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 So why d you stay with him, once you got drafted?
She cast him an incredulous look.  You saw the battlefields in the Divide.
They d scare anyone shitless. David was an evil I at least knew; he was the Devil I
understood.
 He was safe. Rick muttered the words.  Even when he was beating you to a
pulp and degrading you. God, Tamia& 
 Yeah, I know, she muttered, pulling her hand loose from his.  It s pretty
pathetic, and so am I.
 No, he murmured, capturing her hand again.  You had a right to be scared;
hell, you had a right to be downright terrified. And I think you re the bravest woman I ve
ever met.
Tamia s eyes went soft, a sheen of moisture sparkling like a veil across her
mahogany gaze. She looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped, looking
away as she blinked hard. As he watched her, Rick saw her expression suddenly change,
with the music. A steady rhythm pounded through the speakers. Late 21st Century
music was popular in some circles, and particularly at Walsh's. That was part of why
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Rick came here. Sure, there were the technojammers as well, like W.P.O. and
WarChilde, and even a few early technotics, like Captain Crookstone and 2ndExtreme.
Now, however, someone had plugged into some hard rock. Tamia was listening intently,
her eyes closed, as the first words of "Turn Around" blared from the speakers around the
room. That song had become an anthem of sorts during the Divide. As the singer,
Sandra Keily, wailed so much life lost in this short time, Rick saw tears on Tamia s face,
and knew that she was remembering more than the friends she'd lost on the battlefields of
the Divide. She ached for her family, lost during the Reaver War. Her hands were
trembling around her beer, and her lashes were damp. Yes, there was definitely a heart in
there, and a lot nearer to the surface than he d thought. This song had once, long ago,
brought similar memories to the surface of his mind. Not anymore. He had numbed
himself to loss, regarded it as inevitable.
As the last chords of the song faded away, Rick extinguished his cigarette in the
table's ashtray, and stood, holding a hand out to her. "We've sat long enough, I think.
Let's dance."
She hesitated for a second, wavered, then nodded and slid from the booth. The
dance floor was fairly empty - hell, the pub was fairly empty by now. Rick went to the
Discmachine and punched in a request. He turned to grin at Tamia as the first beats of
music played. It was an early 21st century favorite of his; slow enough to dance to, and
good, solid rock. As he watched Tamia begin to unconsciously sway with the beat,
however, his grin disappeared and his mouth went dry. He d been aching to get her in his
arms all evening, and now his hands itched to run over that smooth, honey-tinted body
beneath her sweater and jeans. Desire hummed in his body, and he moved slowly toward
her, a cat stalking prey. As he reached her, he slid his hands around her waist, pulling her
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against himself.
Tamia nearly jerked away in surprise, her eyes flying to his. Then, as he drew her
closer, letting her feel how aroused he was, heat flared in those mahogany depths, and she
melted against him with a sigh.
Feeling Tamia s trusting warmth settle comfortably against him, as if she d been
made for him alone, Rick felt his heart turn over in his chest. Without quite knowing
how, he found himself closing his eyes, his face buried in her thick, sweet-smelling hair.
God, she smelled so good. The memory of tasting her soft, sweet skin taunted him,
heightening his desire to painful proportions. Sensations and emotions he hadn't felt in
years rocketed through him as they moved to the music, and he knew that this song
would always remind him of her.
Tamia, her cheek resting against Rick's chest and her eyes closed, was trembling
inside. She recognized the song - common to the classic rock stations - but she'd never
really listened to it before tonight. The lyrics seeped through her now, with far more
meaning than any she'd ever heard before.
It's been a long time, baby,
since I felt this pain,
It's been a long time, now,
since I held on to this dream.
Been livin' on the run,
hidin' from the sun,
in this dark, dark night of mine.
Gotta reach out, gotta hold on, just one more time...
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She understood why Rick had chosen it, above the hundreds of other slow songs.
This one had meaning, to both of them. She felt safe and warm there in his arms, in a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]