Hands of Clay Ch. 25

Brice didn't need Claymore Wicks. He didn't miss the man. As far as Brice was concerned, he'd done the right thing. The breakup was the right call, especially since they would have been over eventually.

As Brice shoved his papers into his mail slot, a little voice in his head asked him why he had to say these things to himself every God-damn morning. It had been three weeks. Brice should be over his broken heart, except this time, the pain lingered. Maybe it was because Nancy was leaving with the woman from Custodial Services. Or perhaps it was because Keith had turned into a hermit. Whatever Brice's problem, it wasn't the loss of Agent Wicks.

"Agent Brice," Rea snapped out his name, and the tone wasn't a happy one. Everyone in the operations center glanced at Brice. Some of the men gave him that sucks-to-be-you look.

Brice ignored their pity glances and grabbed his folder and his book on Basic Lifesaving Skills. Spinning around, he eyed his leadership. Rea did one sharp nod toward his office. Grumbling about useless meetings, Brice headed to the door.

When Brice reached Rea's work area, he paused at the threshold. Essie sat on a chair, smoking as per usual. Luna and Gears leaned against the wall, chatting. Last, Karma sat on Rea's desk, sharpening an ugly-looking knife. Everyone looked up as Brice strode in after Rea. Rea took a seat behind his desk as Essie stood and motioned to the chair.

"I think I'll stand." Brice shrugged at Essie's silent urging.

"Sit," Rea commanded.

"What's this about?" Brice sank into the hot seat. All eyes tracked his movements like he was a criminal.

"Did you have sex with Claymore Wicks?" Rea asked.

The question was so abrupt and surprising that Brice leaned back in the chair like he was too close to a bonfire.

"I..." Brice's mind sped over possible answers. "I..."

"Why are you thinking about lying to me?" Rea asked.

"We've known each other a long time, Brice," Karma murmured. "Why lie?"

"I told them what I saw the day you threw Abdul." Essie exhaled the words with his smoke.

"Yes. I had sex with him, but I kept it on the down-low. No one knew." Brice cleared his throat. "I know it was wrong to sleep with a recruit. I just..." Brice pressed his lips together. He hated giving excuses as much as he hated hearing them.

"Couldn't help yourself?" Gears supplied when Brice didn't speak again.

"I swear that our relationship did not interfere with his training." Brice ran a hand over his face.

"Of course, it didn't interfere with his training," Rea scoffed. "Claymore Wicks is a fully trained veteran agent with abilities coming out of his ass."

"Butch trained him," Karma mimicked Rea's scoff. "He could kill Original members with one hand tied behind his back. The man has talent."

"I promise it will never happen again," Brice doggedly continued. "I swear it, and I will take whatever punishment you see fit."

"Are you seeing him again?" Luna asked. "Are you going to date him? You could invite him back to HQ."

"No." Brice came to his feet and stared at everyone in the room. "No." His eyes landed on Rea. He had to convince his leadership of his honesty. "I broke it off completely with Wicks, and I swear I will not see him again. It was one time. It was a mistake. I told him that before he left."

"Luna called it." Karma cocked her head at Rea.

Gears handed money to Essie.

Rea stood and took a small set of H.S.P.C. Organizational Currency out of his drawer. He handed the HOCs to Luna. Essie snickered.

Brice sat in the office chair again. He waited for whatever punishment was about to be doled out. He prayed he wouldn't be sent out beyond the wire to do missions. He wasn't ready for that.

"What's the punishment?" Brice asked as Rea retook his seat.

"What?"

"What is the punishment for having sexual relations with a recruit during Basic Skills Training."

"That's a flagrant disregard of the rules, and I don't take it lightly." Rea nodded. "But you didn't sleep with a recruit. I'm not punishing you. You're allowed to have a relationship with an agent. Wicks is an agent. That is at your discretion." Rea paused. "Didn't think you'd go for someone like Claymore, but whatever."

"Someone like Claymore?" Brice didn't know why that sentence bothered him, but it did.

"We didn't picture you with such a vicious killer like Tips." Karma shrugged. "He is so cruel."

Brice kept his mouth shut. He didn't know that side of Clay other than what he saw at the train station. He saw Claymore Wicks differently. Clay was sweet and funny and kind. Clay loved his sisters and had a great laugh and sparkling eyes. Angrily, Brice shoved those images out of his head. Instead, he thought about the name Tips. Tips had been the agent that lit their hut on fire and killed all the men who tortured Brice.

Clay did that?

Brice exhaled and reminded himself that he didn't care. Brice and Claymore were over. Over. Over.

After a few seconds, he let the tension in his shoulders relax. If he wasn't in trouble for the sex with Clay, then he could leave. It was all over now, anyway. None of it mattered.

"Can I go?"

"No." Rea ran his hands back and forth through his red hair.

"There is a problem." Gears looked lost for words. "Luna thinks the problem is because of you."

"What?" Brice's eyes swung to Luna. "What did I do?"

"Claymore Wicks is ill," Luna said thoughtfully. "The leaders on his water base want to put him in quarantine. We just got the message."

"What?" Brice jumped to his feet with the urge to do something. "Snow Flu?" His heart pounded. Not Clay. Not his shepherd. Didn't he once say he wouldn't cry for Clay if he died? Now he felt like he might vomit. "What happened?" Brice's eyes swung around the room. "Is he hurt? Is he with a doctor?"

"Sit." Rea pointed to the chair. Irritated, Brice sank back into the seat. "I thought you said you broke it off completely, and it was a mistake. It would never happen again." Rea's eyes lifted. "Why would you care if he's sick and in quarantine?"

Brice gritted his teeth. Rea was lucky Brice wasn't armed.

"What happened," Brice snapped.

"I think I should explain." Gears straightened himself away from the wall and pushed up his glasses. "As you know, Claymore's gift comes from his hands. His fingertips bleed when he uses his ability." Gears chuckled. "And, of course, that is how he got his nickname Tips."

"I figured." Brice waved for Gears to get to the point. "What does this have to do with him getting sick?"

"When Tips touches someone, a flow of certain chemicals in the brain makes that person feel happy. He also brings up memories to the forefront of the mind. Things we love and so forth."

"I know. He has done it to me." Brice waved. "And?"

"Well," Gears began to clean his glasses. "Since leaving here and returning to his base, Wicks seems to be doing the opposite. He is still releasing chemicals in the brain, but...." Again, Gears looked lost for words.

"What my match is saying is that you broke Claymore's gift when you dumped him." Luna leaned away from the wall and took Gears' hand. "You altered his gift because you are his perfect match. You must be with him." Luna gave a sweet smile. "You're his Conpar. His soulmate. It's nature finding balance."

"I'm not his anything," Brice corrected. "Trust me." He rose to leave.

"I think they might be right, mi amigo." Essie stepped into the doorway, blocking Brice's exit.

"Brice." Rea's call had Brice turning around.

"What?"

When Brice turned to the desk, he noted that Rea had Karma's knife. He ran the blade over his forearm. The blood made rivulets down his skin.

"Close this." Karma pointed.

Brice shook his head. They were all out of their minds. After two sure strides, he leaned over the desk and grabbed Rea's arm. He ran his tongue over the slice in Rea's skin.

"Clay and I are over," he said as he lifted his head. "Over," he repeated. "This gift thing isn't my problem."

Rea shrugged and pulled away. When Rea's eyes dropped to his arm, Brice's eyes did as well. The skin was swollen, puffy, and red. The wound didn't look closed but appeared worse.

"Gears?"

Gears walked over and turned Rea's arm one way and then another. "Infection." He tipped up his elbow. "Luna?"

"I thought this might happen." Luna hurried to Rea and set her hand on Rea's arm. "Your gift is broken too. It's backward or taken away. Instead of closing this cut, you infected it." Her blue eyes shot to Brice. "You need Claymore Wicks. Rea said he saw you close the cut on his fingertips. That is what a match can do."

"I don't care about any of this." Brice walked to the exit. "This match thing isn't real." He turned his back on everyone. He didn't need Claymore Wicks. He refused to put his heart in a rock-crushing machine for the man. "But you know what is real?" Brice turned to face his friends. "The pain I go through when agents dump me and toss me aside. I'm never dating an H.S.P.C. agent again. They break my heart, cheat, lie, and the mission is always more important than me. I don't care about Claymore Wicks. I can't do it. I don't need him in my life where he can make me love him and then crush me. It's not worth it. I am perfectly happy alone."

"Alone? Like Keith is happy with Nancy leaving?" Karma asked. "Not worth it like that?"

Brice spun back to the doorknob.

"Keith is not happy. It's a lie," Rea commented. "I know he's your mentor, but he's not always right. It's worth it to try with someone you love."

"It's too painful." Brice opened the door and sailed out of the office. With his mind in a haze, he headed up to his room. He couldn't think about training or work. All his thoughts were on what they might be doing to Clay right now. Did they put him in quarantine because he was making everyone sad instead of happy? The name Tips popped up. How the tips of Clay's fingers bleed, but he'd offered joy to people anyway.

As his brain conjured Clay's smile, he pictured going to the base. What was he thinking? Brice couldn't get Clay back. He didn't have those skills. The man probably didn't even care about Brice anymore. That's what agents did. They moved on and forgot the people at HQ. Brice was probably just some piece of ass. Somewhere Clay was laughing at his stupid dopey instructor.

As he reached his apartment door, he considered begging Clay to come home with him. It probably wasn't possible. The mission would be doomed from the start. Clay probably loved being an agent and wouldn't make changes for Brice.

And how could Brice ask such a gifted and talented agent to give all that up for him? Clay was an amazing H.S.P.C. agent, and Brice was a washed-up instructor with one foot.

Entering his quarters, Brice stopped on his rug. The last person he expected was in his apartment. Butch sat at his dining table. Brice's two favorite pistols were loaded and sitting in front of Clay's brother.

"What are you doing here?" He hoped that the answer wasn't to kill him for messing around with his brother.

"You know why I'm here." Butch leaned back in his chair as his legs swung back and forth like a child on a swing.

Brice inhaled deeply. If Butch were here to shoot him over fooling around with Clay, the man would have done it by now. No... Brice knew why Butch was here, but he didn't get it. No one understood. He and Claymore would never work out.

"I can't go see him." Brice glared.

"Yes, you can."

"He doesn't care about me." Brice tried again. He wasn't anything more than a piece of ass to Claymore Wicks. He was sure of it.

"Yes, he does."

"I don't miss him."

"Yes, you do."

"Our lives are too different."

"Figure it out."

"He probably won't take me back even if I begged."

"He will."

Brice stared at what might be one of the coldest killers he'd ever met. Butch might be a hard-ass assassin, but he loved his brother. Fuck. Brice loved Clay too. He was never going to get over him. They would never be over, no matter how many times Brice said it.

"I have to pack."

"I did it already." Butch picked up the guns and the holster that hung off the back of his chair. He jumped from his seat and handed the items to Brice. After he walked to the sofa, he gestured to the other side. On the couch, Brice's pack and his coat waited for him.

"When do we leave?" Brice strapped on his pistols.

"Now."