STELLAR: The Portal Connection Book 1 by Thorn Jade

Author:Thorn, Jade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

BOWIE

Corporal Witherspoon allotted them one of the temporary barracks close to the portal accommodation. Aside from one other permanently occupied barracks, it was actually the closest one to Jacinta, as far as he could tell. Well, except the one occupied by the other unit guarding Michael Collins.

The setup was nice, better than their last barracks. There was a kitchen/dinette at one end, and a locker style room at the other. It wasn’t the Taj Mahal, but it certainly met all their needs, and the furniture was relatively new. It all had that IKEA feel to it, but he didn’t care. They made reasonable furniture.

There were six of them and six rooms, so they all just shuffled down the hall, splitting off one at a time. This was still a temporary placement until they knew where things were with Jack. It was a lot to ask of his team, moving yet again, but now they had a permanent protectee again, things should be more stable. Who knew, he might even start dating again.

An image of Jacinta emerging from the corridor in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that could have been his own, flashed before his eyes, killing that idea before it had taken root. Bowie was in trouble and he knew it. The idea of her wearing his clothing had made him hard on the spot, even though the hoodie was surplus and not his. But seeing her dressed for the first time?

She wasn’t a victim anymore. Not a survivor, not desolated, injured or frightened. They’d had a glimpse of the real Jacinta then, not the woman-child in the hospital gown, but the real woman. Of course the other image of her bleeding and broken would haunt him forever, but it was worth seeing her through that to be with her as she emerged. It was like a rebirth. From waif to woman, and he wanted her.

He shouldn’t. But he wanted her with every fiber of his being.

There was nobody left in front of him, the others all settling into their rooms, so Bowie headed into the one on his left, dumping Doc’s duffel bag on the bed. Then he crossed the hall to the last door on the right, the one before the common bathing area. He opened his bag, shook out his formal uniform and hung it up. The rest of it was packed away in drawers, and the empty duffel stored in the bottom of his closet. It had taken less than ten minutes.

Noises from the other end of the hall, the TV, laughter, a microwave beeping, all told him the others were also done. Bowie was determined to put an end to their transience, no matter what the army had in mind for them. They’d been moving around as liaisons to portals for the last five years, since the death of their last protectee. At first, the guys needed space to decompress. Having the person you’re protecting kill themselves was akin to a grenade exploding.

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