A Brutal Tenderness Read Free Page B

cross my arms, and a two point five nods my way, his
campus security badge winking under the huge hanging
fluorescent lights that wash everything an icy blue. They buzz
slightly above my head, and I sweep my hand in an agitated
scrub over my buzzed hair. It’s been itching like fucking crazy
since I got it shaved. But I have to admit that in my new role,
I’m allowed to look like me again, and it’s a relief not to cover
my tats anymore with that pancake crap. I feel like I’m starting
to find my way back to myself. My former persona is no longer
necessary, as first contact is right around the corner. I’m no
longer blending in but playing the ghost of myself.
I work out seven days a week now. It’s as necessary as
breathing—an outlet for my aggression, which keeps me from
going rogue and chasing after Thad on my own. Not that I’ve
given up preparing for one day coming face-to-face with the
bastard. I’ve taken my hand-to-hand combat to a new level,
my sparring partners in the FBI down to the insane, stupid, or
both.
My muscles are tense as I suffer through watching two
lackluster dancers before Jewell takes the stage. They’re shit , I
think with an internal sneer.
She’ll be shit too. Why Faith loved her is beyond me. Just
sheer loyalty, I figure.
I crack my knuckles, shift my weight, scuff a worn black
combat boot against the highly polished gym floor.
When the music fills the auditorium, I know it’s for Jewell.
I can see the change come over her face as she hears the first
notes of Moonlight Sonata. It transforms her, and for the first
time since I’ve been watching her, Jess Mackey’s careful cover
slips, and Jewell bursts her skin.
I stand up straighter, the crowd in the packed auditorium
becoming still, silent, and watchful. I could hear a pin drop,
with just the minor notes of the classic Beethoven piece filling
the space as it echoes and comes back to her. It feeds her
energy and mastery over the music, over her body. I watch like
everyone else, mesmerized, my heart speeding, her talent a raw
and wild thing, captured by the music.
Her hair winks like linked gold as her leg snaps parallel to
her face. Jewell drives it against herself as she spins across the
stage, her moves at once as fierce as they are graceful. For that
moment, she robs me of my seething anger, my need to avenge
Faith. All I see is Jewell as she comes nearer, like a mirage I
can’t shake. The urge to close my eyes takes hold and I force
them to stay open, to watch Jewell dance.
Her arms flutter by her sides as she floats across the stage.
The judges’ are eyes glued to a dancer whose steps are whisper
soft as the final notes of the music swell into a crescendo and
then halt abruptly.
There’s a beat of silence, and then the notes swell once again
as Jewell holds her leg beside her face, her toe pointed at the
ceiling.
She spins once more, landing in spiral of whirling color. Her
hands fall to cup slightly at her sides as her face stays turned
and away, the long column of her neck like a swan’s.
For a moment after the music has died, there is no sound,
like a vacuum has stolen the breath from everyone, the very
air. Then like a bubble that pops, people stand, clapping and
cheering.
Jewell scans the crowd. Unnervingly, she looks straight at
me and I feel a jolt. I remember why I’m here and return her
dead-on stare, holding her gaze captive for a moment.
Her face is an open book, and I’m pleased to see she takes
a half step backward, as if slapped by the intensity of my stare.
The reaction I’d hoped for. She won’t forget me now.
Just then her, fellow sophomore Carlie Stanton crashes into
her with a congratulatory squeal, blocking me from her line of
sight.
Jewell never sees me leave.
We’ll meet again now that the introductions are out of the
way.
Thaddeus MacLeod
    Thad enjoys the hunt almost as much as he delights in the
kill. In this case, he certainly relishes choosing handy