“How big is this place anyway?” Owen asks, closing the door behind us. She doesn’t reply but climbs the flight of stairs leading to another door at the top. She opens that with a different key and stops in the doorway.
“Back when Atticus first started the gym and the Elite program, he had an idea to house the participants. He started converting this space into dormitories.” She walks down the hallway, flipping on lights. Rooms shoot off of each side. Six in all. They’re not big, but adequate for a single or bunk beds. A bit further on, she turns on the lights to a larger room.
“A game room?” Owen asks, walking directly over to a pool table. He grabs a stick off the rack on the wall. “You had a game room the whole time and never said anything.”
“I know it sounds stupid, but I forgot about it,” she says, shrugging. “We never came up here. Atticus started the program before he took me in. Once I started living with him, he felt like he didn’t have time to pursue this angle of the program.”
The room is the width of the building. A pool and foosball table are on one side. Several couches are on the other. A massive TV hangs on the wall and several video game consoles rest underneath. All are outdated but look to be in good condition.
“Come on,” she says, and Owen hangs the pool stick back on the rack. Quinn walks next to her and pushes open a door.
“Kitchen?”
“Yep, and a dining area.” She points to a long table that will easily seat twelve. “Then there’s also this.”
Quinn walks to the open space at the opposite end of the building. Mats cover the floor and walls. There’s a rack of weights and dumbbells. “Is this a training room?”
“It was supposed to be. It’s not totally finished but it’s usable.”
“This is amazing,” Owen says. “The whole thing—it’s twice as big as your apartment.”
“Yeah,” she says. “And even more private. I’m thinking maybe we can start training up here—testing our powers.”
Quinn raises his eyebrow. He doesn’t like the idea of her using Pixie Dust again, but a safe place to experiment? It’s not a bad idea.
“So what do you think?” she asks them both.
“I think training up here is a great idea,” Owen says. “Also, I’d be down with having my own room. Or you know, a bed.”
“It may take a little work getting it cleaned up and furnished, but yeah, you can totally stay up here.”
“Awesome,” he breaks into a grin. “Because the couch was nice and everything, but I could use a little space. Also? I need a door to keep your cat away from me at night.”
Astrid frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“Harry stares at me at night. He comes in and just watches me. It’s freaking me out.”
She and Quinn share a look, her eyes wide with amusement, and she bursts out laughing. “Dude, it’s a cat.”
“Yes, and he’s always freaked me out. Even when we were kids, he would attack my feet when I walked by the porch.”
“Wait, what?” Quinn asks. Owen stops and blinks. “What did you say about the cat?”
“I said that even when we were kids…”
“You remember Harry from the group home?” Astrid asks.
“Yeah, uh…” His face pales. “I remember the backyard and Harry as a kitten. And the screen door when it slammed shut. Shit, shit.” He clutches his head. “I remember that kid with the fireball and the one lifting weights.”
“Junior and Devin,” Quinn says.
“Junior! He was in the garage in the memory I had with Demetria.” Owen faces him, fingers still tugging at his hair. “I remember you fucking with the lights. Setting off all the alarms.”
Astrid stands between them, clenching her hands into tight fists. It’s clear she’s agitated but it’s probably from the wave of emotions coming off of Owen. Even Quinn can feel it.
“You okay?” Quinn asks, putting his hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t acknowledge him, instead keeps her focus on Owen.
“Do you remember me?” she asks.
Owen shakes his head. “No.”
The information leaves her visibly shaken.
“It’ll come,” Quinn tells her, pulling her in for a hug. He smiles at Owen. “Who knew a cat would be the thing to bring your memory back?”
“Trauma, probably,” he jokes. “I think it’s going to take me a minute to process all of this.”
Overwhelmed, Owen walks down the hall, poking around the game room and empty bedrooms. Quinn hasn’t taken his arm from around Astrid’s shoulders, but when the other man is far enough away he says, “What’s bothering you so much? I’m sure the memory will come. His brain my not be able to handle any more right now.”
She walks into the kitchen and opens cabinets, checking to see what’s inside. They’re mostly stocked with pots, pans, and whatever else people would need. She leans against the counter and crosses her arms.
“I guess I wanted to feel that connection like I have with you and Casper. The fact our relationship goes back so far—that our experiences were similar.” He’s standing inches away, almost pinning her to the counter. She splays her right hand over his heart, which she has made clear always races when he’s near her. “It’s hard not having bonds with people. No family. No long-term friends. But what we have is special, like really special, and I just want to have that with him too.”
He wraps his hand around her slim waist. “Today was progress. He does remember and soon he’ll get a vision of that scrawny girl in three hats and wonder how the hell he ever forgot.”
She tilts her head and smiles. “I wasn’t that scrawny.”
“You were ridiculously small. A brisk wind could blow you away.” He presses his forehead to hers. “I think you wore all those clothes to weigh you down.”
His hips are against hers, and there’s no denying his attraction to her. She does this to him, makes him hard and unbelievably horny. Astrid’s body responds, her nipples peaking under her shirt. He sighs. Having Owen around in that small apartment makes it hard to find a chance to be together.
“Maybe we should all move up here,” he says. “Give us all a little more space.”
“You think?”
“You want to build connections? Increase your power?” He bends his head and kisses her slow, hoping to give her a little reassurance. “A little one-on-one time between all of us is more likely to happen up here, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Owen says from the door. They both look up in surprise, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I really do. But I have one request?”
“What’s that?” Astrid makes no attempt to move away from Quinn and smiles at the man in the door.
“For the love of god, do not bring that cat up here. I can’t take it.”
Chapter Twenty
Astrid
The cold air burns her lungs and her muscles are tight, but the blue sky overhead is worth the discomfort.
She had to get out of that building.
After two more days of media circus, Quinn placed Mick at the front entrance of the gym. Once it’s clear she’s not doing any more interviews and they’re not getting past her new guard, the reporters give up. It doesn’t hurt, Casper tells her, that the President threatened to bomb an ally country, giving Astrid a reprieve and the media a new focus.
With Quinn and Owen busy working on their new living and training quarters, and Astrid’s new recruit class not starting for another few weeks, she decided it was time to stop hiding and get some fresh air.
She’s finishing up her second down the Harbor Line when a silver car slows beside her. Dammit, she thinks, if a reporter steps out of that car or a camera flashes in her face, Jensen will have to use his leverage to get her out of jail.
Because she’s not holding back.
At the end of the block she gets in a tight spot, forced to either wait to cross a busy road or turn back. Neither is a good option with the car idling next to her. If only she had Quinn with her so he could mess up the cross walk. With her eyes away from the car, she decides to turn around and run back down the road.