“Just need a few days to rest, a warm meal, and maybe some gas. We have no bites or scratches.”
“Are you armed?”
“Yes.” I move slowly, turning around to show him the gun sticking out of the waistband of my jeans. Priscilla bends forward to retrieve her weapon from her boot and brandishes her knife. The gate unlocks.
“No sudden movements,” a man announces, moving through the gate and quickly disarming us. “We’ll return these to you when you leave.”
I lift my chin in understanding and acceptance. I am in no position to argue or fight.
“Follow me.”
Taking Prissy’s hand in mine we enter Salvation.
We are led to a tan military tent behind the church. A couple dressed like they ransacked a yard sale at a farmhouse in the 1920s is waiting to greet us. The man is wearing handmade navy-blue pants and a dingy white long-sleeved open neck smock. The woman is wearing a dress that looks sewn together out of burlap sacks. “Welcome to Salvation. I’m Felix and this is my sister, Magon.” The way his eyes flicker over Priscilla makes me feel uneasy. His mouth is practically watering.
“I’m Asher and this is my wife, Priscilla.” Prissy gives me a cross look but I narrow my eyes on her, she better not fight me on this. My skin is prickling with awareness of something happening here that isn’t quite right. I can’t explain it, but it is just a feeling in my gut.
“You must be exhausted and hungry from your travels.” Magon turns to the table behind her, pouring us both cups of coffee. “We don’t splurge with sugar in our coffee, but I sprinkle some of this artificial French vanilla cappuccino mix in mine,” she tells us.
“This is fine. Thank you.” She smiles at me, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.
“Well, Priscilla, if you’ll come with me, I will take you to the female quarters and get you a change of clothes and you can make use of our facilities. We even have hot showers.”
Prissy shrugs and I want to protest, but we just arrived, and they did give us asylum. I’m too damn tired to argue.
Felix shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know she isn’t your wife. Don’t worry my interests are only pure of heart.”
“You don’t know shit.”
He eyes my tattoos. “Well. That remains to be seen. Let me give you the tour.” I reluctantly follow him out of the tent.
Chapter 6
—Priscilla
Salvation is a camp made up of around thirty survivors. Felix and his sister, Magon, are the overseers of the settlement. Everyone has a role to serve. They have a greenhouse and plan to plant a large garden next spring. No weapons are permitted by civilians in order to keep the peace. Felix thinks he is a messenger from God. In my opinion the man is a religious zealot and the sooner we are able to get out of here the better. The longer we are here the more I sense that he expects us to join his group of followers. He doesn’t think much of Asher. I can see the disdain on his face anytime they are near each other. Our first night was uneventful. We were given clean clothes and I had the best shower I have had since this whole mess started.
Hot water never felt so good. The camp runs on gas powered generators. I don’t see it being sustainable but for now it works for them. We ate dinner in Felix’s tent with him and Magon. They kept pouring us wine. I thought they were trying to get us drunk. They served some sort of venison stew. It was good and filling.
Asher and I were assigned to a private tent since Asher insists on keeping up the pretense that he is my husband. I guess he wants to make sure we aren’t separated again, and I am not complaining. It’s just when I heard him say the words aloud, they felt…almost right. Which is crazy to even be thinking about. The world is ending, and I am thinking about all the things I haven’t done. All the places I have never been to. All the times I could have been with Asher.
As soon as we laid our heads down, we were fast asleep, and I dreamt of Asher. His strong hands on me continuing where we left off. Him teasing me with his skillful fingers. Touching me in places he has never dared to venture before. Torturous and greedy his lips plant on my sensitive skin giving me what I crave most. I toss and turn as thoughts of him dominate my night until I finally fall into a deep slumber.
——
Asher is standing outside of the tent enjoying his morning cigarette. The fact that he smokes used to drive me crazy but now I love that even in the apocalypse he hasn’t lost that part of him himself. Stretching like a cat, I let out a yawn and then proceed to dress in my own clothes. I appreciate the sentiment of Magon giving me something of hers, but I much prefer my dirty jeans and torn Oscar The Grouch tee. I step out of the tent, coiling an arm around Asher. He flicks his cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the tip of his boot.
“Did you get any rest?” I stare at the tired dark circles under his eyes.
“Enough,” he grunts out.
“I don’t think they mean us any harm. They’re just different. And we’re new.”
“I don’t appreciate the way the men look at you,” he confesses. I can’t help but think back to the dirty dream I had about him and wondering if he knows the thoughts that I am having about him.
“You have nothing to be jealous about.” I smirk up at him as he stares down at me.
“You love to torture me, don’t you?” a faint smile registers on his handsome face. How did I never allow myself to enjoy his adoration for me before now? Why did it take the world coming to an end to make me see that we fit?
“I can think of plenty of things I’d love to do to you but none of them involve torture,” I murmur, going onto my tiptoes and wrapping both arms around his neck.
Asher lowers his head, bringing his forehead to rest against mine. His large left hand comes to a rest in the back pocket of my jeans, grabbing me with possession.
I am about to kiss him when Felix and Magon interrupt us.
“Did the clothes we gave you not fit?”
I disentangle myself from Asher. “The clothes were great. It’s just I prefer my jeans.”
“Here in Salvation we are quite modest, and we do have a dress code,” Felix says firmly.
“Breakfast will be in the church in ten minutes. If you want to eat, I suggest you change and get a move on. We don’t dilly dally around here. There is always work to be done.” All the pleasantries from yesterday are gone as Magon sneers at me.
Asher bites back his laughter. “We’ll be there.”
—Asher
“Shut up,” Prissy says, glaring at me as I take in her new dress.
I stroke my beard. “I don’t know, potato sack is a good look on you. Maybe add a belt and some earrings,” I tease, and she pouts. “Just play along until I can talk Felix out of some gas to get us back on the road. And hell, at least your clothes fit.” I look down at the handsewn pants that reach mid-calf and hug my nuts. The stupid shirt they gave me is cutting off circulation around my armpits. I just know if I stretch my arms the fabric will rip and the thread holding it together will unravel.
“You look ridiculous.” She combs her fingers through her long dark hair. It’s been a while since she has worn it down. All I want to do is wrap it around my fist and tug as I bring her mouth to mine but if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss breakfast and I’m hungry.
I let out a huffed breath. “Don’t I know it.”
We walk to the church and are the last to enter. Everyone stares at us and I feel on display. Where pews once were there are now two long tables. One set up as a buffet. Members of the camp are in a single file line to receive oatmeal and toast. It tastes like wet cardboard, but I eat it as if it were a prime rib steak. Priscilla forces the food down though I observe she is on the verge of gagging. A guy named Frank sits to my left and invites me to go with his scouting party. They venture out in small groups of five every two days to look for infected in the area. They also send out a weekly scavenger party to look for supplies. That’s the one I want to go out on. I need gas for my motorcycle, so we c
an get the hell out of here. The sooner we get back on the road to Paradise, the better. We don’t belong here.
Priscilla is volunteered to help the women with their chores: Laundry, cooking, and cleaning. I know she’d much rather go with me on the scouting party. Women however are not allowed. This Felix guy really has a hard on for playing boss. I’ll play his game for now until I no longer need the shelter and protection provided by him and his followers. I hate the idea of leaving Prissy here, but I know when push comes to shove, she’s tough. She can hold her own.
I set out with four other men. Frank is driving the truck and the rest of us are in the back. I’ve been given my Desert Eagle along with one of their rifles, but only for use during this mission if my life depends on it. The men are quiet and don’t seem much for making small talk. The oldest of our party scoots next to me, resting his back against the cab of the truck. “Don’t take it personal. Jeff is mute, and Ted is just an asshole.” He chuckles. “Name’s Walt.”
“Asher.” I shake his hand.
“Life in Salvation takes some getting used to. Felix is strict, but he keeps the place operating.”
I nod. I don’t doubt that one bit, but I still don’t trust the fucking turd.
Chapter 7
—Priscilla
Washing threadbare clothing by hand is not my idea of a good time. But the good people of Salvation are providing Ash and me with shelter and food. The least I can do is contribute to their cause for the day. I hope Asher finds gas and a way out of here soon. He was right about one thing. Something is definitely off here. The women are too quiet. They act as if they are afraid to speak freely around Magon. Even the children are quiet as they do their studies. I suppose they could be afraid of attracting the infected with too much noise, but still it feels unnatural. I would have much rather gotten to go on the scouting party with Asher and the other men. Felix wasn’t in attendance either. I heard him saying how he was needed here to do God’s work. I saw him and a girl who looked to be aged fifteen going into the storm shelter entrance at the back of the church. I am guessing it leads to the basement, and I can’t help but wonder exactly what his idea of God’s work is. Well I have my suspicions of what he is doing alone with a young girl in a basement.
“What’s under the church?” I question Magon as she brings me another basket of laundry to hang on the line.
“Storage for our canned goods and our armory. Why do you ask?” I can feel her studying me as I bend down to grab a shirt from the basket. I clip the shirt on the line with the clothespin and avoid meeting her gaze.
“No reason.” I hang another shirt on the line and retrieve two more, hoping if I work diligently the time will pass faster until Asher returns. Hopefully with good news.
A stressed smile crosses her face. “Well, keep up the good work.”
“Mhmm.” I start humming to myself as she walks away. Minutes later I see the same girl emerging from the back of the church carrying a bundle of fabric. I suppose I was wrong, but I still have that uneasy feeling. The work is boring and the conversation sparse as the day wears on. I’m not sure of it is because I am new or if this is just the way things are here, but I feel so out of place here and long for home. Crude bikers who take no shit but have hearts of gold. Those are my people—my family. I never realized how much I have missed my old life until now. Now that there is a chance I may never go home again. Asher gave my father his word that he would see me safely home but every day that passes that we don’t reach our destination I feel slithers of my former life fading away.
I eat dinner with the other community members but again I am met with more silence and my heart aches for Asher’s company. I have grown so accustomed to his presence that I physically hurt missing him.
It is nearly dark when Asher and the other men return. His clothes are bloodied, and I think there are bits of brain matter in his hair. The look on his face is murderous. His silvery grey eyes appear to be glowing with rage. He stomps past me. I’m not sure he even noticed me standing here waiting to greet him, to welcome him back. He has tunnel vision and I chase after him.
“Asher!” I grab his hand and he squeezes mine once then jerks away.
He is super pissed about something as he storms into Felix’s tent. “You,” I hear him growl. I step into the tent behind him with onlookers gathering around. “You sent me out there defenseless. My gun had one bullet and the other gun you gave me the clip was empty.” He grabs Felix by the collar of his shirt and pulls him from the chair he was seated in. His feet are dangling in the air as Asher shakes him like he weighs nothing.
“It is our way to test newcomers. You passed,” Felix responds dryly but red faced. Asher drops him, and Felix adjusts his shirt.
“We’re not part of your weirdo fucking group. I’ve had enough of your games.” He sheds the shirt and the too tight pants and struts out of the tent completely nude, walking toward the showers. Magon stares after him hungrily, looking like she wants to jump his bones. I’ll smack her nose off her face first and gouge out her eyeballs.
Felix smirks. “I understand that our ways are different and difficult to you, but I think you’ll want to stick around once you see what we are going to accomplish.”
I arch a brow at him. “God’s work?”
“Indeed.” He’s a smug asshole with a God complex.
“Hmmph.” I go to the tent assigned to Asher and me. I doubt we will be leaving on foot tonight. Asher isn’t that careless or reckless. Not when it comes to my safety.
I strip out of the sack dress and change into my Oscar tee and jeans. I make sure our gear is packed and ready to go in case I am wrong. The tent flap opens and Magon enters instead of Asher. “What can I do for you?”
“I thought we could talk. I know Asher doesn’t think much of my brother but he’s a great man. You’ll see.” She’s being cryptic, and I don’t like it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s doing God’s work. Uniting the living and the undead. In two days, we are having a grand celebration. The virgin bride has been chosen.”
“The whobba whatta? Did you just say virgin bride?”
“Yes. When you and Asher showed up outside our gate, Felix thought maybe you were the chosen one, but he knows better now.” More questions hang on the tip of my tongue. Like what the hell this celebration she is talking about is and who and the hell is this virgin bride speak of.
Our conversation is interrupted before I can ask my many questions. Asher struts into the tent with nothing but a towel on. He snarls when he sees Magon. Yup, he is still pissed off.
“I should go. I’ll leave you two to…well I’ll just leave you.” She looks down at the ground avoiding staring at Asher’s sexy body like I am doing.
“I packed our things.”
“Good,” he groans, popping his neck. “We leave tomorrow. That little prick nearly got me killed today. He sent me out there with one fucking bullet.” His chest heaves as I wrap an arm around his waist, pressing my face to his bare torso. The sound of the beat of his heart hammers in my ear wildly as he hugs me back. Looking up into his eyes I don’t know what I would do if something happened to this man. His lips touch mine and I grab hold of the thin towel wrapped around his waist and yank it away.
We descend on the small pile of blankets covering the air mattress.
I know I should tell him about the odd conversation I had with Magon and my sinking feeling about Felix and the basement, but I don’t know when we’ll have this chance again. I plan on taking full advantage of this moment.
—Asher
“Take these off,” I demand, yanking on the loops of Prissy’s jeans. Tonight, nothing is getting in my way. I’m taking what I’ve wanted for years. “None of that shit going on out there matters. In here, it’s just you and me, pretty girl.” This shitty day...this place...the only thing that can make it all go away is getting lost in Priscilla. I’m going to drown myself in her.
“Oh, Ash
, I do want you. You know that, don’t you? That part of me has always wanted you but I was scared we’d lose what we have.”
“You were just looking at it the wrong way, Pris. I have everything to gain in you. All I’ve ever needed or wanted is right here.” I place my hand over her heart and kiss her madly. Deeply. Her tongue sweeps against mine in gentle but passionate strokes. Holding her face between my hands, I don’t rush this moment. I’ve waited too damn long, and I intend to savor every second.
Every breath.
Every heartbeat.
Her tongue brushes against mine in soft sweet strokes. There is nothing in this this world I have loved more outside of my club not even my motorcycle. But honestly, I don’t know if my club will still be standing when we reach Paradise and I have all that I need in her. It’s always been Priscilla Leonard for me.
I’ve not been able to make contact with home for months. Paradise has gone dark like the night that surrounds us. Breaking away from Priscilla, I look up at the starless sky through the small skylight of our tent. I have never been the praying type, but I send up a prayer that somewhere out there someone is working on the cure to save humanity.
“Hey, you. I’m right here.” Priscilla tilts my chin down.
I gaze into her eyes seeing straight to her soul. “Right where you were always meant to be,” I tell her, meaning it with everything inside me. I slide her jeans down her legs, getting aggravated when they get caught on her ankles. I let out a growl and she giggles as my beard tickles her belly. My fingers glide through her slick heat, earning me sweet sounds in return. Her fingers thread through my dark damp hair. Trailing kisses on her stomach I move my head lower and lower until I am up close and personal with her sweet pussy.
“Ash,” she whispers my name like her only prayer, my chest constricts, loving the way it sounds.
Dark Paradise: The Apocalypse (Sons of Destruction MC Book 1) Page 3