HARDCORE: Storm MC(116)

Cain heard Missy coming back to the door, looked down, and realized he was still naked. He didn't want to do anything to provoke another sexual confrontation like last night's—or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself, with varying degrees of success—and he snatched up the blanket, twisting it around his waist just as the door opened. He pressed his back against the wall to keep the blanket in place.



Missy entered with the pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Her face was stony and unreadable as she crossed the small room and placed the pills in Cain's outstretched hand.



“Here,” she said.



When Cain had popped them into his mouth, Missy handed him the glass. He gulped down the water loudly and eagerly, spilling some of it down his front. His mouth still felt oddly numb and swollen from the meds, but at least it wasn't dry anymore, and in a few moments the pain in his body began to recede again.



Missy took the empty glass from him and turned to leave. “I'll give you some privacy,” she said over her shoulder. “I'm making breakfast. If you want some, come to the kitchen. If you don't, then don't.”



“What are you making?” Cain asked.



Missy slammed the door behind her without another word.



Cain sighed, frustrated, and tossed the blanket back on the air mattress. Missy's new tight-lipped attitude was bugging him, but he wasn't sure why. Hadn't he hated her constant stream of smartass answers? Hadn't he wanted to make sure things between them stayed chilly instead of getting complicated?



Well, maybe he hadn't hated her wisecracks as much as he'd have had her believe. Maybe deep down, he even found them kind of funny, and he felt less able to take himself so seriously when she fired them at him.



Maybe he found himself missing her smile, even when it was mocking him. Maybe he was relieved that she made it back alive last night after running off alone.



And maybe he didn't really want things chilly between them. Maybe now that the pain in his body had reduced to a dull roar and he could think more clearly, he was realizing that all he could think about was what happened between them last night and how much he wanted it to happen again.



Ugh, maybe, maybe, maybe, Cain thought disgustedly, reaching for his jeans and carefully pulling them up over his legs. Get a goddamn grip on yourself. The Eagles are under attack—you don't have time to stand around pining for someone like you're in a fucking soap opera. Just focus on getting better and getting payback, and leave the secret-crush bullshit to high school girls.



With that, he opened the bedroom door and headed toward the kitchen.





Chapter 30



Missy



Missy checked the edges of the eggs in the frying pan to make sure they were well-done enough, then carefully poured some leftover chili and shredded cheese along the center, folding the whole thing over. As she did, she heard Cain enter the kitchen behind her and sit down at the table.



“Well, it smells good, whatever it is,” Cain said.



“I'm making an omelet with some of the chili,” she replied curtly.



“Sounds inventive.”



Missy heard the flat tone in Cain's voice and assumed it was sarcasm. “It's all I had to work with,” she snapped, flipping the omelet. “I didn't feel like sending Keith out to the store for more stuff, in case Gaspar comes back here with a fucking Bradley tank or something. If you want something else, tough shit. Order delivery on your goddamn phone, unless you've already smashed that one too.”



“Jesus, take it down a notch.” Cain spat back. “I'm trying to give you a compliment and you're acting like I came in here and took a shit in the pan!”



Missy sighed. She supposed she'd read too much into his comment. Still, she knew she couldn't soften up toward him, even if she wanted to. Things had to remain cool if they were going to avoid another mistake like last night's. If that meant she had to act bitchy to him, so be it.



She slid the omelet onto a plate and set it down in front of him with a fork. “Fine. Here.”



“What? You're not eating?” he asked.



“I already ate,” Missy answered. “I have a quick phone call to make.”



Before Cain could say anything else, Missy walked into the living room, dialing Christina's number.



“Um, hello?” Christina answered.



“Christina, it's Missy. When do you think you'll have time to do my hair today?”



“Oh, hi Missy!” Missy heard the relief in Christina's voice. Clearly, whatever kind of trouble she and her mother were in, she thought Missy and he Eagles could help get them out of it.



Well, we'll see, Missy thought. The odds sure seem to be against it, but...