears sprinkling into my hair. He raises his arms, lowers them again as he reconsiders, but does hug me back. "I can't take this anymore. I just can't," he whispers. His chest heaves against mine as if he's sprinted around the planet. "What-What he sai--" His voice cracks, choking off the rest of the words.

"You were young. You were scared. All you had was him. Whatever happened, happened. I don't need to know any more. And I don't think any less of you. I'm just
so
sorry that happened to you." I pull away enough to wipe the tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whisper.

He presses my hand against his cheek with his own and closes his eyes to savor the tangibility of it, breathing heavily as my compassion, my lust, my hunger nourish him. When those eyes fly open his breath stops, and he stares at me with laser sharp focus. Before I can say another word, his lips are on mine with enough force our teeth collide. His tongue enters my mouth as insatiable as the rest of him. As the rest of me. His zeal infects me. We grow inflamed as only fear, death, and desperation can stoke. I return his ardor stroke for stroke. I crash against the stone wall as he backs me against it. Using that to brace me, I lift my legs up to wrap around his waist. Though there are two pairs of pants separating us the heat of him pressing into me almost makes me lose my mind. I think I very nearly do as his hands move under my shirt and bra. He's not gentle either, instead squeezing and pinching in all the right places. I let out a pained moan, and the hands vanish along with his lips.

When I open my eyes he's staring up at me, unblinking with sad wonderment. I want to ask what's wrong but those eyes terminate further thought. Awe transforms into terror, then anguish. We gape at one another for a tense moment before he breathlessly croaks, "I lov…" but nothing else comes. Like a man who has just cheated on his wife for the first time, he's disgusted by what he's done, mouth twisting into a sneer and nose wrinkling up. "I can't do this. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

My feet drop to the ground as he springs away. "Jem…"

He retreats backwards. "Ju-Just stay away from me. I can't…" he whimpers again and presses his temples with the palms of his hands as if the voices were yelling at him. He lowers them and once again on the verge of tears says, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

And he takes off like a rocket out and into the bright blue sky. Shit. This one step up two steps back is making me exhausted. I just hope the dance hasn't ended for good. I still have a few twirls left in me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cockroach Psychology

Abandoned and alone. Why do superheroes always leave me abandoned and alone? Dozens of messages to Lexie and Jem left unanswered. Everyone else on the planet has phoned, reporters mostly. I can't even leave the house anymore without them following. They've been parked on the street and inundating me with calls for days. The theories are running as rampant as the gossip, quite a few even coming close to the truth. I've "no commented" until my tongue is sore, barely left the mansion except to go into the office where I locked myself in all day. I hate to admit it but I think I'm afraid to go outside or climb in a car. The first time I had to drive, I popped the hood and checked under the seats and undercarriage for bombs. Even still took five minutes of willing myself in a cold sweat to turn the key. Hasn't gotten much better in the passing days. Hell even inside the office and home I'm on high alert. The house creaks, and I damn near yelp. It's hard waiting for a hammer to drop on my head. Calling a genius psychopath a pussy might not have been the smartest move I've ever made.

The self-imposed tension has gotten so thick I can't even focus on my real work for the past five days. All the monitors were destroyed and Lizard, when he finally agreed to come over, wiped the hard drive and had to re-install all the programs and backed up information. Took days. We did upgrade the monitors to state-of-the-art touch screens. While he was pimping my ride, I spent the time attempting to wrap my head around how Cain discovered the truth about Brendan. And in my hours of contemplation I've come up with nothing. Zip. I thought my affair explanation was pretty damn believable considering that rumor was already swirling around town. From what I've gleaned after interrogating Dobbs, there was nothing super heroic in his finding me and getting me to the hospital. No superpowers displayed at all.

Something else nags at me during my sleepless nights. That video call. It was too…on point, time wise. Jordan could have a tracker on Jem or someone watching the ocean exit from a boat and knew when he arrived here. Possible but not probable. Jem would have considered those possibilities and taken the necessary precautions. Five days and nights of working all the angles with nothing to show. I'm missing something important, something Jordan said or did when he was here that will blow the confusion away. It hasn't happened yet. But I do have a Hail Mary pass up my sleeve. After all I did promise to call him, and my word is my bond no matter how much that promise turns my stomach.

I've only allotted twenty minutes for this torture. Memorial to get to and all. I've been to far too many in the past year. One expects to attend five funerals in a year when in your eighties, not at thirty-three. I wasn't officially invited but decided to fly to Independence anyway. Even if Lexie turns me away at the church door at least she'll know I put forth the effort.

I sit at the new and improved Doris to wait for the call. I'm not as nervous as last time. Guess there's a new monster under my bed to fill my nightmares. He won't like that. I must make sure to tell him.

The video chat music begins tinkling, and I accept. Ryder sits on the other end looking exactly the same as last week: cheerful and handsome despite his pasty skin and need of a shave. His smile drops a little when he sees me.

"Oh, my. You look dreadful."

"You're one to talk, vampire Grizzly Adams."

"I was expressing genuine concern, Joanna," he says snidely. If he were capable of feelings, I'd think I just bruised his. "You're obviously under considerable stress. Not sleeping? You haven't become a wino again, have you?"

"No." Came close a few times, but my sponsor talked me down. "Things have gotten a lot more heated with Cain, that's all."

"Was my information useful?"

"Yeah, but then he attacked me and…got the upper hand."

Ryder's face falls. "I'm sorry, Joanna." He pauses. "He didn't violate you, did he?"

"No, he's not a rapist, unlike some," I say with venom I can't contain.

"Excuse me, I've only committed the act once, and it had to do with principals, not sexual deviance."

"And that makes it okay?"

His mouth remains shut for a few seconds. "I don't like where this conversation is headed. You're growing angry. Let's try and keep this as pleasant as possible, alright? Despite what you may think, I don't want to add to your apparently mountainous troubles."

"Forgive me if I find that a little difficult to believe."

"Understandable. But you're a smart girl. Consider my motives for speaking to you. Boredom. Access to Grace. If I piss you off, they won't be serviced. Besides, I never had anything against
you
. As with Dr. Thornton and her progeny, you were a means to an end. In fact I hold you in quite high regard. I truly do. I know you hate me, and not without cause, and I blackmailed you into these calls, but I don't want this to be torturous for you. I'll remain on my best behavior if you will. Agreed?"

I roll my eyes. "Fine."

He settles into his yellow plastic chair. "So. If the Emperor didn't molest you, and you seem intact otherwise, what exactly occurred during your time together?"

"We talked. He made me show him the command center. He knocked me out and installed a few computer viruses."

"That's all?" Ryder asks, surprised.

"As far as we can tell. Why?"

He shrugs. "Just seems a little…light, is all."

"Like I got off easy."

"Exactly. I mean, did he even interrogate you? Attempt to gain the true identities of his sworn enemies? Not to mention the fact he made you privy to the fact he was using your computer. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"Of course it does. I mean, I'm not that big a threat, but I am…friendly with them. They would care if I died. In that respect, I'm worth more to him dead than alive. So why the fuck am I alive?"

He considers this for a moment. Who knows what a cockroach is thinking better than his brethren? "From what I know of him, nothing this man does or says is on the fly. It's been planned, rehearsed, then planned and rehearsed again for every contingency. I'm the same, all of the legends are," he says with a smile. I roll my eyes again. "Everything done has an endgame. For example, why do you think I killed Dr. Thornton first?"

"Shock value? Easier prey? She and Daisy were the most important to Justin?"

"Are you a poker player, Joanna?"

"No."

"I am. A good poker player works the odds. He knows the cards and often uses simple addition and subtraction to determine what the most likely outcome is. A
great
poker player more or less ignores the cards. He plays the players."

"I see prison has turned you into a Zen master."

"I do have nothing to do but meditate, but no, you're missing my point. He can work the odds, sure, but in the end it all comes down to the people around the table. Our player has done his homework. He's determined the other player's psychology, quirks, etc. as the game wears on."

"What does this tutorial have to do with Rebecca and Daisy?"

"You were right. Part of the reason I disposed of them first was for the shock. To all of you. The act sent all my players into a panic, exactly as I anticipated. That was the face value, but ask yourself, what did the Thorntons really signify to Justice?"