04-04-2019, 01:16 PM
She didn’t dream. She didn’t even remember falling asleep.
A soft hand on her shoulder roused her from dark trenches. The previous night’s emotions had calcified to something cold and grey, and she felt reanimated rather than awoken. The weight remained, inescapable, but there didn’t seem much left to feel in the cold grasp of a new day. At least until she rolled to check her wallet, and her tired mind automatically calculated the chasm of time passed since the diner. How long they had had him now.
Whatever emotion stirred, it was pressed down. Her hands ran over her head as she shoved herself up. Faint surprise acknowledged the fact Marcus had replied already, but it would have to wait for now; Cayli scooted close, gripping Natalie’s arm. “There was a knock,” she whispered. She’d pulled the hoodie back on, the hood tugged up around her pale face. Her eyes looked swollen despite the shadows, but there was no comfort Natalie could offer that wouldn’t also be a lie.
“It’s Jensen,” she murmured assurance, though she was only guessing. She pressed her hand over Cayli’s, squeezed gently until the girl’s grip eased, but she still retrieved the gun as she shifted from the bed. The power floated a hair’s breadth from submission, but neither protection was needed when the door opened. Little relief stirred despite the welcome face. Concern pinched his brow, and if she’d had room for the emotion, guilt might have sunk her mood lower. Natalie didn’t balk from using others when it suited her, but Jensen seemed too kind a creature to have caught in such tangled webs. She needed him all the same, though. Her gaze made a weary scan of the landing beyond before she let him in.
No energy spared itself for niceties. She had little idea whether the conversation would be truly private despite the closed door, but it was her least concern in a long queue of risks. “Your wife’s head of security served alongside Jay at the time this whole mess started. He offered to secure a cartel contact that Jay accepted in the hope of information.” Little inflected the words. Numbness wrapped the details she couldn’t afford to let spill like weakness. Jensen had never questioned her investment. Natalie barely questioned it herself. “Axel let Cayli hide in the back of the car, knowing where he was going. They don’t just want him, Jensen; they want her too. For what he did.” She paused to allow the coldness of that to settle. The bite of an accusation stung, but it was not aimed at him. “Jay told me to get Cayli to the Custody if things went wrong.”
Her gaze pierced. If he was going to recoil from the responsibility, now was the time to do it. She wondered how much, if anything, Jensen knew of the wider circumstance. How much would Jessika confide in an estranged husband? He was an asset she couldn’t afford to ignore even if the bonds of their marriage were questionable, but it was the ties of oath and loyalty that shifted unease in Natalie’s gut. She was certain of his good intentions, but sometimes all that meant was just enough rope for hanging.
“Cayli’s parents are unlikely to listen to anything I have to say. But they might listen if the idea came from you. You must have met Marcus DuBois when you were in Moscow? I’ve asked him to help us secure asylum for the Carpenters. Jay’s a turncoat in America’s eyes. If it’s believed his family have been targeted as a result? Well, given the current political climate, I imagine certain quarters will have an invested interest in how the Custody protects defectors to its cause.” A sense of morbidity sharpened the words; awareness of the ghostly front lines of a war they had found themselves embroiled in, a war she had little interest in assisting. “Cover this in enough red tape, and Amengual will find it more difficult to act without jeopardising other ambitions.”
Cayli watched silent from the bed, legs tucked up, arms wrapped around her knees. Her cheeks were wet again, but her brows were daggered low now. “We can’t leave until we find my brother.”
Natalie's jaw pinched, but silence answered. Her arms folded, seeking the pillar of the wall to prop her up, and her gaze turned away. Maybe it was better for Cayli to believe the coldness masked nothing emotional beneath, though a spike of pain punctured her chest all the same; that Cayli believed she had even the slightest intention of abandoning Jay to the consequences of his stupidity. The defensiveness curled tight, seeking no outlet. She needed Jensen's help, first.
A soft hand on her shoulder roused her from dark trenches. The previous night’s emotions had calcified to something cold and grey, and she felt reanimated rather than awoken. The weight remained, inescapable, but there didn’t seem much left to feel in the cold grasp of a new day. At least until she rolled to check her wallet, and her tired mind automatically calculated the chasm of time passed since the diner. How long they had had him now.
Whatever emotion stirred, it was pressed down. Her hands ran over her head as she shoved herself up. Faint surprise acknowledged the fact Marcus had replied already, but it would have to wait for now; Cayli scooted close, gripping Natalie’s arm. “There was a knock,” she whispered. She’d pulled the hoodie back on, the hood tugged up around her pale face. Her eyes looked swollen despite the shadows, but there was no comfort Natalie could offer that wouldn’t also be a lie.
“It’s Jensen,” she murmured assurance, though she was only guessing. She pressed her hand over Cayli’s, squeezed gently until the girl’s grip eased, but she still retrieved the gun as she shifted from the bed. The power floated a hair’s breadth from submission, but neither protection was needed when the door opened. Little relief stirred despite the welcome face. Concern pinched his brow, and if she’d had room for the emotion, guilt might have sunk her mood lower. Natalie didn’t balk from using others when it suited her, but Jensen seemed too kind a creature to have caught in such tangled webs. She needed him all the same, though. Her gaze made a weary scan of the landing beyond before she let him in.
No energy spared itself for niceties. She had little idea whether the conversation would be truly private despite the closed door, but it was her least concern in a long queue of risks. “Your wife’s head of security served alongside Jay at the time this whole mess started. He offered to secure a cartel contact that Jay accepted in the hope of information.” Little inflected the words. Numbness wrapped the details she couldn’t afford to let spill like weakness. Jensen had never questioned her investment. Natalie barely questioned it herself. “Axel let Cayli hide in the back of the car, knowing where he was going. They don’t just want him, Jensen; they want her too. For what he did.” She paused to allow the coldness of that to settle. The bite of an accusation stung, but it was not aimed at him. “Jay told me to get Cayli to the Custody if things went wrong.”
Her gaze pierced. If he was going to recoil from the responsibility, now was the time to do it. She wondered how much, if anything, Jensen knew of the wider circumstance. How much would Jessika confide in an estranged husband? He was an asset she couldn’t afford to ignore even if the bonds of their marriage were questionable, but it was the ties of oath and loyalty that shifted unease in Natalie’s gut. She was certain of his good intentions, but sometimes all that meant was just enough rope for hanging.
“Cayli’s parents are unlikely to listen to anything I have to say. But they might listen if the idea came from you. You must have met Marcus DuBois when you were in Moscow? I’ve asked him to help us secure asylum for the Carpenters. Jay’s a turncoat in America’s eyes. If it’s believed his family have been targeted as a result? Well, given the current political climate, I imagine certain quarters will have an invested interest in how the Custody protects defectors to its cause.” A sense of morbidity sharpened the words; awareness of the ghostly front lines of a war they had found themselves embroiled in, a war she had little interest in assisting. “Cover this in enough red tape, and Amengual will find it more difficult to act without jeopardising other ambitions.”
Cayli watched silent from the bed, legs tucked up, arms wrapped around her knees. Her cheeks were wet again, but her brows were daggered low now. “We can’t leave until we find my brother.”
Natalie's jaw pinched, but silence answered. Her arms folded, seeking the pillar of the wall to prop her up, and her gaze turned away. Maybe it was better for Cayli to believe the coldness masked nothing emotional beneath, though a spike of pain punctured her chest all the same; that Cayli believed she had even the slightest intention of abandoning Jay to the consequences of his stupidity. The defensiveness curled tight, seeking no outlet. She needed Jensen's help, first.