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What hadn’t changed is the vacant look in her eyes. It’s like she’s not all there behind the veil. I have no doubt because, in part, of the drugs. Or maybe part of her is still disassociating from everything she experienced.
“And you’re Apostle, right?”
Instead of narrowing my eyes at her, which would be my normal reaction, I keep facial features frozen in a neutral mask. It’s worked well for me in the past. And I don’t think pushing her away will help her right now.
She’s in need of support and understanding.
“Yeah,” I grunt, “I’m Apostle.
Before I know what is happening, her hands are wrapped around my bicep and she’s practically clinging to me. I clench my jaw, fighting against the instinct to shake her off.
I hate her touch, but she needs to trust someone around here and I’m the one who rescued her. It makes sense that she would try and cling to me because of that.
“Thank you so much, Apostle,” she gushes.
I swear she pouts a little in some attempt to make her lips look more luscious. Before I roar at her and tell her not to touch me, I have to remind myself that she has no idea I have an old lady at home.
I shake my arm a little, but she doesn’t take the hint. My eyes dart around the room wildly, looking for anyone who might be able to help me out of this. The longer Tara is touching me, the more my skin crawls at the contact.
With a harder shake, I try to dislodge her grip. But the woman won’t budge.
The moment Cherise comes back out to the common room from the kitchen, she notices the pleading look I’m sending her way. She approaches us slowly and with caution and I’m not sure if it’s because of me or the girl who is acting like a leech’s best friend.
I need her to stop touching me. The longer she does it, the angrier I’m getting.
But at the same time, I can understand her actions. I’m the one who carried her to safety last night and killed the man who was using her like she wasn’t even a human being. No one should have to endure that kind of treatment.
My hero.
Her words from last night echo in my head. I want to shrink away from them. Because they aren’t true. I was only doing the right thing and I would do it again.
I’m not a fucking hero. I was just the muscle, and she was just a victim in the path that we needed to take for vengeance. Anyone could have been the one in that room. Or it could have been empty.
“Tara,” Cherise’s voice is gentle, “I think Apostle is late for a meeting with the Prez.”
I kept my voice gentle, “I am. You should get some more rest.” The hopeful look in Tara’s eyes had me wondering what Sioux would do in this situation and what she would want me to do. My kind Firefly, who had tears in her eyes last night when I told her about the drug house and the forced prostitution had me strengthening my resolve. “I’ll come and check on you afterward, okay?”
Tara started nodding her head enthusiastically and giving me a bright smile, one that I found myself returning. When I shot Cherise a grateful look, the sharp one she gave me in return had me confused. She didn’t look happy, but I didn’t have the time to unravel it right now.
I gave both women a chin lift before turning around and heading toward Lucifer’s office. I’m sure I’m the last one to arrive. Again.
“He’s so fucking hot,” I could have sworn I heard Tara say, but I wasn’t close and could have heard wrong.
The thought of her being attracted to me had the hair on the back of my neck standing on edge and not in a good way. I would never go there. Not when I just got Sioux to open her heart to me after I’ve been patient for so damn long.
Nothing will get in the way of the future I’m supposed to have with my woman. Still, I can be a source of support for Tara. At least until we figure out what her next steps should be. It’s possible she has a family out there who could be better to help her through this.
When I enter Lucifer’s office, his head snaps up and I can see the bone-deep exhaustion written all over his face. Hacker is in the corner staring intently at his tablet and the rest of the inner circle are slumped down in various seats.
The weight of what we did last night as well as what is still in front of us is suddenly heavy on my shoulders and I slump. Instead of taking up my normal position by the door, I choose a seat and let out a grunt as I sit. No one says anything or seems all that surprised.
“We should probably move this into Church to have more room,” Lucifer muses.
“Yeah,” Hacker adds offhandedly, “then I can hook up what I’ve found to the TVs and show everyone at the same time.”
He stands and starts moving toward the door, not bothering to notice if anyone is following him. I’m not surprised, Hacker can be very driven, and laser focused when he’s buried himself in a specific task. Tack watches our brother leave the room and huffs out a sound of displeasure.
“He’s not taking care of himself. I had to wrestle him for that damn tablet this morning so he would eat something,” Tack complains.
