Trapezoid (The Base)

Chapter 24

Having Stevens at most three inches behind her had made her break out in cold sweat at first. But now it didn't seem so bad. However, her senses had intensified at his nearness. His size in contrast to hers and his warm masculine scent would have been all she focused on—if the tension around her wasn't so tangible. After setting up the last trap, Chris heard the low rumble of a generator. She'd tensed up—but not like the man behind her. She couldn't help but notice his heavier breathing. The temptation to give a glance behind her was fought with her determination to make it to the end of this tunnel in less than fifteen minutes.

Her spirits soared, seeing the "infamous" solid wood door up ahead. He bumped into her, knocking her out of her reverie. She reached behind her, grabbing the front of his jacket, semi-pushing him away. The way his warm but clammy hands gripped her shoulders had startled her—as though some of his inner thoughts had coursed through his fingers into her. Something was wrong. "You okay?" she dared to ask.

She received no answer.

.........................................................

Michael watched the silvery moon lighting up the sky along with a sprinkling of stars here and there—then he gave his attention back to his computer screen, being the work-addict he'd turned into. It seemed Stevens had not neglected to attach his tracker today. Those two green dots on the grid were as plain as day. Faithful Hopper never forgot her tracker. He smiled to himself. How in the world had she coped with the "Man of Steel" today? She was running into him so much. At that moment, the two neon green dots had formed a figure eight filled in. Why the two were so close for over ten minutes? He had no idea—which made him nervous. Having access to GPS satellites, he'd pinpointed where Hopper spent most of her time—on the Greenwood estate. That was where she was, but she seemed to be underground—with Stevens.

He had to wonder what she was doing there. She had not contacted Smith ever since she set foot in the country. To his own personal dismay, she hadn't used any of his gadgets either. If it had been Levi Stevens who had done that, he'd come to the conclusion that he thought he was too good of a shot to use them—but Christina Hopper wasn't like that. He remembered how she'd squeezed the life out of him while thanking him over and over for the "gifts." So he came to two conclusions; either she had not found an opportunity to use them, or she was never in the right place to use them.

But for whatever reason she was more than six feet under—but not dead, he'd wish the best for her.

Just then, he heard a knock on his office door. Who else was still around at this time except the janitors? The door opened without his consent. The dark hair was undeniable.

Lisa Troy.

He groaned internally. He smiled externally. "Hey there, Liquorice."

She claimed the empty seat in front of his desk. "You're being sweet today, I see."

He ignored the mocking tone of her voice and her attempt at a pun. He had to at least give her the least of his attention. "Yeah," he said simply.

She propped her feet on his desk. "So what have you been doing lately?"

Heck, where was her decency? Some type of dung seemed to be trapped under the soles of her black boots. What made her think she could just prop dirt on his sanitized desk? He fixed his irises on her darker ones. "Maybe I'd disclose if you'd get your mucky shoes off my space."

To his surprise, she consented—but then made her way around to him. And there she sat herself, next to his computer's monitor. "Seriously?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, covered in a black long-sleeved top. "What?" she shrugged.