The End - Blackbird book 7

20. sick and tired

Brock reached behind him and closed the door, eyes fixed on her. She still had her left arm on a sling. His heart raced, but nothing about him showed it. Logic said there couldn't be many explanations for her to be there, in his office, not an hour after he landed on Boston. But Brock knew better than jumping to conclusions when it came to Gillian and her emotions.

"Hey..." he said, in a cautious neutral tone.

"Hey..." she echoed.

Brock forced himself to stay right where he stood and hold back his anxiety. Endless seconds ticktocked away while he waited for her to speak. And she did. In a soft, casual way. Nothing like her usual plain, energetic voice.

"So you guys finally cleaned up Ohio."

"Yes. Michigan's next."

Gillian nodded, the mild smile nailed to her face. She was no match for Brock on a self-control contest, but she did her best. She needed her heart to stop drumming in her throat, and find the guts to say what she'd come here to say. It was ludicrous, anyway, the way both of them kept their cool and stayed in character. Actually, rather pathetic than ludicrous. On her side at least.

Fine. He's not talking until I do, so I better say something before dawn. Let's try the tip of the iceberg.

"I'm sorry I didn't return your calls."

"It's okay. Coleman kept me up."

She nodded. "Bet he did," she murmured.

Do something, Brockner. Else she's gonna leave to see her team and you'll never get her face to face and alone like this again.

"Did you have dinner?"

What? C'mon, Brockner! You're really determined to screw it all up, right? She doesn't even take your calls and you expect her to leave the building with you, the two of you alone! With the punks only a flight of stairs away!

Gillian smiled a little wider at Brock's double P—proper and polite. He tried to look almost indifferent, but all about him told her he felt like treading on thin ice. Halfway to the nearest shore. Gosh, he was so damn sweet. And even if he didn't mean to, he'd just uncovered her lousy plan. So.

"I was waiting for you to do it."

Brock's cautious frown deepened, turning into a tacit question that gave away his surprise for a heartbeat. And Gillian just loved it. She would've crossed the office in two strides to hug him and kiss him till Doomsday. Well, maybe not that long. Sure there were more interesting things to do to him before the end of days. All she felt for him swelled onto her, overwhelming. And once more, she found herself speaking up before she could stop her big mouth.

"Remember what I felt when I was shot? Memories are kinda blurry, but I think I told you about it. What I thought before passing out on the street."

Brock sensed all his alarms flaring red and wailing out loud. But he had only one way to make sure he was wrong. Because she couldn't mean that. Not after shutting him out like she did.

"You told me you were afraid of never seeing my face again," he replied, calm and controlled but too slow for his usual confidence. However, his answer was deprived of any meaning other than the bare information.

Gillian pursed her lips to keep from giggling. Damn bitter man! He was so frigging adorable!

Brock's frown became a proper scowl when she nodded, that little smile still riding her lips.

"Yeah. That." Her heart hammered so hard she needed to pause. She couldn't help a shrug, such a pathetic attempt to hide she'd never needed to muster so much courage in her whole life. "Well, I don't wanna feel that ever again."

He raised only one eyebrow at her deceiving casual way. He could bet his right hand she was about to use that and turn it around, making it an excuse to shut him out for good.

Gillian sighed and her little smile turned apologetic—here she comes, Brockner. Take it like a man.

"But the only way I can think of to never feel that fear again is getting sick and tired of seeing your face." She shrugged again. "The closer, the better."

Brock ducked his head as if she'd spoken in tongues, completely lost. Had she just said what he thought she'd said?

She kept her apologetic smile and waited. Sweat rained down her body underneath her clothes, and even her temples pulsed with her drumming heart. She wished he didn't need to find a polite way to send her to hell, after she'd been such an ass with him over the last months.

He moved his head up, half a nod, and looked down. Gillian's ears caught fire. Just say it, stupid man. Say it and be done with it.

He met her bright blue eyes again and read how close she was to a full-out panic attack. Not a good idea, probably, asking you-sure? If he showed any kind of hesitation, she'd run out the door, out of the building and all the way home to Brighton. To never come out from under her bed again. So he swallowed his uncertainty and completed his nod with a serious scowl.

"I see. Yes, that would do," he said. Her surprised frown pulled his lips to curl up. "I think I can help, if you'd let me."

He stretched out his hand, palm up. And he had a hard time to stay put as she shot a suspicious look at his hand first, then up at him. But her fingers flickered. And they came up, fidgeting as if his hand held burning embers. She looked down at it as her hand reached out too. Before she changed her mind, he took a step and his hand found hers. She let out a shaky breath and looked up at him.

Brock smiled, his fingers closing around hers to pull her closer. His other arm came up to round her shoulders when she took the last step between them. She pressed her face to his chest as he held her tight, loving the feeling of her good arm up his back and her hand grasping his shoulder.

He lowered his head to rest his cheek against her hair.

"You know you just lost your last chance to get rid of me, right?" he whispered.

She pulled away only enough to look up at him with a troubled frown.

"I hope so," she murmured.

Brock scoffed and she let out a muffled giggle. He tilted his head to kiss her and his eyes caught a glimpse of shadows on the hall. When he looked up, he found half a dozen people trying to see what happened inside his office. Russell, Aldana, Ron, Hank, Tanya, Kurt. Even Brandon was there, sticking out his head like the others.

So he settled for kissing her temple and said, "Let's go home."