05 Desperate Match Read online

  He stared at her. “Fuck. You.” He turned to leave with every intention of finding Shep and Doctor Wise to tell them to get Jill the hell off campus. As his hand reached the doorknob he turned to apologize for cursing at her or maybe curse some more. He didn’t know. But Jill had turned her back and was bent over hunting for her discarded T–shirt, and it gave him a good view of a dark purple bruise on her back roughly over her kidneys.

  “What the fuck?” He reclosed the door and spun back into the room. He stalked over to Jill and tugged the pink T–shirt out of her hands. “What the hell happened to you?” He turned her gently in his arm and touched the bruise with one fingertip.

  “Nothing. Give me my shirt.” Her nails dug into the skin on his forearm as she tried to grab back her shirt. He tried to hand it to her, frowning at the unexpected turn this meeting had taken, but she’d already given up on the T–shirt and turned for her sweater.

  “Tell me what’s really going on here.”

  She shoved. “No. I’m leaving. You’ll get your wish. You don’t ever have to see me again.” She withdrew back into herself, grabbing her cardigan and putting the itchy–looking thing on over her bare skin. Ashamed, he handed her the shirt and she shoved it in her over–stuffed backpack on the floor near the side table.

  “Jill,” he tried again. “Something’s going on. Maybe we’re not a match, but it seems like you might need a friend.” She didn’t respond and hefted the heavy backpack over one shoulder. She didn’t try to hide the wince as the bag landed hard against her back. She stepped toward the door, but he backed up faster, blocking it.

  “Rowan, move.”

  “No.”

  She pushed at him and then backpedaled several steps as if shocked she’d dared manhandle someone several inches and pounds larger than her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye. He hated scaring her like this, because it was suddenly obvious Jill had too much experience with a man pushing her around. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let her leave without offering to help.

  Jill stood outside of striking range from the tall soldier looming over her. Though if he were going to retaliate, she’d have nowhere to go in this tiny room. She could tell he was fast. He’d catch her if she tried to blow past him and out the door, out of the compound and back to the car she’d left by the side of the road three miles away when it had run out of gas. Her panties held fifty precious dollars in a Ziploc on her right butt cheek. It was uncomfortable as hell, but she hadn’t known if they’d allow her to keep her backpack full of clothes when she came onto The Program campus.

  It was everything she had in the world.

  “Jill,” Rowan said, trying to get her to talk to him. There was no point. He was correct; nothing good was going to come of this meeting. She was such a fool. She’d bet the farm on finding her safety net at The Program and now her net had snapped. She didn’t know where to go or what to do next. “Jill, are you in trouble?”

  If his voice hadn’t been so kind, maybe she could’ve ignored his question. She could scream for help, march out of the campus and keep marching. Food, shelter, money—all those petty problems—could be dealt with later. But Rowan’s voice was kind, sympathetic. Even with his disabled body, he looked strong and capable, and his face was handsomer than any other man she’d ever met.

  She stumbled backward onto the couch and curled up with her arms wrapped around her legs. She was so screwed. By now, Jack would know the car was missing, and he’d guess that she’d tried to run away. Either she was in for the beating of her life, or she’d have to find a safe haven with the clothes on her back and fifty dollars in a plastic baggie.

  Rowan pulled up the chair and straddled it close enough so they could whisper to each other, but not enough that she felt threatened. “Jill, who hit you?” he asked.

  She rested her chin on her knees and looked him in the eye. “My husband,” she whispered.

  Silence.

  “You’re married?”

  She nodded.

  “You applied to The Program to be matched to a soldier even though you’re married?”

  She forced herself to nod again, knowing and hating what kind of person her admission made her.

  Rowan surprised her when he pursed his lips. “Must be pretty desperate, huh?”

  A half–sob, half–laugh forced its way out of her mouth. “Yeah. You could say that.” She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve, then noted the box of tissues on the little table next to her. She grabbed up a handful. “You must think I’m a horrible person. I mean, what kind of woman tries to”—she fluttered a hand at him—“have sex with a stranger when she’s already legally married?”

  “A woman who thought she had no other option,” he said.

  The dam on her sobs broke, and for long minutes she huddled on the couch crying six years’ worth of pain. Rowan let her. At some point, he moved next to her on the couch, rubbing her back and handing her fresh tissues when he deemed it necessary.

  Finally when she thought she could breathe again without crying, she wadded up the soggy tissues and hid them in her lap.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded, then thought of her situation. “Probably not. I may be worse off than ever.”

  “Nah. Today was your lucky day.”

  She glanced at him sideways. “What are you talking about? My husband is going to kill me.”

  “Your husband is never going to see or touch you again.” His voice was harsh and scary, and she shivered.

  “How are you going to stop him?”

  “I got nearly seventy–five genetically enhanced soldiers at my back, not to mention a ten– foot wall stopping him. You’re safe, Jill.”

  A watery smile found its way to her face. “Rowan, that’s unbelievably sweet, but we’re not a match. I can’t stay here.”

  “Who says we’re not a match?” he asked. “You’re not in an emotional state to start looking for husband number two. Maybe we are a match. Who knows? The lab junkies around here think we’re a match.”

  She stared at him trying to believe in his words, but after six years of disappointment, it was hard to believe in anything. “But the forms. All the paperwork I read and signed said I’d only be allowed to stay if I’m matched to an active soldier.”

  “So we’ll match.” He shrugged. “You’ll stay on as my match.”

  “But I’m legally married.”

  “Then we’ll legally unmarry you. We got lawyers. We’ll send that bastard husband of yours the paperwork.”

  “He’ll never sign them,” she said bitterly. “And I don’t have money to pay a lawyer.”

  “Jill, you’re not listening. You’re going to be my match. We’ve got lawyers.”

  She stared at him where he sat a foot away on the slightly itchy sofa. “Why would you do this? I’m a stranger to you.”

  He smiled wryly. “My mom would kill me if she ever found out I let a woman go back to an abusive husband. ‘Course I gotta help.”

  “Your mother must be an amazing woman. I hope I get to meet her to thank her,” she said, still disbelieving that this man would help her with no benefit to himself.

  “She’s dead,” he said. “But I do this in her memory.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” She sat straighter suddenly. Her own parents…they’d be worried. “I have to call mine. They’re going to freak out if Jack tells them I’m missing.”

  Rowan frowned. “If your parents are alive and the kind to worry, why didn’t they help you escape your husband?”

  The million–dollar question. “My father is ill. They moved to Florida a few years ago. I had no way of getting to them, and Jack—that’s my husband—would’ve come after me. I didn’t want them getting hurt because of me.”

  “Did they ever see your bruises?”

  She shook her head. “No. I hid them at first because I was embarrassed, and then my dad got sick and I hid them because there was nothing
they could do.”

  “Are you sure? They wouldn’t have helped?”

  “They would’ve, but they never liked that I married Jack right after high school. I could’ve gone to college, but I thought I could be married and go to college also.” She snorted slightly. “Stupid teenager. I wish my parents had refused to let me marry Jack.”

  “Would you have listened?” Rowan asked. “You were eighteen, right? No doubt you woulda run off and done what you wanted. True?”

  “Probably,” she admitted. “But I can’t let you do this.” She put her hand on his arm and looked him in the eye. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but we’re strangers. It’s too much.”

  He glanced down at her hand still on his arm. “You were fine using me as your shield when I didn’t know I was being a shield, but now it’s not okay when I have all the facts?” He sounded angry. She removed her hand from his body. “Is this why my missing arm bothers you? You think I’m not strong enough to defend you from your husband?”

  Her lips tightened and she nodded. Her fingernails dug into the nubby beige material of the sofa. “I’m sorry.”

  “One arm or two arms, I’m still stronger than any man who gets off beating a woman.”

  “Jack’s pretty strong,” she said. “He’s a plumber and has to lift stuff all day.”

  “Has he trained in the military?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m stronger. And if I’m not, my brother is.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Yeah. He’s two years older.”

  “Is he matched?”

  “Yep. Nice girl. Loren. Their wedding is in a two weeks. We’ll get you a dress. I’m assuming there’s no fancy dress shoved into that backpack of yours.”

  She found her first smile of the day. “Nope. But I won’t need a dress. I can’t stay.”

  His face hardened. “Really? What are your options? The way I see it, you can either go back to your rat–bastard husband and die an early death, or you can keep running, always looking over your shoulder. And where you gonna work? You said you didn’t go to college, right? Have you worked since high school? How strong is your resume?”

  “You’re being cruel,” she said, wrapping her arms around her waist.

  “I’m being honest. My mom was a runner. Ran from my dad with a toddler and a newborn. I know what it was like to grow up poor, with a mother scared her husband would find her. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

  “Your dad beat your mom?” she asked, suddenly scared she’d landed in a place that condoned the vile behavior.

  “No. She ran for other reasons. Too long a story for today, but if you stay, I’ll tell it to you.”

  She remained silent, trying to think. Rowan was right, she’d been willing to stay and use him as her shield without telling him the truth. Now that he knew her story, why wasn’t she willing to let him protect her?

  “Tell you what. Stay for a little while. Just to get on your feet and until you figure out how to get your husband permanently out of your life.”

  She thought some more then shrugged. If she’d had other options, she would’ve used them. “Okay, but I’m going to pay you back. I promise. I’ll make this up to you somehow.”

  He patted her hand and rose. “All right. We’ll put it on the account book. Now let’s go tell my boss and get you settled in.” He hefted her backpack over his left shoulder easily and she followed him out the door, trying to reconcile the crazy change in her life in the last hour.

  Yesterday morning, she’d been filled with hope and desperation to leave Jack. She hadn’t given much thought to anything other than escape, including what her Program match might be like. Today, life with Jack was blessedly behind her, and she’d stumbled into this new unknown world. Rowan reached the door to the room and opened it. She called after his back, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  He turned back, and she noted a woman in a white lab coat standing outside the room. Her cheeks heated at her outburst, and she braced for Rowan’s anger. He surprised her yet again by laughing. “I know. I’m not gonna sleep with you either. Not until we both want it.” He turned his back and kept walking, expecting her to follow. She did.

  Chapter Three

  She’s not staying.” Shep braced his palms on the surface of his desk, leaning over to emphasize his point. “We’re not a damn halfway house.”

  Rowan fought to remain calm and stared his boss in the eye. “She’s my match, Commander. She stays with me.”

  “Is she? How the hell do you know? We know you didn’t have intercourse.”

  He stood. “That’s my match you’re talking about. Watch your mouth.” His tone remained deceptively calm, but his body language told Shep to watch out.

  “Rowan, sit down.” The command came from his father, also party to the hastily gathered meeting on what to do about Jill.

  “We don’t have extra housing or funding to help runaway wives,” Shep shouted. He sat back down, which Rowan took as a sign that the discussion wasn’t dead in the water.

  “But you would if she were my match,” he said, arguing the point. A knock at the door sounded and it opened before Shep could respond. Rowan’s older brother, Adam, poked his head in and then fully entered the room, leaning back against the now closed office door.

  “Loren and I support Rowan,” he said, crossing his arms over his wide chest.

  “Shut up, Adam. You don’t even know what this is about,” Shep said, practically growling.

  “Don’t care. I got my brother’s back,” Adam said.

  Rowan grinned at him, then turned his serious face back to Shep. “Shep, you didn’t see her back. Covered in bruises.”

  “Actually, I did see her back. Cameras, remember. And I also saw that you pushed her away when she tried to initiate sexual relations.”

  Rowan winced, hating that there’d been people watching his first interactions with his potential match.

  “She’s not your match, Rowan. No matter what the DNA tests read,” Shep said.

  “We don’t know that,” Rowan argued. “Jill’s been in an abusive relationship for six years. She can’t stomach the idea of having sex with anyone. Maybe when she’s calmer someday in the future, we’ll fuck like bunnies.”

  Adam coughed out a laugh, but his father frowned and shot him a look.

  “Sorry, Dad,” he muttered.

  “What am I supposed to tell the media?” Shep asked. “If it gets out that we’re harboring a married woman who is a possible match to one of our soldiers, they’re going to rip us to shreds. They already think we’re playing God. We can’t give them the ammo that we’re breaking up marriages.” He held up a hand. “Don’t talk to me about extenuating circumstances. Those don’t make good sound bites, and Congress is going to hand me my ass on a platter if I let this happen.”

  Rowan glanced at the floor. Maybe Shep was right. Was it really worth putting everything on the line for a woman he’d met that morning? Jill had said it: they were strangers. Why should he help her when she was nothing to him? But then he remembered her shaking hands as she’d tried to pleasure him. And the fading bruises on her back. Yeah, it was worth it. He had to help the woman. He turned to his right. “Dad…” A look passed between them. He and his dad hadn’t always been close. Had in fact spent the last thirty years separated. But if anyone could get Shep to listen, it’d be the commander’s best friend.

  William Blacker sat straighter. “Peter.” Commander Shepard sank back in his chair and silently looked at Rowan’s dad. “Peter, this is the right thing to do. Screw the media. Screw public perception. We were bred to help US citizens. Let’s start with one who needs us most.”

  Rowan’s eyes tracked Shep’s body language as he listened to Dad’s words. He couldn’t tell if the message was getting through. Finally, Shep sighed. “Fine. The woman stays on a trial basis.”

  Rowan jumped up, grinning.

  “She stays with you, Blacker.
In the bachelor apartments. No solo apartment for her. We don’t have the space.”

  He lost his grin. Jill would hate living in his tiny one–room apartment, and he hated that he’d given up his privacy to live with a stranger. “Fine.”

  Adam tried to help. “Shep, they’re not matched yet. You can’t put a woman in there.”

  Rowan used his slightly taller body to maneuver Adam out of the room. “Don’t push it,” he said in an undertone to his brother. “We got more than I expected.” William, Adam, and Rowan circled in the hallway outside Shep’s office. Jill was in the cafeteria with Loren, Adam’s fiancée. He hoped she’d relaxed enough to eat, because she’d been thin to the point of fragile.

  “Thank you, guys,” he said to his dad and brother.

  “No, thank you,” William said.

  “Me? What did I do besides bring a potential shit–storm onto The Program? We’re in enough trouble with the government already. Shep was right, there’s going to be trouble if this story ever goes public.”

  “You reminded us of our mission, of why we exist, so, thank you, Rowan.” William turned to walk away, but not before Rowan saw tears glistening in his dad’s eyes.

  Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go find our women.”

  He grinned and let himself be led to the cafeteria where Jill sat surrounded by several of the women on campus. Loren, Thea, and Beth. All three hovered and fussed over Jill, who looked a bit overwhelmed.

  Adam made a beeline to Loren to kiss the top of her head and squeeze a chair next to her. Rowan didn’t feel the pull to be glued to Jill’s side, but he figured, given the tension surrounding her presence here, he owed it to her to be publicly supportive. He pulled up a chair and squeezed in next to her. He noted there was quite a bit of food left on her plate.

  “Picky eater?” he asked.

  She turned to him. “No. Just not hungry, I guess.”

  He eyed her thin frame. “When was the last time you were hungry?”

  “Six years ago.” She gave a wry half–smile. “I used to love to eat, and I’m a good cook. Jack always says it’s my best feature and the only reason he puts up with me.” The moment the words left her mouth, she turned her face away and let her hair hang down hiding her from his view. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention him again.”