Brody's voice broke into his thoughts.
"The shower is in there, Jordan. Be a good boy, okay?"
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Brody as he shut the door. Jordan heard him curse, then sigh.
Stripping down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Running a hand through his dark, greasy hair, he really studied his reflection.
Stubble covered his angular jaw, his skin pale and drawn. His wide chest tapered down into a slim waist, and the countless sit-ups he'd done had kept his stomach flat and hard. A pink scar about three inches long pinched the skin on the right side of his abdomen where he'd had an emergency appendectomy.
He tried to recall Ava's hands on his body, her gentle fingertips caressing his pectorals as she kissed him.
And he couldn't.
When he shut his eyes, flashes of their wedding night passed behind his lids, but no hard and fast memories. Instead, the images seemed to be made out of smoke, coming together for a brief second, then dissipating as if they'd never existed. Yet, the past year played in his mind as clear as the sky on a summer day. He'd caused so much death and destruction, all in the name of protecting his government for Group Nine.
What a bunch of bullshit he'd swallowed, and it sat in his gut, rotting, morphing into a big helping of guilt.
He turned on the water and rubbed the middle of his chest. It physically hurt that he couldn't remember his life with Ava, but something else brewed within him.
Anger.
Anger slowly rippled through him as he showered, and he didn't try to tamper it down. Instead, he gathered its energy and stored it within him so it would be ready to use when the time came.
And, that time would come. He would destroy everyone who had made him a killer, everyone who had taken Ava away from him.
A loud knock and Brody's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Let's go, Jordan. No jacking off in the shower."
He couldn't help but grin as he glanced down at his thick sex hanging between his legs. The thought had never even occurred to him, even though he hadn't had sex since he'd woken up in that hospital. Yes, he'd come close quite a few times, but something always seemed to stop him. Now, he knew that had been Ava, buried deep in his subconscious, but still holding an influence on him.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the towel and dried off, trying to get his head out of his own feelings and on the facts of what he knew about Group Nine. He had to convince Joe that he'd switched sides, and as of now, Jordan had become his most deadly player.
32
Hours later, Jordan climbed the stairs to Joe's room with Lucas at his back. "My fucking jaw hurts."
Lucas laughed. "Well, you deserved it."
As he considered the things he'd done and said while tripping, he supposed he had. "You didn't need to hit me so hard."
"I wanted to make sure I didn't hear from you again until all that shit was out of your system."
They reached the top landing. A door sat to his right, one to his left. He turned to Lucas. "Where to now?"
He motioned to the right. "Right over there."
After he knocked gently, Joe's muffled voice greeted him. "Come in."
"I'll see you in a bit," Lucas called as he bounded down the stairs.
Opening the door, he glanced around, the bed and a table being the only furniture in the big room on the top floor of the house.
Joe sat at the table, gazing out over the Sound. Jordan heard the faint conversation drifting up from the beach, and looked out the window to see Brody, Garrett, Zachary, and Ruben sitting on the driftwood. A moment later, Lucas joined them.
As he stared down at them, envy and sadness clenched at his chest. At one time, he'd been a part of their group, sharing in their friendship. Now, he still seemed like Enemy Number One with everyone still carrying guns when around him. He fully understood why no one trusted him-he really did. However, it didn't take away the sting of wanting to belong, and not being included. He didn't know how he would gain everyone's trust, but he'd do what he could to make that happen.
"Please, sit down, Jordan."
He took a seat in the only chair at the table. Joe sat across from him with his gun lying on the table, his finger on the trigger.
Joe smiled. "How are things going?"
Considering he'd just survived an LSD trip, he supposed he didn't have much to complain about. "It's going."
Joe nodded, and Jordan couldn't help but notice how tired the man looked. Light purple ringed his eyes, his complexion pale.
"Is everything okay with you?" he asked.
"Yes. Just a lot on my mind, but nothing to concern you with. I wanted to talk with you, to have you tell me everything about Group Nine that you know. I want every detail, even if you think it's not important."
He sat back in the chair and rubbed his forehead, remembering the exact same amount as he did two days ago. "Where do you want me to start?"
"At the beginning. Where did you wake up a year ago? Who was there? What was said to you?"
He nodded, thinking back to that day and recalling it clearly. "I woke up in a hospital-and I'm not even sure what country I was in. My handler, Nicholas, was there. Looking back on it now, I thought it was strange that he was the only one who spoke to me, but then, I was just glad to have a friend because I couldn't remember anything about my past."
"It must have been frightening."
He nodded, thinking that an understatement.
He'd been downright terrified.
When he'd awoken, he couldn't remember his parents, if he had siblings, friends, a significant other … none of it. At that point, he'd even questioned his own name. He'd been alone and scared, and Nicholas had offered him not only a glimpse into his past, which he now realized had been nothing but fabricated bullshit, but a hand in friendship and a path to a future.
When he didn't answer, Joe nodded. "I can see by the haunted look on your face that 'frightening' didn't quite cover the emotions of that time."
"I was pretty beat up physically-a cracked rib, a few burns, lots of bruises, and a huge knot on my forehead. Nicholas told me I had been in an explosion while doing some secret work in Afghanistan, so the injuries seemed to fall right in line with that story."
Joe stared at him a beat over the rim of his glasses. "Yes, the injuries do coincide with the story, but as I've told you, the explosion took place in the jungle of Guatemala. You were a marine working in the recon division looking for information on a drug cartel."
Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe you, Joe. I guess my question is, if the explosion left everyone else in my unit with supernatural abilities, why did it leave me with a blank slate for a brain?"
"I wish I knew the answer to that. I keep waiting for some ability to show itself."
He didn't know how he felt about that statement. Would it be cool to turn into a bear? Sure. But he didn't think he wanted any abilities.
"Perhaps you'll be a complete anomaly, and maybe none will," Joe said. "Let's continue. What happened after the hospital?"
Jordan recalled the time, and how he'd figuratively hung on to Nicholas, both physically and mentally. Nicholas continually fed him information on his past, who he had been before the explosion, and he'd grasped at every word, believing it to be the truth, needing it to be the truth. "We headed for the Group Nine building in Washington D.C."
"And is this their main headquarters?"
He furrowed his brow; he'd never considered it before, but then again, he'd never questioned whether there could be another building. "I don't know. I never asked."
Joe nodded. "Continue."
At that point, Nicholas had put him into training to get him back into shape physically. After two weeks of lying in a hospital bed, being poked and prodded and having a bunch of neurological tests done, he'd lost a lot of his strength.
There'd been a lot of long days of excruciating physical challenges, as well as hours at the gun range and hand-to-hand combat training. "It all seemed to come back to me pretty naturally."
"I'm sure it did. You'd been trained in all of it before, just not by Group Nine."
Take a deep breath, he tried to tamp down the surge of anger that railed through him again. He had to harness it and use it when the appropriate time came.
"Continue, Jordan. Tell me about some of your missions and how you came about to believe that the people you killed had become a threat to the government."
Focusing on the table in front of him, he recalled that besides the physical training, he'd spent hours with Nicholas talking. Actually, Nicholas had done all the speaking while he listened. Now, he realized that the man had been filling his head with lies about what Group Nine had been.
"I was told that Group Nine was a clandestine part of the government that didn't exist on paper or in any file. There wasn't a trace of them, and Nicholas said he didn't even know if the president had knowledge of their actions. We were the front line that no one could see in assessing and disposing of threats to the government."