French braid.The memory seeps back into me.
My eyes go from focusing on the technique and Mori’sworking hands to his lovely face. His expression is set in a somber, weak smile. One that I imagine lovers give to each other when saying goodbye before long trips or finishing an art piece before letting it go.
He finishes and sets a braid over each shoulder. I look down at them and smile. This does feel more like me than anything else I’ve tried. It didn’t even cross my mind that something as simple as hair could start to resurface the person I once was.
“All done,” he murmurs, hesitating a moment before standing and walking back to the whiteboard. His absence at my back is instantly recognizable, and a cold weight sets deep in my chest.
I reach up and brush my hand over my shoulder, feeling that I’m missing something. A warm squeeze or perhaps a kiss there.Something.I return to my seat and watch Mori with a more feverish craving than before he touched me so delicately.
“Have you braided my hair before?” I ask, doing my best to keep my tone void of the desperation I have to soak in his words.
He draws out the valley between the hideout and the tree line we’ll be using for cover on the whiteboard. “No.” His answer is easy, making me question whether I’m just imagining things from the way I felt just then. Did someone else braid my hair for me? I’m certain it was someone dear to me. My hand tenses over my shoulder, trying and failing to find the lost feeling.
“Is your name actually Mori?” I press him.
He pauses. Then a sigh.
“No.”
“What is your name then?” My lips firm into a flat line. Why doesn’t anyone call him anything other than Mori? We all use our real names when we’re off duty besides him.
“We’re going to wait here for the signal.” He circles an area on the board, blatantly ignoring my question.Okay, he clearly doesn’t want me to know.I rest my chin on my palm and lean on the table. “Once we get the go-ahead, we’re going in loud. They’re going to be on us fast. Likely shocked and taken by surprise, so we need to have our defenses up. It’s been confirmed that they have heavy artillery in there.” He circles part of the building, a window from the second story. “We’ll use the natural rock wall of the ditch, here. Then once they stop, we’ll split up. You run right, I’ll go left. Got it?” Mori looks back at me.
I worry my lower lip, this plan reallyissuicide. It makes me wonder if their true mission is just to get rid of us and see how long we last like some sort of sick twisted game.
“Yeah, I got it.” I twirl the end of my braid between my fingers. His eyes catch the motion and widen for a brief second before he looks back at the instructions Bridger gave him.
“We’ll stop here for tonight, but first thing after drills tomorrow you’re back in that seat, and I want you to walk me through this yourself so I know you’re on the same page as me.” He sets the notes down on the table and lights another cigarette. The sound of his Zippo lighter clicking brings a smile to my lips.
I wish I knew why.
“I’ll figure you out, you know,” I muse, pressing my hands to the table as I rise.
His sage eyes meet mine, warming as he takes in my smile. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”
I stroll out of the small room. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find your weakness. You can’t hide whatever it is you’re keeping from me.” I fold my hands together behind my back.
Mori stares, raising a brow and grinning. “I’d like to see you try.”
There it is again. Something so familiar, yet no more than a nagging whisper over my shoulder. I’m afraid I’ll become infatuated with that nostalgic feeling.
I will remember who you are to me, Mori.
5
EMERY
His hands grip my thighs,keeping me pinned open for him as he laps at my pussy.
My head drops back and my fingers thread through his soft hair, fisting tightly as he flicks my clit with his tongue and presses two fingers deep inside me. I moan loudly into the expansive dark room.
It hits me then: I have no clue where I am.
I push myself up to my elbows, looking around frantically, only finding a vast sea of darkness. This isn’t Fury Squad’s barrack, but the empty and fearful feeling I get from being down here swarms me.
I know this place. I know it well, yet I cannot name it.
The man rises from my center, looking up at me with such lovely, somber eyes. White hair that drapes over his forehead when it’s mussed like it is right now. That achingly alluring scar that cuts down his eye.
