ARC10

Chapter 4.3

Bright-blue eyes shaded by tendrils of long, black hair hamper my entrance. Kai leans against the light metal door of the women's locker room. His smile curves into a smirk as he watches my approach with sniper trained eyes. On him it's more endearing than worrisome.

"Never seen you before, then you show up two days in a row? This must be some kind of cosmic miracle." I laugh at my own joke.

Kai pivots aside to let me pass. "I wanted to find out how you were holding up."

"Couldn't be better, actually." I sweep past, hold up my PAHLM at the reader on the wall, and wait for the door to slide open. When I enter the room, one glance around tells me the place is empty. We're totally alone.

I grab fresh clothes from my locker and stare at him expectantly. "You know, you're in the girls' room," I say with a limp smile, hoping he realizes I'm joking with him.

He laughs lightly and sits on the bench, picking up a towel I had just dropped and wraps it around his fist a few times in purposelessness. "What do you think they see in us?"

I lean against the lockers. "Honestly? No idea. I wondered, too."

The pause drags as we rummage around in our own thoughts.

After a few seconds, I fill the awkward silence. I think aloud while grabbing the remaining shower items from inside the locker. "How many of your commanding officers did you see at the table last night? I saw none. I didn't see Sarge, and I sure as hell didn't see any of our majors there either. Maybe she picked the people who have the biggest reasons to leave."

My voice echoes through my locker, and I hope it sounds a little stronger than what I hear.

"Yeah, maybe. But, whatever it is they saw, I'm sure you'll live up to it. I've heard things about you, Captain Janika Lorn—psychotic Reaper, maniacal rule-breaker, vigilante nutjob." He steps behind me, the heat from his body warming the air around me. "Really, really, really good things about you. Your reputation goes way beyond your own battalion."

His breath tickles my neck, pushing against the small hairs as he continues to talk. I'm more focused on that breath than any of his bullshit flattery.

"I've always been . . . an admirer of yours, I guess. It's lame, I know, but I just wanted you t'know."

The heat of his words pours a chill down my arm despite the heat permeating from the shower steam still wafting in the air. His body presses behind me. His lips hover inches from my ear.

"I'm sure I'll see you again." He turns to leave.

His boots tap to the exit. Behind me, I hear the locker room door slide open, but I don't hear the soft rap of his departure. Out of the corner of my eye, I find Kai stopped at the doorway, face-to-chest with none other than Dean.

"Is he bothering you, Nika?" Dean enunciates right over the top of Kai's head as if speaking over an insignificant piece of the furniture in the room.

Kai is nothing to scoff at. Though he is shorter, his arms and chest are large. Scars have yet to mar his face. His ragged, black whiskers draw thick shadows over his jaw. His eyes are the deepest cerulean I've ever seen. He might be what I want if I were ever to be given a choice in the matter. But I guess I'll never know.

"No. He was just leaving." I return my attention to arranging my locker. I look at my PAHLM and panic. I have to be at The Sink in less than thirty minutes for my shift. At this point, their little dog-and-pony show needs to hit the Rotunda. "And so should you, Dean. I have to go." I fling my shirt over my head.

Dean steps between me and Kai. His gargantuan body blocks me.

A brief moment resonates between the two men—Dean glowers at Kai, and Kai scowls at Dean. A poignant message is being sent and received—dangerous and primal from the outside, nothing our PALHMs could transmit or translate. Something beyond binary forms and spoken words. Silent and significant. I don't have time for it.