Perry’s voice took on an impatient, scolding tone. “Even if he doesn’t, the harvesters won’t have their firearms on them while they’re picking corn. You’ll be fine.”
This was all happening too fast. Enzo wanted to keep protesting—to find an excuse that would give him more time to—what was he hoping for? He’d come here to neutralize the Empowered.
Perry handed him another clip of bullets. “Off the record, I suggest you kill the Empowereds as soon as you find out who they are. A live Empowered is a dangerous Empowered, and you can’t afford another mess up like your last one.”
Enzo gripped the clip. “Kill without any sort of trial? For all we know, the psychic or telekinetic hasn’t ever broken the law and doesn’t plan to. These people areharvesters.”
Perry grunted. “You think it’s Charity, don’t you? I knew if it was her, you’d go soft.” The flashlight illuminated his derisive sneer. “If you believe these people are just a bunch of innocent farmhands, I’ve got bad news for you. You know those slavers they killed? Turned out they had trackers on some of the stuff your friends took from them. The harvesters sent it to an area in the breakaway states. They’re somehow connected to enemy forces.”
Enzo wasn’t willing to immediately condemn them. “That’s not proof they’re working with the breakaway states. They probably sold it to someone who took it there. Harvesters barter all the time.” Even as he said the words, he doubted them.Ben Huntington didn’t seem like the average boss. Enzo hadn’t been able to put his finger on what was off about him until this moment. He was too cheerful, too organized, too much like the politicians Enzo had met. Men like that had agendas. They were leaders on a large scale.
Perry zipped his pack closed. “We’re not talking about some petty criminal. Psychics are a national threat. I shouldn’t need to remind you of that.”
Enzo slipped the clip into his jacket pocket. His throat felt tight. “You don’t need to remind me of anything.”
He was here to do a job. And he would do it. He didn’t have any other choice, regardless of his feelings for Charity.
19
At breakfast, Charity sat by Enzo. She hadn’t planned to. She meant to be careful around him until they figured out his identity. But when she saw him sitting by himself, staring bleakly at his plate, her legs carried her to him. She was used to seeing him with a look of private amusement, an expression that said he would tease her if he could. Today he seemed …wounded.
He clearly hadn’t been as unaffected by yesterday’s events as he claimed. And going through this thing together, well, it bonded them. Back on the road, he’d held her and done everything he could to comfort her. Last night, she’d held him, trying to return the favor.
When he leaned down to kiss her, she’d wanted to kiss him. She’d wanted to get lost in his arms and use the embrace to forget about the raiders. But if she’d started kissing Enzo, her ability to think about him in any sort of rational way would vanish.
As it was, one sad look on his part had drawn her to him. She sat beside him and put her plate on the table. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped.”
“I’ll give you a couple sleeping pills for tonight.”
His gaze fixed on his plate. The movements of his knife and fork through his pancake were quick and severe. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine tonight.”
They fell into silence, eating. Each moment felt wrong. She should be doing something to make him feel better. That’s what she’d come over here for.
“Did I ever thank you for saving my life? I can’t remember because I was in shock.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“Well, it must not have been sufficient if neither of us remembers it.”
“I got a truck out of it. That’s sufficient.”
She nibbled a piece of her pancake. “True. I suppose any gratitude on my part couldn’t top that.”
He looked at her, and finally, a hint of teasing glinted in his eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m willing to consider other offerings.”
“I was thinking something along the lines of sharing my apology chocolate with you.”
He finished off a bite. “As I recall, you rebuffed my apology, so the chocolate is still mine.”
“A technicality. I’ll let you have half.”
A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “You don’t even know where it is. I might have eaten it all last night after you rejected me. It became consolation chocolate.”
“You’ve still got it.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I don’t think you’d give up that easily on something you want.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said you didn’t know me.”