by Kylie Scott
The big man frowned at her, too. Then he put an arm beneath her knees, another behind her back, and picked her up without comment. Also without the slightest show of strain. The Viking had to be made of solid muscle. She held herself rigid, trying to keep some distance between her and him on account of his being a complete stranger. A complete stranger who had locked up Nick, which made no fucking sense.
“You might as well relax,” he said.
She wearily did as she was told. “Thank you for this.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Well enough to know you shouldn’t have locked him up.”
Little lines appeared beside Sean’s eyes as he gave her a worried look, but off they went. Sunlight dazzled her as they stepped outside. It took her a moment to adjust. There were people, quite a lot of them. Many stopped what they were doing and gave her curious looks. She smiled back uncertainly. Neat rows of houses lined the street, with vegetable gardens filling the front yards where grass would once have been. Further down the road some kids played footy. Somewhere nearby a baby cried. It was all so normal, so right. This place was everything they’d taken for granted before the plague hit. Her eyes felt hot, gritty. Suburbia had always sort of peeved her previously, but now it was like nirvana. Growing up in cities, she’d never seen the beauty in this sort of scene. People building their houses a couple of meters apart from each other, everyone getting into everyone else’s business. Her father had moved them here there and everywhere, but there had always been tons of people around. Those days were gone. She’d never again expected to see a community. It’d only been half a year, but everything had changed so much.
“So this is Blackstone,” she said.
“Yes.”
“It’s lovely.”
He grunted.
She kept smiling, though few smiled back. In fact, no one did. Some people passed by with their faces downturned, but some stared openly, their eyes hard. What the fuck? It felt a long way from nice to be studied that way. Ros did her best to be calm. So not everything here was Pleasantville. There seemed to be a whole lot of tension in the air. Fear lined people’s faces.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are people so …”
Sean didn’t meet her eyes. “How much did he tell you about the night we came here?”
“Um, that you killed your leader, Emmet. That he was a psychopath,” she said. “Nick wanted him dead too.”
Sean snorted. “Did he? Guess we’ll never really know, will we?”
“Nick is not a bad person.”
“He’s not a good person either.”
They passed through what a street sign designated Main Street. Crops grew where asphalt would once have been. Big, graceful jacaranda trees stood along the median strip running down the middle of the road. Shop windows were covered in curtains, now homes for people to live in. But a huge hardware store stood open, packed to the rafters with various goods. The place looked to be a veritable Aladdin’s Cave of survival treasures.
“You’re wrong,” she said.
Across the road a group of people stood gathered deep in conversation. Sean gave them a long, wary look. A sturdy, muscular young man turned and scowled at Roslyn and Sean. At Ros in particular. His face tensed and he looked at her like she’d personally massacred millions. Inspiring such hatred in someone she didn’t even know felt bloody unnerving. Being in Blackstone seemed like a truly bad idea all of a sudden. This place didn’t feel safe, no matter the wall keeping the infected out.
“What the hell is going on here?” she hissed.
“Quite a few people died that night. One of them was a man named Sam Cotter. He’d been holding the place together, but he got bit,” said Sean. “There’s been a lot of internal fighting since then. Seems like he was the only person that could get everyone to agree. Since then, the welcome mat hasn’t exactly been laid out to newcomers.”
At the end of Main Street they turned left. The police station was surrounded by flowering bushes. A man with a sawn-off shotgun stood outside the front door on guard duty. Not so normal or pretty.
“Why do they need a guard?” she asked.
Sean shot her a look she couldn’t read. The guard nodded to Sean and held the door open. Inside it looked like a typical country police station. A counter and some chairs, and beyond was an office area. Lots of white walls and filing cabinets, a collection of old wanted signs. Off to the side, she could just make out the bars of a cell. Sean carried her straight through. Behind a desk a handsome blond young man sat cleaning a gun. But more importantly, where was Nick?
“Put me down, please,” she asked.
“Hey, Finn.” Carefully Sean set her down on her feet, holding her elbow steady while she found her feet. Sean was nice. “She wants to see him.”
“Why?” asked the cute, albeit serious, blond. His face was curious but not unfriendly. How refreshing.
Knees wobbling, she circumnavigated the Viking. Nick sat on the wide cot pushed up against one wall, his chin braced on his hands, staring off at nothing. Giddy delight filled her at seeing him.
“Nick?”
He blinked and turned his head. He didn’t smile back at her. “Roslyn. What are you doing here?”
A new big black bruise took up half his temple, sitting out in a swollen lump. He made no move to come to her, just sat on the stupid mattress giving her closed looks.
Like she couldn’t read him by now.
“What the hell happened to your face?” she yelled.
Nick sighed. He rose and strolled toward her, bracing a hand on the bars. “Calm down. It’s not like you haven’t done worse.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Don’t pout.” His fingers stroked over hers, wrapped around a length of cold metal. This was ridiculous. Unacceptable. “How are you feeling?”
“Why are you in here?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
“I wasn’t supposed to come back,” he said. “But, you know, this cell is better than being shot on sight. What are you doing out of bed, hmm? You still look really pale.”
“I’m fine.”
He frowned at her. Why not? People had been frowning at her all day. She’d started to get used to it. Hell, she frowned right back at him. “They threatened to shoot you on sight and you willingly chose to come here?”
He just looked at her.
“Ms. Stewart.” The pretty blond man who’d been cleaning the gun stood close by, his mouth set in an unhappy line. “Nick informed us he kidnapped you and held you against your will.”
“Nick!” She turned back to the idiot in the cell, moving too fast. Her head felt topsy-turvy. “That was personal. How could you tell them that?”
“It’s the truth,” he said calmly, like he was resigned to his dire circumstances. People heading to the chopping block probably had a similar joie de vivre. “What I did was wrong.”
“What you did is between us. I can’t believe you.”
The pretty blond cleared his throat. “Ah, Ms. Stewart—”
And honestly, she’d had enough of this shit. More than enough of it. “Open the door. Let him out. He didn’t hurt me. Though I may hurt him.”
“But, by his own admission, he did hurt you. He held you against your will, at the very least.”
She growled. Men! They were all such fools. “Do not try to tell me you are punishing him for things he supposedly did to me. I decide how that works, not you. You are not involved in this. None of you.”
The pretty blond just blinked.
“And I’m not pressing charges, so don’t try to tell me it’s about the law either. Let him out.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” said the pretty blond.
“Roslyn, it’s more complicated than that,” Sean said, stepping forward to take the blame. “A lot of people in town don’t trust Nick. Letting him walk out of here would not be in his best interests. You noticed people weren’t happy. They’re still coming to terms with what happened
that night. They thought they were safe inside these walls and they found out the hard way that they’re not.”
“He’s right,” said the pretty blond. “For a lot of people, it was a big shock on top of what they’d already suffered. Nick would make a good target to take their fears out on right about now.”
“What?” Her brain hurt. They couldn’t be serious. Blackstone was fast turning from a dream into a nightmare. “Are you telling me someone still might try to kill him? Are you fucking serious?”
“We won’t let that happen,” said the pretty blond, looking highly competent but not soothing her in the least. This was Nick’s life they were talking about. If anyone would be killing him, it would be her. And she didn’t want him dead, so there.
“I’m sorry, what was your name?” she asked.
“I’m Finn,” the pretty blond said. “Town sheriff, basically. Sean’s right. For now, Nick’s safer in here. If what you’re saying is true and he didn’t hurt you, eventually it might be best if we move him out quietly once things calm down. Let him be on his way.”
“Move him out quietly?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’d send him back out there. Mind you, after what I’ve seen of this place that might not be a bad idea.”
“You’d stay,” the big idiot in the cage announced. “You’re safer here.”
She doubted that, but it was beside the point. The idiot was trying to separate them. Now, after everything. “Shut. Up. Nick. The adults are talking.”
Nick gave her another less-than-impressed look. “Ros.”
“I’m serious. You’ve said enough this year.” The world went wonky and she swayed, hip banging into the bars. “Whoa.”
“Get her a chair,” said Nick.
“No,” she said with vehemence. Because for all the supposed intelligent life forms surrounding her just then, not one of the three men was making a shitload of sense. “Open the door. If you won’t let him out, then I’m going in.”
Nick paced in his cage. “Like hell. You just got shot.”
“That was days ago. Keep up.”
Finn offered her a hand. “Ms. Stewart—”
“Roslyn,” she corrected.
“Roslyn,” said Finn. “Please, let me help you to a seat.”
“No. I’m staying with him,” she said. “Did I happen to mention I committed vehicular manslaughter the other day?”
“It was self-defense,” said Nick.
“No,” she said, waving her finger at one and all. “Justin shooting me might have been self-defense, but I chose to run him down. So actually it’s not manslaughter, is it? How far in advance does one need to plan before you can say it was pre-meditated, exactly?”
No reply was forthcoming from the sheriff.
“Never mind,” she said. “I am a vicious and unrepentant killer who should be locked up. With him, my idiot boyfriend.”
Finn stared at her, blank-faced.
Nick just looked pained. Fuck him. Love hurt.
“Open the cell door please, Sheriff Finn.”
“Don’t,” said Nick. “Get her out of here. She doesn’t belong here.”
She shot him a filthy look. What an asshole, working against her. “Seriously, Nick. I am so mad at you right now I can’t even say.”
Nick didn’t back down. “Finn, she’s wounded, for fuck’s sake. Please.”
The sheriff looked at them both like they needed the loony bin more than anything, their eyes full of confusion.
“Go on, Finn.” Another woman stood beside Lila, leaning against a desk. Roslyn hadn’t even noticed the two of them enter. Lila watched her with worried eyes, two pillows and a blanket clutched to her chest. What a wonderful woman.
“I figured you’d be staying down here,” she said, earning a bright smile from Ros. At last, someone who made sense. Maybe this town wasn’t a total waste.
“Thank you, Lila,” said Ros.
“Hi. I’m Ali.” The other woman raised a hand and gave her a smile. Her small, round belly pushed at the front of her shirt. “You probably don’t remember me. I spent some time sitting by your bedside while Lila ran errands.”
Finn crossed his arms. “Al, you’re meant to be home resting.”
“Pregnant, not broken,” said the woman in a bored tone of voice. “Let her go in with him.”
The sheriff didn’t back down one iota. “This doesn’t involve you.”
“You heard what she said, Finn. She chose him.” Ali rubbed her belly, unperturbed. “Every time she woke up she asked for him. Without fail.”
“Stay out of it.”
Ali cocked her head. “You of all people should know relationships are complicated. Go on. Let her be with him.”
“Al. This is business.”
“Why, so it is.” Ali gave her a small smile. It seemed she had friends she didn’t even know about. Blackstone was looking better by the minute. “Actually, I feel quite endangered by her presence. Don’t you, Lila?”
“Absolutely,” said Lila. “She terrifies me. Right, Sean?”
“Shit.” Sean wiped a hand over his face. He gave the dark-haired Lila a similar pained expression to the one Nick kept gifting Ros. Not bad, but Nick’s was cuter. Lila raised her eyebrows and the Viking groaned in defeat. “Never been so scared in my life. She’s so small and … wounded.”
Lila beamed at him and the big man smiled back reluctantly, the love he had for the woman clear on his face.
“Please, Finn,” said Ali, her eyes full of warmth and good humor. “Save us. You’re our last hope.”
“Fucking ridiculous.” Finn pulled a key a set of keys out of his pocket and shoved one into the lock. The door swung open and he stepped back. “Roslyn, if you change your mind just call out, okay?”
“Thank you.”
“Yay!” quietly cheered Ali.
“That’s enough out of you.” The sheriff gave the pregnant woman a long look. “We’re going to talk about this later.”
“I am at your disposal, my love,” Ali answered with a smile.
Roslyn stepped inside the jail cell. There really was a first time for everything. If she’d been feeling half-alive she might have strutted. Thrown in a little Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’ hip swivel, maybe just for fun. As it was, dragging her sorry carcass to the bed was about the most she could manage. Her legs were all wibbly-wobbly. Nick stood with his arms folded across his broad chest, doing his best to intimidate her or something. Yeah, right. She wished him all the best with that.
“Lucky I happen to like that scowly face on you,” she said. “Move over.”
He did so and she carefully lay down on the wide single bed. Oh yes indeed, that felt good. The cot was actually more comfortable than it looked. Life on the inside wasn’t so bad. Someone had even done some etchings on the wall beside her. They most closely resembled a man fornicating with a woman whose breasts were wildly oversized. The poor stick figure couldn’t hope to support such watermelon boobies, let alone handle the size of the guy’s equipment. The artist had been a real overachiever.
Lila shoved the pillows and blanket at Nick. “Get some food into her. Keep her comfortable. Send for me if she needs anything. Otherwise, I’ll be back later with her meds.”
The cell door clanged shut and Finn locked it. She was officially incarcerated. Huh. The places life could take you.
“Ah, life on the inside,” she said. “How did the theme from Prisoner go again?”
“This isn’t funny.” Nick knelt down beside her, dumping the linens on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“Spending time with my beau,” she said. “You?”
He breathed out a heavy sigh, poor boy. “I’m no good for you, Ros.”
“You’re awful cute when you trying to be self-sacrificing, Nicky. Less so when you’re blurting out our personal affairs, but still.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Yes, so I see. I think you better hop down off the cross, honey. Someone else might need the wo
od.” She stroked his cheek with her good hand, teased the bristle of his beard. The hair on his jaw was a darker shade of brown than his head. He had the hottest mouth. The things that mouth could do. Hmm. Happy thoughts flooded her and her body came sluggishly awake, despite the pain meds and the ache in her shoulder. “What am I going to do with you?”
Nick wrapped his hand around her wrist, his thumb stroking over her pulse point. “You’re going to let me go. You’re safer away from me.”
“Perhaps. But I doubt it. I know for certain I wouldn’t be happier. Funnily enough, these days, that really matters to me.”
He said nothing.
“Nick,” she sighed. “It will never belong in a Hallmark card, but I drove a car into a house and killed a man for you. You chained me up for days and I still wanted to come back and talk over our darkly sordid, slightly kinky, and a lot warped relationship. Face it, you’re stuck with me.”
His brows drew tight. “You’re high as a kite right now, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” She grinned. Actually, she felt pretty fucking fantastic now that she’d gotten her way. “Did you miss me? Admit it, you did, didn’t you.”
He gave her his exasperated face. The edges of his lips tucked down, brows drew in. Her poor, pretty boy. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d take his shirt off for her if she asked. What an awesome idea. Maybe after she’d had a nap. Yeah, she’d be sure to ask him then.
“638,” she said.
“What?”
“638. You’re my honey. That’s where I’d shelve you.” Her eyelids drifted closed. “You won’t go anywhere, will you?”
“I can’t. We’re both in jail. You just saw to that.”
“Excellent,” she mumbled, settling back into the mattress. So damn tired, she could have slept for a year. “Good job.”
“Get some rest, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Nick sat idle as Roslyn slept. He’d been staring at her, staring at the wall, feeling like shit. Getting her out had to be his first priority. But until she started working with him he didn’t like his chances. The woman could be bloody stubborn.