Chapter Seventeen
Milena sat hard in the wheeled desk chair, craning her neck in an effort to take in the ceiling which seemed to touch the sky. Gone were the marble covered floors and walls, exchanged for chiseled rock and harsh steel.
“I can see why this is your favorite.” Milena laughed, feeling dropped into a scene from a popular movie involving a billionaire who turned his fear of bats into an avenue to fight crime dressed as what he feared.
Bash caught Milena in his peripheral as he typed away on his keyboard. He wasn't certain if she’d find this place as amazing as he did. Having designed this room himself, modeling it for functionality and not aesthetic appeal. He’d purposely kept the bare rock, harnessing its ability to inhibit even the most technically advanced devices from gaining access. Like most experts in his field, he’d built the computer piece by piece, adding personal touches here and there to make the machine run as efficiently as he needed.
“It reminds me of your home. All clean lines and screaming of masculinity.”
Bash was tempted to show her his masculine side, however, the familiar pinging of an incoming call prevented it.
Milena opened her mouth to inquire what the noise was when five of the six monitors hanging from metal bars overhead, shifted from rows upon rows of letters and numbers to the faces of different men. Her first instinct was to duck under the metal desk; however, a second perusal of the monitors afforded her a familiar face.
“Mr. Slate?”
Bash crossed his arms over his chest in order to rein in the jealousy he felt in reaction to the joy he’d heard in Milena’s voice when she said his teammates name.
“Hello, Ms. Rossi, you’re looking as beautiful as ever.” Slate added a wink in an effort to get a rise out of Bash. “How are you enjoying The Cliffs?”
Milena could sense a hidden meaning behind Slate’s blatant flirting. Her suspicions were confirmed when she distinctly heard Bash mutter the word asshole under his breath. “It’s amazing—”
“What’s the status of the glitter bomb?” Bash barked, effectively cutting off Milena. Never in his life had he felt such possessiveness, especially against Slate. He could count a handful of women they’d fucked around the same time.
“Wow, Trespass, rude much?”
Milena shifted her gaze to the man on the top right monitor. He was handsome, with dark curly hair half pulled up in a knot at the top of his head, the sides loose and nearly touching the collar of his shirt. Pale blue, nearly white, eyes bore into hers, a smattering of day-old scruff covered his chin.
“Name’s Einstein, but you can call me Bronx when this is over.” Milena nearly choked on her tongue as Einstein wiggled his eyebrows and tipped his head in her direction as he chewed on what she assumed was gum.
“Fuck you, Einstein—”
“You’ll have to excuse these two Neanderthals, Ms. Rossi.” The man in the bottom left screen interrupted. “They are the product of their current environment, forgoing the manners I know each of them possesses. Allow me to introduce this motley crew.”
Milena felt her body relax as she took in the thick European accent of the man in the center. Wavy brown hair, a smattering of gray at the temples, dark and kind eyes framed by thick lashes. His skin was pale, but not unhealthy, face clean shaven and a dimple in the center of his chin.
“My name is Xander Grey, though during this unfortunate time I’ll need you to call me Boundaries.”
Milena wanted to know why the odd name but remained silent as Boundaries continued.
“To my left is Brandon Johnson, who we affectionately refer to as Hashtag.” Milena drifted her gaze to the monitor Boundaries referred to, finding another handsome individual with a smile so bright it was blinding.
“Judging by your familiarity with Slate, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting our fearless leader, Jamisson Harris.”
Nodding her head, Milena donned a pleasant smile as she flashed her gaze toward Slate.
“Are you finished?” Bash deadpanned with a raised brow. While he respected the hell out of Boundaries, he wanted to get this shit over with so he could have time alone with Milena.
“Actually, no,” Boundaries returned Bash’s raised brow with one of his own. He’d spoken with Slate and agreed, based on the bravado Bash displayed, the cocky bastard had met his perfect match in the lovely Milena. “We couldn't leave out your best mate.”
Milena fought hard to remain seated, the overwhelming need to flee the room and allow whatever was building between the men to happen without her.
Bash locked eyes with Boundaries, it was no secret within the group Boundaries voiced his reservations about allowing a civilian to join their ranks.
“Wizard is working on something for me.” Shifting his focus to Slate, “The glitter bomb?”
Slate adjusted in his seat, keeping his face stoic. “I tore it apart, not a single finger print. Not that we assumed there would be. The glitter is garden variety, available at any craft store in the county.”
“What about the detonation device? Those fuckers have to be triggered by something.”
