Rogue Alliance

FIFTY-TWO



It was ten o’clock at night when they finally left the clinic. Shyla had kept herself busy by walking the well manicured grounds. Though it was drizzling steadily, she enjoyed the quiet gardens. Later, under the sanctuary of a gazebo she made a phone call to Shawn. After he gave her the status update on Carmen’s search, she told him of the altercation she’d had in the parking lot of Dirty Dave’s.

“What in the hell, Shyla, why are you just now reporting this? You should have called us last night so we could have hauled him into the station right away.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but I was drunk and in no state to go through the rigorous protocol that would have ensued. Besides, Brennan had me out of there so fast, I didn’t know what had happened until it was over.”

There was a vast silence on the other end of the line. Shyla knew that Shawn was trying to decide how to process her involvement with Brennan.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“I uh…got a lead from a friend down in LA. I’m checking into it. I’ll be home first thing tomorrow morning.”

Her lie hung between them on the line. She hated to betray him, especially after the friendship that they had been developing over the past few weeks, but he would have never understood the complex relationship that was building between her and Brennan.

She prodded him with a few more questions about Carmen’s case and got off the phone. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in the commons of the clinic, watching television with two of the other residents; one elderly woman who constantly mumbled under her breath something about squirrels, and a thirty-something woman who spoke only in questions. Shyla found their presence comforting and non-threatening. They didn’t expect anything from her and they didn’t know anything about her past.

Visiting hours ended at eight, but the staff was more than understanding and didn’t bother Brennan or Clara. When he finally joined her in the commons area, she was glad to see him, realizing that she had been worried about him.

“She drifted off a little while ago,” he said, “before she went to sleep, I told her we’d drop by in the morning before we headed home. You ready to go?”

“And miss out on the rest of the Nick at Night marathon?”

He gave a tired chuckle.

“I guess I can leave you here then,” he said, “you blend right in with the rest of the residents anyway.”

“Uh, oh,” Shyla laughed, “you’ve been hanging out with me too long. Watch out, sarcasm is contagious.”

She stood up and plucked the keys from his grip.

“I’ll drive. You’re tired.”

“I’m okay,” he said, following her down the hall and out the front door.

“No you’re not,” Shyla snickered, “you look pale and wiped out. It’s been a long day, you haven’t eaten since around noon, you’ve been on an emotional roller-coaster, and it’s late. I took the liberty to book us a room at an Inn down the road and I’ve got a roast beef sandwich with your name on it in the car.”

She paused before opening the driver side door.

“When do you need your next supplement?”

Brennan shook his head and looked out into the dark parking lot then back at her. “Thanks, Shyla.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure if you liked roast beef but I figured you weren’t the picky type.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m grateful for that too, but I’m talking about everything else- for coming, for understanding, for being you.”

“You really aren’t feeling well,” she said waving him off and sliding into the car.

Later that night, when they were in the Inn, she watched quietly as he slid the needle into his vein and started his infusion. She sensed that he was uncomfortable, so she retreated to the bathroom to wash up and slip into yoga pants and a t-shirt.

When she emerged, he was finished and his equipment was cleaned up. They were both exhausted. She climbed into the queen bed that was next to the window while he took his turn in the bathroom.

Steam rolled out when he stepped into the room. He was wearing only a pair of sweats. She watched his agile form move as he flicked off all lights except the one next to her bedside. Instead of going to his own bed, he walked to the other side of hers and slipped under the covers.

“I reserved a room with two beds for a reason,” she said, rolling towards him.

Leaning up on one elbow, his bare chest still hot from the shower, he reached out and caressed her brow, then ran his finger down the side of her cheek.

“We’ve had a long day, a long week, a long life,” he said, “I don’t think either of us want to sleep alone tonight. I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to, Shyla. I just want to hold on to someone as I go to sleep.”

The thought of being so close to him, sleeping with him, made her heart quicken. “Someone, huh?” She teased, grasping for one last attempt at humor because she was quickly loosing her footing as he caressed her skin.

He gave a tired smile.

“Not just someone. You.”

The way he was looking into her rather than at her, made her feel vulnerable. “Fine,” she said turning away and reaching for the light, “but I hope you don’t snore, or else I’ll put a pillow over your face.”

Before she could flip the switch on her lamp, he softly grabbed her arm and turned her back toward him.

“Don’t turn it off,” he said, “not yet. I want to look at you.”

No wise cracks came to mind. No curt dismissals or funny quips were at the tip of her tongue. She was speechless as his soft green gaze roamed over her face. When he reached around and gently tugged her hair tie loose, she let him. She felt the weight of her hair as it fell around her face but her eyes never left his. She’d never imagined that she would feel so amazing in the presence of a man, so alive and sensual, yet so safe.

Unable to resist, she mimicked his movements and reached up to touch his face. His jaw was rough with fresh stubble and his skin was still warm from the shower.

She thought that he might kiss her but he didn’t. Instead, he reached across her and turned off the light before pulling her tight against his chest. He held her snug and she felt his muscles slowly relax and his breath grow shallow. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or frustrated. Now that he was asleep, she realized how much she had wanted him to kiss her.

Her thoughts were scattered and her body was still responding to his, but there he was, sleeping. Ugh, she wanted to slap him. But he had been right; they had both had a long week. It took close to thirty minutes, but she finally felt herself given in to the fatigue and the comfort of his embrace.

She was disorientateded when she opened her eyes and didn’t recognize where she was right away. It was dark and she was in unfamiliar territory. Brennan’s arms pulled her close.

“Shh, its okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Two-seventeen in the morning. Still a long time before dawn.

“You were having a bad dream,” he said.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No. I’ve been awake for awhile.”

She turned toward him. There was a sobering intensity to his tone and a tension in his body that alerted her.

“Is it your mother?” she asked, “are you worried about her?”

Brennan was on his back staring up at the dark ceiling.

“No. I mean, yes,” he sighed, “I am worried about her, but that’s not why I can’t sleep. I…”

Shyla held her breath as she waited for him to finish his sentence.

“I’m dying Shyla.”

Her heart stopped beating.

“What?” she said in a breathless gasp.

“I’m dying. I only have maybe four to six months left to live.”

He said it with such calm, such conviction. She wondered why he wasn’t screaming at the top of his lungs like she wanted to do. Shyla sat up and stared down at him in the dark.

“No. Don’t say that, Brennan. It’s not funny.”

He turned toward her and she could barely make out the soft look in his eyes.

“It’s the truth. One of the men who were behind the scenes at the institute called me a while back and told me that they not only modified my body to rely on blood infusions, but to rely on their specific cocktail of infusions. Apparently, my body requires a special protein in order to synthesize the infusions or else I begin to…well, to die.”

She knew he was speaking the truth. Hadn’t she seen it in the way he seemed so tired, so worn out? Chalking it up to stress, she’d ignored it, but now she couldn’t deny the truth.

“No, no, no,” she was shaking her head. It was the only thing she could do. There was no way to process or accept the horror of what she was hearing. How could this be happening to her? First Carmen, now Brennan. How could they leave her?

“We can get help. There are doctors who can fix this.”

“I can’t go looking for help, Shyla. If anyone found out who I am, what I am, they would lock me up forever. I’d be another guinea pig, in another hospital. I can’t do that.”

“But you have to,” Shyla said, desperate, “you just found your mother. It would kill her if you left again. And I…I…I can’t…”

She couldn’t go on. She bent down and pressed her cheek to his chest, giving into the tears. Brennan wrapped his arms around her and held on while she let it all go.

When her crying ebbed, there was still so much emotion, but no words which would fill the void. She moved over him and brushed her lips over his. They were soft and ready for her. He opened his mouth and lightly explored hers with slow, luscious flicks of his tongue. A flush rushed over her skin. Everything came alive inside of her body all at once.

“I want you, Brennan. I want you to touch me and don’t stop touching me until I say stop.”

In one swift move, Brennan ran his strong hands into her hair, cupped her head and rolled her to her back. He was over her, plundering her mouth with a kiss so hungry that she almost feared he would devour her. She kept up with his avarice and met him with equal passion, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him as tight against her as possible.

He kissed her face, her neck, and down to her breasts. She pulled her shirt over her head and let him feast on her body, delighting in the new sensations.

“I’ve wanted you from the very beginning Shyla. It nearly drove me crazy to think of you with Victor.”

“Shh,” she said, grasping his head and forcing him to look her in the eyes, “I’m right here, right now. That’s all that matters.”

“I can’t wait anymore,” he said. His voice was raspy with passion.

She reached down and pulled off her sweats and panties.

“I don’t want you to wait.”

He sat back on his heels while she pulled off her remaining clothes. She lay there naked before him, waiting. He looked her up and down and she didn’t feel dirty. She felt beautiful. Although he had said he couldn’t wait, he took his time. First, he kissed her bare ankles and, torturously slowly, trailed his way up her thighs. Her muscles quivered under the texture of his soft, pliant lips. As he teased her with his tongue, she wanted to scream and beg for release as the tension within her built to levels she had never before experienced.

“Please, Brennan,” she pleaded, but he didn’t stop. He kept loving her body until finally her muscles quaked and shivered in its climactic release. Before her body recovered he lifted himself up over her and looked into her face. Completely undone, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. She knew he was waiting for her to invite him in. With a lift of her hips, she brought him with her over the next wave.