Page 35 of 72 Hours

The room fell silent again, but now the air was charged with shock and confusion.

And more damned fear.

I needed to rest. But I had ideas and worries in my head, and quite a few other disturbing gremlins. Time had been passing in a very disjointed way, and I wanted time to marshal my thoughts before the evening passed altogether.

Niall came over to take the glass from my hand. I hadn’t realised it was slipping in the first place, but I’d sunk further down on the couch. He stood above me for a moment, looking down on my tired body. “I’m okay,” I muttered. I was annoyed. Shattered. Defensive. Fuck knows what else.

“I know,” he said, surprising me with his calm tone. “He did a good job. Hans, the mysterious doctor. You’re okay indeed.”

I smiled slightly. First time he’d really acknowledged the community around me. “They’re good people here. A little far from convention, of course, but they’ve all welcomed me. Junk’s a friend. A helpful guy—”

“He may well be,” Niall broke in dryly. “But I’m talking about the guy that you are.”

“Huh?”

Niall shook his head, and smiled in return. “How do you do it, Tanner?”

“Do what?”

“It never ceases to amaze me.” His voice was quiet; perhaps he thought he should be lowering it in the presence of invalids. “The way you get on with people, the way you blend in wherever you are. I’ve seen you with politicians and diplomats, and they accept you easily and discuss the relevant mission points with you. Then you’re here, and just as much a part of this community as with the Team.”

I shifted awkwardly. Didn’t sound like the usual abuse. Didn’t sound like the Niall I’d invited into my home less than forty-eight hours ago. Didn’t sound like the guy whose jaw I once punched. “People are more tolerant than they’re given credit for, you know.”

“You have a gift,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. He swallowed hard. “I always envied it.”

I just stared. His eyes were fastened on my mouth, as if he waited to see what might spill out of it. I remembered that as a habit of his—especially when he wanted me. It had been too long since I’d seen that look of desire without it being mixed up and corrupted by a hell of a lot of other, less comfortable feelings. But it seemed he wasn’t exactly putting out the welcome mat. In fact he looked confused... uncertain. A little shocked. Like he had when he’d arrived with the other guys, his home just having crumbled around his ears. But this time, I didn’t think he was thinking about his fixtures and fittings.

It was the first time for a long time that I’d stopped to consider how Niall Sutherland might be feeling about me.

Then he seemed to realise that he’d spoken rather uncharacteristically; a flush appeared high on his cheeks, and his scowl returned. “Whatever. I think I must be overtired too. I meant to tell you, the girl called here earlier. Is it Sheri?” I nodded confirmation. “She called several times, actually. Brought more food in for us both, for supper, though, I’m afraid your share is congealing in the kitchen.”

“She’s a friend,” I said, just for something to fill the quietness. There were strange reactions rippling in my chest cavity like butterflies trapped in a jar.

He smiled again, a little wistfully. “She likes you, Tanner. A little more than a friend, I think.” His gaze darted uncertainly over me. I was suddenly very conscious of a trickle of sweat just below my throat; I noticed I had a smattering of golden toast crumbs in the creases of my sweats. What were the flickers of emotion I could see in his eyes? What the hell was wrong with me, thinking Niall Sutherland and wistfully in the same mental sentence?

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, she went to help Greg off the park, so she’s not been around here since. I’ll go get your bed ready. I hope your friends will leave you in peace for a while. We need to get you through this night as calmly as possible.”

He turned away, rather abruptly.

I wondered whether this ‘truce’ business was really going to be one of my brighter ideas.

​​​Chapter 15 – Tuesday 23:07

I stirred in bed, biting back a groan as I accidentally nudged my bruised arm against the wall. The room was semi-dark, strangely shadowed. The moonlight was diffused by clouds, but there was additional illumination from the lights of other, nearby trailers, reflecting through my bedroom window. I’d made it to my own bed in the end, laying myself carefully on top of the sheets, keeping my undershirt and sweats on. Niall was taking the couch. Or at least, that’s where I left him. I lay on the thin mattress, wide awake from the many thoughts and feelings that had fuck all to do with the knitting wound on my arm, and then his silhouette appeared at the doorway.

“I’m still okay,” I said a little tersely, in case he thought I needed some more of his special brand of reluctant nursing. Hell, I could get myself to the toilet now, couldn’t I? The painkillers were doing their work again, and even if my mind were working overtime, most of my body felt a pleasant lassitude.

I couldn’t sleep, though.

“I had to consider that, you know,” he said. His face was in full shadow but his teeth glinted quickly in the dimness. “About Simon.”

“I know.” I didn’t say anything else. After all, we were in ‘truce’ mode, weren’t we? That was a good enough reason to bite back any sharp reply I might have discovered inside my restless brain. But I was also recognising something else seeping its way into the dealings we had with each other. This current crisis was like a mission in itself—and both of us had emphasised the importance of finding our way through it. The mission was taking precedence over any hostile feelings we had for each other. And wasn’t that how it should be?

“You were right. We’d better stay put.” I could hear a muffled laugh and a friendly shout, somewhere far over the other side of the park; I thought I could hear the jangle of a dog tag and a sleepy snuffle outside. Probably Dylan still keeping watch. “We’ll wait for a call from Judith. We’re probably as safe here as anywhere, with people watching out for us. Maybe the attacker will think we’ve run out. Maybe it’ll be a bluff.”

“A double bluff, in case we actually do,” he said. Another glint of teeth in a small smile.

“Yeah. Something like that.” I shifted again on the bed and wondered why I felt vulnerable. I was fully clothed, I was in my own place, and no one had tried to kill me for several hours. “There must be a motive to be found, Niall. We need to talk to the other guys. We need to do some more thinking.”