RetroCog

Chapter Thirteen

Frank had been right. A few days later, Noah and Lara were still pouring on the love with a saccharinity that made her teeth ache. Chloe squirmed in the uncomfortable seat on her flight that she prayed would make it back to Oregon in one piece. The lovebirds sat behind her holding hands and doing all that lovey-dovey crap that annoyed the hell out of her. Sure, she wanted her buddy to be happy, but his newfound emotions continued to impress upon her the deficiencies in her own life. What awaited her at home? A few cans of SpaghettiOs and some lint balls rolling on the floors of her near empty house?

Jeez, she hadn’t seen any man action in close to a year. How pathetic was that?

“Change is coming.”

Trust that fucking voice to be back now. Where had it been before, when she’d been close to circling the drain in that psycho’s attic? On a good note, at least they had the painting. Her boss would be pleased about that. Jack couldn’t chew her ass that much about being late on delivery. Plus, he now had a much better balanced retrocog in Noah. Lara centered him, the couple was in love, and Jack no longer had to worry about losing Noah.

Though the boss man didn’t show his emotions, he was the first one on her ass if he sensed anything wrong with her squad. The night-shift guys worked well as a unit, but he counted on Chloe to keep a closer eye on the general well-being of his agents. Kitty, her daytime counterpart, watched the dayshift. Of course, it helped that the empath could sense the emotional health of her team. Chloe had to go on gut instinct and direct supervision. And with guys like Noah, Nathan, and Aiden, she had her hands full.

She shifted again, wishing her ass hadn’t gone numb from the stupid seat. At least she had a space beside her. The rotund man on the aisle seat continued to snore his way home, but she could handle that with a view out the window.

She glanced at him, wondering if she closed her eyes and napped, if she could count this as sleeping with another man. How boring was her life that the past few days had been more excitement than she’d seen in months? Not having a sex life was pathetic yet doable. But God, she really missed her work with the PWP.

“Be careful what you wish for.” The warning shocked her. She heard the voices; she was a clairaudient. But they never sounded worried. Dry, matter-of-fact, not concerned. What the hell?

“Who are you?” Maybe this time she’d get the answers she’d been seeking. Who talked to her? And why? Why her?

“We’re coming, Chloe. It’s time.”

“What?” Coming? We? “How many are you?”

“Ah. Hope you don’t mind, but the lady back there needed to breastfeed. Hello, uncomfortable.” Frank Hanover, aka Ian Ryder, stepped over the man in the aisle seat and sat next to her with a big grin on his face. “Happy to see me? Noah thought I might be a help to the team. Said I was wasting my time in Brownville, and your boss was eager to meet me.”

She ignored her concern about the voices and turned to glare at Noah over the seat. “Thanks a lot.”

He smiled. “No problem. Hey, maybe Frank can take some of my shifts. I’m thinking about teaching at the local college a few nights a week. Lara thinks I should embrace my sense of history. Might help me deal with the past while strengthening my abilities for the group, you know?”

She huffed and turned back around, not dignifying that possibility with an answer.

Frank grinned at her. “Just think, Chloe. What good friends we’ll be.”

“God help me.” She ignored his chuckle. She even ignored the news that their flight would be delayed another half hour due to traffic on the runway. More time for her ass and the lumps in the seat to become better acquainted.

Then the voices returned.

“We’re coming, Chloe King. Find us before it’s too late. For all of us.”

Her life suddenly got a lot more interesting.