by Paige Weaver
Keely stared off into the distance. Her blonde hair was matted and her face was still marked with bruises from Hightower’s fist. She hadn’t spoken since that day. She just stared off into space and followed us. My heart twisted every time I looked at her. I felt guilty for not being able to protect her. She would wake me at night, screaming. I knew what he had done to her. There was no forgetting it. There was just going on.
One step further.
One hour more.
One day then another.
I glanced away from Keely and around the little grouping of trees we hid under.
“We need to find food,” I said, squinting against the sunlight.
“How we gonna do that?” Tate grumbled past broken, dry lips. “We ain’t seen a person in a day and there’s nothing around but trees and more trees.”
He was right. We were in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing. The truth was, we were lost. Yesterday, we got turned around and nothing looked familiar. We had tried backtracking but it had only got us more confused. I tried not to panic for Tate and Keely’s sake. We would find our way back to a town.
But first we needed to find food.
“We can walk and see if we find a house,” Tate said. It was risky, knocking on a stranger’s door when the world had gone to hell. Two days ago, we had spotted a rundown shack sitting off the main road. Paper had been plastered over the windows and numerous cats roamed the rickety porch. I had knocked on the front door as one of them hissed at me from a broken chair. A second later, the end of a shotgun was pointed at my face and a man was roaring at us to get off his property.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore,” I muttered, resting my chin on my knees with defeat.
A breeze rattled the leaves above us. It felt good on my overheated skin. This would be a good place to die of starvation. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Away from the madness. I sighed. I couldn’t give up. Not yet.
Exhausted beyond measure, I didn’t jump when Keely snagged the stick from Tate. But I did sit up straight and pay attention when she started writing something in the dirt.
I tilted my head to read it. So did Tate.
“Gun. Hunt,” Tate muttered, reading the words.
I glanced up at Keely. She had anger in her eyes and held the stick like she wanted to whack someone with it.
She stabbed the stick under the word ‘hunt’ when Tate and I stared at her, dumbfounded and confused because of hunger.
“Hunt,” I repeated weakly.
“What’s there to hunt around here?” Tate grumbled. “I ain’t seen nothing but a few little sparrows and a worm or two. I ain’t gonna eat ’em.”
I looked around. Waves of heat rose above the gray asphalt of the road. On the other side stood a barbed wire fence, half of it lying on the ground. Behind the fence was another clump of trees. As I watched, something scurried up one of the massive trunks.
“Squirrel,” I said, the idea coming to me.
Tate turned and glanced across the road too, following the direction of my gaze.
“I’ll do it,” he said as if hunting squirrels was something he had done all his life.
Standing up, he dusted off his jeans (a useless act since we were filthy anyway) and dug in the backpack at his feet for a gun.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked, as he checked it for bullets. I was so tired and hungry that just saying that simple sentence took all my effort.
Tate rolled his eyes as he held the gun pointed at the ground. “Aim and pull the trigger. How hard can it be?”
Hard enough, I guessed later. It took half the day for Tate to kill the squirrel. He had to venture deeper into the field across the road and wait for long periods of time under the trees. One time, I lost sight of him. I kept my eyes glued to the place I had last seen him, praying for him to reappear again. My knee bounced with nerves as I waited. Come back now, come back now. Finally, he emerged between two straggly mesquite trees, a brown fuzzy animal hanging from his hand. A big smile lit up his blistered face as he headed back across the road toward Keely and me.
“Hit the sucker right in the head,” he announced with pride, holding the squirrel out for us to see.
I squinted up at the furry thing. At a close range, I realized that squirrels were nasty looking little things.
I jumped to my feet and dusted off the seat of my jeans. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.” I was ready to tear into the squirrel.
Tate wrinkled up his nose and looked down at it. “You going to skin and gut it?”
I raised one eyebrow. “Uh, no.”
Tate sighed and shifted onto his other foot. “Shit, me either.”
In the end, Tate gutted the animal and I skinned it. We roasted it over a tiny fire we managed to start with a lighter Tate had found in an abandoned car. The squirrel tasted a little burnt and I found little hairs in my pieces, but it was the best tasting meal I ever had.
Starvation could do that to a person. Whittle you down to the basics. Make every little bite extraordinary. I no longer took food for granted. Instead, every meal was special, every mouthful incredible, because I never knew when I would eat again.
I was as hungry now as I was then. I bundled deeper into my jacket and glanced around, trying to focus on something else. Outside the ring of fire, it was pitch dark. The kind of night where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Thick clouds hid the stars and moon. The temperature had dropped, chilling the air to a bone-numbing temperature.
I glanced across the fire at Cash. He was sitting on a log on the other side of the fire pit. His elbows were on his knees and his hands were hanging between his legs. His hat was gone and his gaze was focused on the red and blue flames. I was wondering if I could really do it? If I could really stay away from him.
I studied him in the firelight, wondering what he was thinking. Was he going over the plans in his head that him and David had discussed earlier? Was he thinking about the road we needed to take that would lead us home? Was he contemplating the plan to stay clear of any towns or people? Was he wondering if David’s old truck could get us home? The preacher was going with us. There was nothing left for him here but death and starvation. If Frankie and the militia found him, I cringed to think what they would do. No, the preacher had saved our lives.
We were going to save his.
I glanced over at David. He was sitting next to Tate, both of them talking in low tones as they waited for the chicken to cook. Like Cash, David had taken Tate under his wing. Many times I had heard him teaching Tate patience and the importance of being honest and respectful. I didn’t know if it was sticking, but Tate seemed captivated by the older man and absorbed every word he said. He had no male to look up to anymore. Our father was gone and Nathan was dead. Cash and David were it. But family is more than just blood. It is a kinship that even the worst can’t tear apart. It is caring for each other through thick and thin.
I looked over at Adam, wondering if he had any family left. He was sitting off to the side by himself, his hands tied in front of him. He hadn’t spoken much since earlier and no one had tried to talk to him either.
He was staring off into the darkness. His mouth was turned down in a frown and his body was wound tight. He seemed ready to spring into action at any minute, as if he was waiting for someone to leap out of the shadows.
I felt my pulse race. Did he know something we didn’t? I wondered if Cash noticed Adam’s weird behavior. If he did, he didn’t show it or seem worried. He was staring at me instead.
Despite my best efforts to play indifferent, the air left my lungs in a soft whoosh. The world stopped. His gray eyes were fixed on me from across the fire. I couldn’t look away. I was mesmerized, bound to him with just a look. We were suddenly a million miles away from the campfire and rustic cabin. We were back in the swanky bathroom on our first date. Back when he lifted me onto the counter. Back when I was lost, drifting aimlessly in a sea of self-destruction and self-absorption. But
he found me.
And I would never be the same again.
“I think this little fellow is ready to eat,” David said, leaning over to pick up the makeshift skewers the pieces of chicken dangled from.
“Hallelujah!” Tate said with a big shout, jumping to his feet and grabbing the stack of chipped bowls I had brought from the cabin. “Let’s eat, preacher man!”
I tore my gaze away from Cash and smiled at Tate’s enthusiasm. For the first time in a long time, he looked like a young boy again. Free. Happy. Lighthearted. Innocent.
My chest swelled. For that one moment in time, I felt whole. I had nothing. Not a home. Not another set of clothes. Not a dime to my name or fancy things to make me feel good. My future was a mystery and my present was a harsh reality, but watching my little brother smile filled me with something.
Peace.
I laughed out loud when Tate started doing a little dance, waiting for David to fill the bowls. Adam snorted with amusement and David started humming some fast song as he pulled off pieces of chicken and dropped them into the bowls. I felt the excitement. We had something to eat. We were leaving tomorrow for home.
We would be okay.
David joined Tate, dancing in place. They kicked up dirt and came dangerously close to the fire but they didn’t care. David started singing, making up his own words, and Tate joined in, sounding off key.
I laughed, throwing my head back and letting the sound escape. God, it had been so long since I did that.
As I watched Tate and David, I felt Cash watching me from across the fire. His mouth was turned up in a gentle, lopsided smile.
My laughter died. My grin stayed. It had been so long since I saw him smile that I was blown away all over again. The cold against my cheeks was forgotten. The fear of leaving was ignored. It was just him and me and this thing between us that wouldn’t let us go no matter how hard we fought it.
His eyes turned dark with heat. My body burned under my layer of clothes. I felt his gaze down to my marrow. The pull of him was undeniable. The effect indescribable.
He glanced away from me as David called his name. Rising to his feet, he walked over to where David was filling the bowls.
I lowered my eyes and smoothed a shaky hand over the leg of my jeans. Holy shit. The man could leave me breathless and shaky and all things that felt so right. He could do it all with just a word. Just a look. Just a smile. It was unfair and outrageous and I had to resist him.
“Cat.”
I looked up. Cash was standing beside me, holding out a tin bowl. His voice was warm, smooth, and satisfying. My name on his lips sounded sinful.
I took the bowl from him, feeling nervous and jittery all at once.
He sat down beside me on the log, cradling his own bowl in his palm. The makeshift seat wasn’t big enough for both of us. His leg rested against mine and his arm bumped my forearm and shoulder.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. I stared at his profile as he started to eat, lost in the shape of his jaw and the fullness of his lips. He parted them and lifted a piece of chicken to his mouth.
David paused in handing Adam a bowl of steaming chicken and coughed, raising one eyebrow at Cash.
“I know you aren’t a praying bunch but we should say a prayer before we eat,” he said in a solemn tone, the man that had danced and sang forgotten and the seriousness of what we faced remembered. “We need all the help we can get for tomorrow, kids.”
Reprimanded, Cash lowered his fork. David grunted with approval and lowered his head, He started praying in a solemn, deep voice, asking God to watch over us.
Tate started eating, glancing at the preacher every few seconds with amused interest. I gave him a warning glare and raised my eyebrow. He sighed and closed his eyes but still tried to stuff chicken into his mouth blindly.
I lowered my eyes but not before I saw Adam with his head down and eyes closed. I didn’t peg him for a religious man but the war and EMP had changed people – some for the better and some for the worse. Some for a little of both.
Closing my eyes, I bowed my head. David prayed for our safety and our swift return home. He prayed for God to keep away evil and thanked Him for my recovery. I felt Cash shift beside me when David mentioned my name. Opening my eyes, I glanced at him.
His eyes were open and he was staring at the fire, listening to David’s words. He shifted the bowl into his other hand and ran a palm over his thigh closest to me, his fingers touching my leg lightly. My heart beat faster. The friction between us grew.
Too soon, David finished and everyone started eating. Despite my hunger, I nibbled at the chicken. Nothing had ever tasted as good but my mind was on something else. The man beside me and his words from earlier. ‘I’m not staying away from you, Cat. Not until I’m ready.’
I felt his eyes on me in the firelight, watching me pick at the pieces of chicken.
“Eat,” he demanded in a low voice, nodding at the bowl in my hand.
I decided maybe it was better to argue than to fight the magnetic pull of him. “Cash, I don’t want to—”
He leaned closer, his voice dropping lower, sliding over me. “I wore you out today and I damn sure want to wear you out some more. Eat, Beauty Queen.”
I stuck up my chin – something I was good at – and ignored the way my skin felt too hot. “I told you to stay away from me. Have you already forgotten that?”
His eyes narrowed. “No. Have you forgotten that you said you’d do anything for me or do you need to be reminded?”
I huffed and averted my gaze, hating how he was affecting me. “Trying to assert your dominance again, cowboy? It won’t work this time.”
Cash tilted his head. “Oh, really? Is that a dare?”
I rolled my eyes and shifted my knees away from him. “No, it’s a fact. I’m immune. Your moves won’t work on me anymore. These legs are permanently closed.”
He grabbed my knee and pulled me back to him. Leaning over, he put his mouth near my ear. “As much as I want to talk about your legs, sweetheart, we need to talk about you doing anything for me. I want you to eat. If you can get down on your knees when I asked, you can eat when I insist.”
I burned at the reminder. His voice caused me to shiver. Glancing around, I made sure no one was listening. They weren’t, too busy eating to notice or hear.
I met Cash’s gaze again and raised one eyebrow. “Insist all you want. It was a one-time thing. We’re over just like you wanted.” I started to take my bowl and get up but he put a hand on my leg, stopping me. A tick appeared in his jaw. I might have a love/hate thing with that.
“What I want and what I need are two separate things, Cat. Right now, I want you to eat.”
“And later?” I whispered, unable to resist.
He glanced down at my lips then back up. “Later, I need you to hate me because I’m going to touch you again, Cat. I’m going to make love to you and listen to those little whimpers you make when you come. Afterward, I’ll wish I never had touched you. I’ll regret every second because it won’t keep you safe or save your life and it damn sure will fuck with my brain. So that’s what I need – for you to hate me because anything else is more than I can take.”
Chapter Twenty–Four
Cat
By the end of the night, I managed to eat two bowls of chicken. How, I’m not sure because my stomach was in knots and my mind was replaying Cash’s words.
I need you to hate me.
I’m going to touch you again.
I’m going to make love to you.
I’ll regret every second.
Each was like a heavy weight dropped on me but the last ones were like shards of glass cutting into me.
He didn’t say anything else the rest of the night but he kept an eye on me as he talked with David about the route we would take tomorrow, making sure I ate. He stayed near me when he questioned Adam on Frankie and his men. And he didn’t venture too far when he told Tate to try to get some sleep. By t
he time I headed back to the cabin, the air between us was thick with awareness. One more look, one more accidental touch, one more word spoken in private, and we wouldn’t be able to control ourselves.
We would shatter.
That wasn’t an option. We were over. I avoided love, hope, and happiness before. I could do it again. They caused nothing but pain and heartache. Love tore your insides apart when the person you loved was yanked away from you. Hope made you feel dead inside when it was taken. Happiness left a bad taste in your mouth when it was abused. I understood what Cash was feeling too well.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
I wrapped my arms around my middle and tucked my chin into my collar as I walked up the porch steps. Tate was already inside, tying Adam up for the night. David and Cash were still by the fire, talking in low tones.
I paused on the third step and glanced back at them. Cash was staring into the flames, listening silently as David spoke and nodding his head every few seconds as if he agreed or understood.
I studied him. He was quiet power and calm strength all wrapped up in one. He could kill with a look or calm me with a touch. He knew me like no one else and had touched a part of me that no one had since Luke. How I was supposed to stop loving him, I wasn’t sure.
He looked up at me, his eyes piercing even from a distance. Tension lined his body. Coolness oozed from him.
David looked over his shoulder at me, following Cash’s gaze. He said something and Cash gave a curt nod and looked away.
Confused, I watched as David headed straight for me. Cash was left alone, staring into the fire, his body all shadows and ridges in the light from the flames.
I tore my gaze away from him as David walked up the porch steps toward me.
“He’s going to take first watch. Why don’t you go on to bed, honey?” he said, more a command than a request.
I glanced at Cash again. “Is that your demand or his?” I asked David.
He chuckled. “What do you think?”
“His.”
“Bingo,” David said, walking the rest of the way up the stairs.