Whisper (Whisper #1)(44)
Me included.
*
Cami and I stay up late, huddled on the couch, eating copious amounts of comfort food and watching chick flicks until we both fall asleep.
It’s only when a pounding on the door reaches my ears the next morning that I wake up with a start, the shock causing me to tumble off the edge of the couch. My sudden movement has a domino effect on Cami, who fell asleep on the other end, and she topples, as well. Somehow we end up tangled in a pile of cushions and pillows, and the more we try to move, the more we become wedged between the couch and the coffee table.
I’m not sure if it’s Cami or me who starts it, but one of us lets out a snort of laughter, and then we’re both lost to the hilarity of the moment. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so freely and completely. I’d forgotten how good it feels.
Cami and I are still on the ground, cheeks aching and tears streaming down our faces, when Enzo finds us, having let himself into the suite since neither of us were quick to open the door.
“Do I want to know what’s going on here?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Or should I let my imagination run wild?”
“Neither,” Cami gasps. “What’re you doing here, Enz?”
“Just dropped by to make sure you got JD down to training on time. Lando’s on a warpath, and he’ll rip into all of us if she’s late.”
“What’s his problem?” Cami grumbles, her humor dissolving. “He’s acting like a —”
“Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?”
I bolt into an upright position at the newest voice and end up whacking my knee painfully on the coffee table. I wince and rub the bruised flesh, but my attention is focused on Ward’s commanding presence as he strides into the room. Even Enzo appears startled to see him, but his expression swiftly turns into something that looks like a cross between apprehension and anticipation.
“I thought we were meeting you downstairs,” Cami says to her brother, all traces of laughter gone.
“Change of plans,” Ward replies simply. “Crew has something on after breakfast, so if we want to use him for our first lesson, it has to be now.”
I look down at my pajama-clad body and wonder exactly what Ward means by “now.”
“Time’s wasting, Jane. Let’s move.”
A traitorous part of me is relieved that he called me “Jane” rather than “Six-Eight-Four,” even if it still feels like a slap in the face coming from him. I cover my reaction by sending him an incredulous look, but he doesn’t catch it since he’s already turning and stalking toward the door. I swing my eyes to Enzo, and they narrow into a glower at the amusement I see him trying to rein in.
“You heard the man, JD,” Enzo says, giving me a wolfish grin. “Chop, chop.”
I stand to my feet but otherwise don’t move. Cami rises beside me and mimics my body language.
“You, too, Cam,” Enzo adds. “I’ll need you to patch me up when Crew’s through with me.”
“We’re not going anywhere, not until we’ve had a chance to put some proper clothes on,” Cami says. “There’s no way I’m walking the halls like this.”
Ward prowls back into the room with a scowl on his face, having realized no one was following him. “What part of ‘Let’s move’ did you not understand?”
“They’re having a diva moment,” Enzo drawls. “Looks like they want a few minutes to don their gowns and powder their noses.”
Had I been closer to him, I would gladly have slammed my heel down on his instep.
Ward lets out a sound of irritation. “We don’t have time for this.”
In four quick strides, he’s at my side with his fingers wrapped firmly around my wrist, dragging me forward. I let out a squeak of distress, but I won’t risk vocalizing more than that. Instead, I pull against him, tugging back with all my might, but it’s no use against the physical power he commands.
“Cam, you have ten minutes until I expect to see you downstairs,” Ward calls over his shoulder.
“Wait! Landon, stop!” Cami cries out. “At least give her a jacket!”
Ward’s steps falter, and he glances back at his sister with a confused frown. Then he turns his eyes on me and looks me over, finally noticing that I’m still wearing my sleeping attire — a pair of pajama shorts and a thin camisole. Despite being sure that his scrutiny can only be clinical, with the lack of genuine anything he feels toward me, I can still sense pinpricks of heat firing into every nerve ending his eyes touch.
I fight the urge to cover my body, no matter how uncomfortable I am from his perusal.
As if my touch suddenly scalds him, he releases my wrist and steps away. “Two minutes, Jane,” he offers, looking past my head rather than at me directly. “Get dressed, and Enzo will take you downstairs.”
With that, he whips around and disappears out the door again.
After quickly changing into jeans, a sweater and Esther’s boots, I follow Enzo to the elevator Ward used to return me to my room last night — different to Falon’s private one — and the nerves hit me like a freight train. If what Ward told me yesterday is true, there is a very real possibility that he’ll be able to teach me how to control the monster in me. I haven’t allowed myself even an inkling of hope for over two and a half years — it seemed futile, given my circumstances. But now …