Chapter 12
Carson Blake
He walked up to her apartment feeling like he was going on a first date.
Which was dumb, because he wasn't.
He was here to check she was fine.
She'd almost died yesterday, twice.
He owed it to her to confirm she was okay. He also needed to put her mind at ease about her implant. He'd spoken to the technicians that afternoon, and they'd assured him they'd recalibrated the implant.
It wouldn't malfunction again.
Which just left the truly unsettling question of how it had become scrambled in the first place.
The technicians had taken scans, though, and were trawling through the data. The prevailing theory was that at some point, her implant had received a damaging blow that hadn't been noticed by anyone, including Harper herself.
That wasn't such a stretch of the imagination when you considered who Cadet Harper was. He'd already confirmed for himself that she was extremely clumsy.
Still, it was unsettling that no one had ever detected the damage to her implant; all TIs had internal diagnostic tools that were meant to alert their user of any problems immediately.
Well, according to the technicians, for some reason the internal sensors of her implant had screwed up too.
It was extremely unlucky, as they'd put it, but not completely impossible.
Though Carson had accepted their explanation, it sat heavily with him.
Nothing about this whole damn scenario felt right.
Still, he forced himself to walk along the long corridor that led to her apartment.
Then he paused in front of the door.
And he waited.
He waited a damn long time until he built up the courage to press the intercom and ask to be let in.
Nerves were kicking in his stomach, and he quickly flattened a sweaty palm over his mouth, trying to unstick the stupid smile that had frozen there.
Then, all too quickly, the door opened.
He looked across to see Alicia.
For a woman who barely knew him, she gave him a knowing wink. "Are you here to see our patient?"
Carson cleared his throat properly. "I just wanted to check on Harper??is she in?" he asked, trying to lean past Alicia to get a look at the apartment behind her.
He hadn't liked the way Alicia had winked at him.
Bridgett wasn't here, was she?
"Come on in," Alicia stepped to the side, gesturing to the large room behind her with a grand sweep of her arm. "You've mortified my flatmate by showing up uninvited, but she's just in her room. She'll be out in a second."
Carson coughed again.
Alicia was blunt.
Which wasn't a problem; he was used to blunt women. But at her quip about mortifying Harper, he knew his cheeks reddened. "I just wanted to check on her," he clarified, "put her mind at ease about the implant," he added.
"And what exactly was wrong with her implant? Have you heard the gossip doing the rounds?"
He looked at her sternly. "It was an isolated malfunction, nothing more."
"Oh, right, of course it was. People were taking bets, and my favorite was that Harper somehow ran into some crazy alien technology that altered her implant and made her even more accident prone than usual."
Maybe Alicia was expecting a laugh, but she didn't get one. Instead, Carson considered her stonily. "Your flatmate almost died yesterday," he said, his tone severe, "I think maybe you should be a little more respectful of that fact."
"It's okay," Harper said, appearing at her bedroom door and calling out to them.
It was so strange to see her standing there. It was also damn strange to see her door fixed. The last time he'd laid eyes on it, it had been a warped mess.
"Nida, I mean Cadet Harper," he coughed, realizing he was hardly on first-name terms with her.
Alicia appeared to swallow a smile, then walked off to the kitchen, no doubt to lean against the bench as she watched the show.
Nida kept standing in her doorway, apparently unwilling to walk further into the room. "I'm okay," she said firmly.
"Ah??yeah. Look, I just thought you ought to know that your implant is fixed. It was just an isolated fault," he stumbled over his words.
Christ, he really did feel like he was on a first date. Except he really, really wasn't.
So, with a comforting breath, he nodded firmly. "You should be okay now. It'll never happen again," he managed, but toward the end, he choked on his words.
Because he remembered something.
When he'd promised Harper everything would be fine just after he'd turned off her implant and saved her, she'd told him in a haunting tone that it wouldn't be.
Hot on the heels of that unpleasant memory, he recalled the two little words she'd whispered that morning as he'd watched her sleeping.
Help me.
God, his skin still crawled at how harrowing it had been.
He'd faced mercenaries, violent alien races, terrorist factions, and the worst scum of the galaxy, but those two little words and the tortured way she'd whispered them had terrified him.
He tried to reason that it had just been a dream and that she hadn't really been asking for his help.
She didn't say anything, and with a glance over her shoulder, appeared ready to retreat into her bedroom again.
He didn't want to let her go. He wanted to stand there and stare at her until he confirmed that there really wasn't anything wrong with her anymore.
"Ah, you should be able to go back to classes soon," he tried, stalling for time as he thought of something smart, if not actually useful to tell her.
"I went today," she admitted.
"Sorry? Really? I thought the doctors told you to go home," he pointed out quickly. Possibly a little too quickly, as she recoiled at his tone.
"They said it was my decision. Plus, I can't afford to miss any more classes. I'm woefully behind as it is."
He pressed his lips together and nodded. Then he looked up.
The words were on his tongue before he could think them through, "I could help you, you know. Help you catch up," he clarified with a truly awkward cough.
Alicia made a sound that was most definitely a strangled laugh.
And Harper, well, her eyes opened wide with surprise. "Don't you have more important things to do?"
He'd done a great job of putting himself on the spot here. The truth was, of course he had more important things to do. Though he was between missions with the Force, he knew a crucial operation was currently being planned. He should be preparing for it, or at the very least trawling through his paperwork. Yet here he was offering a no-hoper cadet a hand with her homework.
He caught himself as soon as he thought that.
She wasn't a no-hoper. That was a cruel way to put it. She was just??challenged.
Realizing that was hardly more polite, Carson simply decided to stop thinking about it.
Then he realized she needed a response, so he shifted his shoulders and offered a shrug. "I think it's the least I can do," he managed slowly, coming up with an excuse on the fly, "considering I almost got you killed."
"We've already talked about this," Nida sighed, "and it wasn't your fault. Nobody, including Sharpe and the doctors, noticed my implant was malfunctioning. You didn't do anything wrong."
Yeah, but he hadn't done anything right. He should have realized something was wrong after all the things he'd seen. That block in the training center had veered off toward her with frightening speed, and he should have figured out why.
Nida rolled her eyes. "You're not guilty. Nobody is. And you don't really want to help me catch up with my classes; you have other things to do, with far more important people," she added. "It's okay. You don't have to keep checking up on me. You've done your duty." She offered a brief if unsure smile, then took a step back. "If you don't mind, I'm kind of tired. Thank you again," she said quietly as she walked back into her room and closed the door behind
her.
He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye.
Though he could have overridden the lock on her door easily, he didn't. Not this time.
She'd made her desires clear, and it appeared she didn't want to see him.
He stood there understandably shocked.
He hadn't been rude, right? Had he come across as belittling at all? Had he insulted her by offering to help with her homework?
"Oh, just ignore her," Alicia remarked, "she's very tired. And when she gets tired, she gets grumpy. Really grumpy," she emphasized with a bob of her head.
Carson doubted that.
He couldn't imagine Nida getting grumpy at anything.
Well??except him.
He'd come here to check on her, and he'd somehow upset her along the way.
He felt like a fool.
Then he realized he could hardly stand there staring at Nida's door morosely.
Not with someone like Alicia watching him.
He straightened. "She's going to need to head to the technicians so they can check her implant again in the morning. It's just a precaution before she begins classes again," he told Alicia firmly. "And keep an eye on her," he added as he shot Nida's door one last look.
"Oh, I'm really busy," Alicia stated flatly. "I don't have the time. You'll have to do it yourself," she added, her tone tightening with interest.
"Find the time. She's your flatmate. You need to check on her regularly," Carson snapped.
"I know, and I will. But I won't be able to do so during the day," Alicia pointed out quickly, the tiniest of smiles lifting her lips and making her eyes sparkle. "I'm not in the same classes. So you'll have to do it yourself," she repeated.
He knew very well that she was manipulating him. He would not budge, though. "Harper has made it clear she doesn't want me checking up on her anymore. I need to respect that."
"She's grumpy," Alicia repeated as she flopped her hand at him dismissively. "Don't pay any attention to her. And I'm serious, if you want to know how she's going, well, you're just going to have to go find her tomorrow and see."
Carson knew he wasn't going to win, so he mumbled a brief goodbye and left promptly.
Then he stood outside of the apartment door as it swished closed.
He stared angrily at his feet.
That hadn't gone well.
With a grimace, he ran a hand over his head and forced himself to walk away.
He didn't like leaving things broken. That included everything from machines to relationships.
Not that he had a relationship with Harper of course.
?.
He just knew her. And for some damn reason, she occupied his attention. He couldn't get the image of her slumped on her bedroom floor out of his mind. Neither could he clear her whispered, "help me" from his ears.
But the point was his natural inclination was to go back and try to reassure her he hadn't meant to be insulting.
He hadn't always been this conscientious and polite. That had come with age and a little bit of hindsight.
He'd been a right card as an undergrad, and he now cringed at some of the things he'd done. He'd had a new date every other week, and he'd hardly cared about anyone's feelings apart from his own.
That had all changed, though.
He'd grown up.
And the terrible thing about growing up was that the older you got, the harder it became to ignore your responsibilities. Right now, he had a responsibility to patch things up with Harper and assure her that a) he didn't have more important people to see, and that b) she wasn't some kind of duty for him. She wasn't a mission or some task he could complete and get a commendation for.
She was a person. She'd needed help. He'd given it.
He had the awful, haunting feeling she still needed it too.
But he couldn't march back in there and demand she talk to him, so he made his way back to his own apartment instead. Then he sat there on his couch, staring at the view.
Maybe Alicia was right, and he ought to go find Harper tomorrow, just to check on her.
Okay, he was damn sure Sharpe would keep a watchful eye on his 'worst recruit in 1000 years,' but Carson would just drop by occasionally to confirm she was fine.
Yeah.
That's what he'd do.
With that conclusion calming him, Carson finally settled down for the night.
He had a restless sleep, though, and every time he woke, he found himself wondering just what Cadet Nida Harper would be dreaming of.