“Everybody get back to bed. They’ll tell us about it in the morning.”
She wouldn’t dare to imagine Travis limping toward his tent. It was too much to hope for that his stride accelerated as he single-mindedly sought her.
It felt like hours before hushed footsteps disturbed her depression and Number Six started huffing and squeaking excitedly. She heard River’s tent being unzipped… and then her own.
Afraid to believe in him, but too desperate not to, Scarlett lifted her head. The full moon was a lantern and she could see that his face was dirty and tired, but whole, and his clothes were saturated with blood. He could see the wetness on her cheeks and all the un-eased fear in her eyes.
They couldn’t fall on each other as Riley and River were doing just yards away. She couldn’t ask what had kept them and how he was alive, and he couldn’t tell her, not yet. Not while it was still raw and the hair still tingled on the back of his neck. So he toed off his boots and set down his weapons while she watched and waited for any glitches; for any sign that she was hallucinating.
He zipped up the tent again and crouched down on the floor. Scarlett remembered that she was in his sheets, so unfolded them and scooted to give him more room than he needed. Travis settled in and lay there absolutely still. Scarlett didn’t think she’d ever been further from sleep; her entire body ached with not touching him. She wanted to press herself against him and hold him, holding her, until she was convinced that he was real, but she thought that that kind of contact, from anyone, might send him into a state of shock.
She settled for passing him most of the blankets; she was too flushed to want anything but his skin on her own.
They lay there, counting each other’s breaths until Travis seemed to realise that they would be trapped there forever unless something changed. His voice scraped the dark as he spoke.
“Engine seized up. On our way back. Fuckin’ thing just died. And we musta’ been on the only empty road in the goddamn world. It was dark, so we stayed in the truck. Next day we walked a little way, five miles or so, grabbed another car and headed back here,” he sat up, took a swig from his canteen and wiped his mouth with his hand before continuing, “Road was a little more crowded on the second pass. Got a little hairy. Mostly cause that dumbass, Riley brought the wrong calibre ammo for his piece. He ain’t that efficient with a knife.”
The rest of the story was in what he didn’t say. They were massively outnumbered; for them to have to use their guns, to have to reload. Scarlett wondered what state the car was in.
She imagined Riley and Travis, back to back, each shooting out his own window, switching to knives when hands started reaching inside.
How many had there been? How close had they come?
A shiver coursed through her and she didn’t want to hear any more.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
He gave a grunt in response.
“Seriously, Chino was about to start a revolution; take over leadership.”
“I’m sure the little man’s welcome to it.” The laugh that accompanied his statement was real and Scarlett knew that they were past the disaster. Neither of them was going to mention it again.
She still wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn’t know how. Instead, Scarlett turned over onto her side and sought his face in the dark. If he felt her watching, Travis kept his eyes closed anyway. His chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths and by timing hers to them, Scarlett was able to drift off to sleep.
Temporarily.
Nothing stopped her nightmares. She could only ever hope that they weren’t the screaming kind, didn’t leave her shaking and nauseous for the rest of the next day. They were so familiar now that Scarlett didn’t think they could change; but there was always room for new fears.
Held down, helpless, desperate, hurting; her own role was the same as it ever was. Travis’ presence was almost as much of a shock as his screams.
They tore him apart in front of her. There had never been so much blood. His face was like she’d never seen it; stripped of everything but fear and pain.
There was so much blood. There was too much blood. Too much blood for real life.
Dreaming.
Wake up. Wake up!
A drowning gasp and not a scream marked her entrance back into the real world, but Scarlett didn’t arrive all at once. Her arm flew out to the side, desperately reaching for Travis; searching for confirmation of life, proving that he was really back with her and not dead on the highway.
She found his wrist, warm and strong under her fingers. There was tension, he flinched as she brushed his skin, but he wasn’t entirely unprepared. Wrenching her eyes open, Scarlett found him staring at her, waiting for her.
Of course he hadn’t woken her after the last time; she might have actually killed him tonight.
She felt the blankets tangled around her legs and knew that she had at least been thrashing, and probably talking, in her sleep. Her face felt hot.
She snatched her hand away from Travis’ wrist and clenched her fists as she tried to slow her racing heart.
“What was it?” Travis asked.
Slowly, Scarlett turned back toward him and found his blue eyes waiting for her. His face was gentle, not mocking, and she felt the softness of his words ease her chest. He’d never asked before and Lord knows he’d seen her in this state before. He would ask now; the one time that everything was different.
“Engine just seized up,” she whispered, “On your way back. There were Biters everywhere.”
Travis stiffened and Scarlett closed her eyes, turning her head back to face the roof of the tent. The nightmare was nothing, nothing compared to what had gripped her before she fell asleep. The terror of his death was a living thing; cold, black and choking her. She didn’t really want him to know, but she couldn’t keep it inside.
“Everything was falling apart. None of us knew what to do. We didn’t know how we were going to go on. I didn’t know how I was--” the threat of a sob cut off a sentence that she didn’t know how to end anyway. Not that she would have had the chance, because Travis was on top of her then, not comforting, but almost snarling, pinning her shoulders to the ground.
“You’d fuckin’ go on,” he said, his face so close she could feel his breath, “You hear me?” he shook her, “I don’t care how, you’d just fuckin’ go on. Jesus.”
If he was expecting an answer, he was disappointed because Scarlett had none to give. Startled, but not scared, she stared up into his face, marvelling the wildness in his eyes, something which looked almost like fear. With his hold still tight on her, she couldn’t reach up to embrace him like she wanted to but, bending her arms at the elbows, she placed her palms on the backs of his arms, gently reassuring him that she was there, and would be for as long as she could. A few moments passed and they just stared intensely at each other.
And then, suddenly, Travis kissed her. The crush of his mouth on hers was only really pleasant in the sense of desperation Scarlett could feel in it. His need for her, whatever it was driven by, pushed out any other feeling she was having except her own aching desire. But she didn’t dare to moan; she didn’t dare to whimper, which the more likely sound was given that she thought he might have split her lip. She didn’t want to do anything that might bring Travis back to himself, to make him remember that he did not want to be kissing her.
The need for air outweighed all and eventually he pulled back, but not away.
To Scarlett’s surprise, he kissed her again, and then again, softer and softer, and rested his forehead on hers, breathing, waiting.
They both just breathed and it was entirely up to Scarlett. If she waited long enough, he would roll off her, maybe apologising, but probably not acknowledging the emotional assault, then or ever. If she kept him there, there was a good chance he wouldn’t even look at her in the morning.
But if it didn’t happen now, there was every chance that it never would.
Scarlett li
cked her lips and whispered, “I hear you.”
His eyes snapped open and they were darker than she’d ever seen them.
Before Travis could object, Scarlett kissed him, her mouth demanding, her tongue tasting his lips, until he opened his mouth to her, everything burning. Her shoulders ached as he finally moved his hands, releasing her so he could get closer, lowering himself onto her, and letting her feel him against her bare legs.
Helpless, she moaned and the sound made Travis suck in his breath.
“Fuck,” he breathed, abandoning her mouth to kiss way down her neck.
He showed remarkable restraint by not tearing her shirt from her body. Quickly, but efficiently, he unfastened the buttons, ignoring the lower ones once her breasts were exposed to his mouth. Even Travis’ patience had its limits.
It was easy to surrender herself to him, clutching his hair while he tormented her, making up for what he seemed to lack in skill and tenderness, with hunger and the warmth of his mouth. But when he slid a hand up her thigh, slipping his fingers under the bands of her shorts and underwear, Scarlett wanted more. She wanted him to feel her the way she was feeling him at that moment. Placing her hands on his cheeks and drawing his mouth back up to hers, she then set her fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt.
She should have pushed him away instead of pulling him closer if she wanted to get his clothes off, she realised. The feel of his mouth cost her all of her dexterity. It was difficult to focus on the tiny fucking buttons when all she wanted to do was melt into him.
Travis noticed.
“Fuck sakes,” he said, sitting up and pulling the shirt over his head.
He had a deep tan on his arms and the swathe of his chest where he usually kept the top button open, while the rest of him was so white he almost glowed. Scarlett smiled and skimmed her hands over his torso and his muscles flexed involuntarily under her fingertips.
She wanted to trace the path with her hands, taste him and make him groan, but suddenly there seemed to be not enough time.
Now.
Now, now, now!
While Travis tried to find her mouth again, Scarlett grabbed at his jeans. This time the button gave way easily and she tore them open. He started to say something, but the words dissolved into a guttural groan as she slid her hands into his underwear and took hold of him.
The sensation and his response to it thrilled her; she stroked the length of him and used her other hand to try and pull his jeans down for better access.
Capturing both her hands, Travis forced her backwards. He held her hands above her head and stared at her, eyes dark and… and what?
Through the haze of her desire, Scarlett suddenly realised the intimacy of that moment. She didn’t know if Travis was afraid of hurting her, or of them wanting each other like this. She didn’t care. They couldn’t stop. Not now.
“Please,” she breathed, lifting her hips, pressing against him, “Travis, please,” she begged.
“Fuck,” he responded.
Slipping a hand under the small of her back, he lifted her, just far enough that he could reach her shorts and underwear with the other hand. He yanked at them, cursing as they twisted and tangled. Scarlett lifted her backside from the ground so he could get them off more easily. When he’d managed it, flinging the fabric against the tent wall, Travis didn’t look back at her. He pushed his own jeans and underwear down to his knees and regained his tight grip on Scarlett’s wrists with one hand. It hurt.
Neither looking at her face nor releasing her, Travis lowered her back down to the floor and followed. Scarlett started to squirm. She wanted her arms. She wanted to kiss his chest and guide him into her, but he denied her.
Roughly grabbing the back of her right leg below the knee with his spare hand, he forced it toward her chest and thrust completely into her.
Scarlett’s body arched. She wasn’t as ready as she had thought, but even the pain amplified the pleasure of finally having him inside her.
Travis groaned in her ear, and when he pulled nearly all the way out before plunging back into her, Scarlett cried out loud.
“Shit, someone’s gonna hear,” he said breathily.
“Oh, Travis. Travis, please.”
She thrashed under him, trying to push him deeper and trying to pull her arms free.
“Please, Travis,”
Make me. Let me.
At last he moved her arms. He didn’t let her go, but this time she was pinned with her arms bent and her hands level with her shoulders. This time, he laced his fingers with hers.
That simple gesture and a few more hard thrusts at their new angle sent Scarlett over the edge, and the moan that escaped her lips was practically a cry. Pleasure so sweet that it was almost painful tingled through her as she convulsed beneath him. But it went away all too soon.
Scarlett whimpered as she chased it, wrapping her legs around Travis, begging him, pleading with him to help her back there.
There was no going back. Desperate as Scarlett was for the slow, burning ache to rebuild within her, Travis no longer had the presence of mind to wait for her.
He quickened the pace and his breathing became erratic. Scarlett matched him.
As much as she wanted her own satisfaction, she wanted his; with her; inside her; from her, more.
He kissed her neck, surprising her; the gentleness of his lips on her pulse was a sweetness she hadn’t dared to hope for.
His groan as he came. The weight of him against her chest as he sagged on top of her. The smell of the two of them. The tingle between her thighs. The warmth of him inside her.
Scarlett savoured each sensation. She tried to memorise them for the weeks ahead when they would pretend this hadn’t happened. Because there was no place for it in the new world.
Mostly she treasured the feel of his hands in hers. The callous of his palms and the roughness of his fingers. He didn’t let go. As he rested on top of her and they both caught their breath, Travis kept his hands locked with hers.
His head was on her breast; his hair tickled her skin. Not thinking, or rather, thinking that it was her only chance, Scarlett pressed her lips to his temple.
Travis looked up at her. Sex had stripped him of his intensity. He couldn’t be angry or hard in that moment and his gaze was even softer than when Scarlett had woken from her dream.
There was timidity there in the blue of his eyes; shyness; uncertainty which tempered the pleasure and satisfaction.
Scarlett saw the boy who yearned for so much and who thought he deserved so little and it broke her.
She lifted her head, kissed his cheek, the corners of his mouth, his lips. She wanted to comfort him and meld them together.
When she pulled away, Scarlett held his gaze and tried to convey as much as she could with a look.
“You hear me?”
Travis looked away, swallowed and considered as Scarlett held her breath. When he looked back, he squeezed her hands and nodded once, quickly.
“I hear you.”
Chapter Eleven:
As the sun rose, casting warm light through the screen of Scarlett and Travis’ tent, Scarlett awoke to find that she was wrapped tightly in Travis’ arm, her head resting on his chest. It took a moment for her to realise that his other hand was interlocked with one of hers, just as it had been the night before. She lay there, enjoying the moment, smiling to herself as Travis gently snored.
Scarlett could hear movement outside and she could smell breakfast cooking on the campfire. Her mouth began to water, making her realise how hungry she was and, along with the overwhelming urge to pee, she eased herself out of Travis’ grip, not wanting to wake him.
She watched him as she dressed, wondering if he would even mention what had happened only a few hours earlier.
River was cooking and gave Scarlett a sad smile as she made her way over to the fire. She sat herself next to River; pondering whether she was over the shock of thinking Riley was dead.
River looked at her
and tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. Scarlett instinctively put her arm around her friend and drew her close.
“Sorry, Scarlett,” River sobbed, “You’d think that I’d have got this out of my system yesterday, huh?”
“Hey, it’s okay. You need to cry, then you go ahead and do it.”
“Did Travis tell you what happened?” she asked, composing herself. “Riley wouldn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, he did,” Scarlett started, “But I don’t think it would help you to know. The point is, they’re both okay.”
“Are you alright?”
Scarlett looked at River and took her hand.
“I’m always alright,” she responded, “Riley’s like a brother to me. I didn’t really know what to think. Then when Travis unzipped the tent… I couldn’t believe it.”
Scarlett took a deep breath to stop herself from crying as River squeezed her hand.
“I know how much you care about Riley… but, come on, you don’t need to hide stuff from me,” River said with a smirk, wiping away the moisture from her cheeks.
Scarlett pulled away a little and glanced behind her, checking that no one was in ear shot.
“Travis and I are close, yeah. We share a tent, do all our hunts together, we’ve been scouting for a new place to stay since we lost Bluehaven. We spend a lot of time together…” she trailed off, unable to say anymore without the truth spilling out.
River raised her eyebrows and made Scarlett look at her.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, even after they got back. Riley fell asleep and I was left awake, listening to the silence… then I heard you.” Scarlett looked away from her friend, ashamed, “Sounded like a pretty horrific dream. Good thing Travis was there to take your mind off it, right?”
“What exactly did you hear?” Scarlett asked, not really wanting an honest answer.
“Everything,” River smiled, “I heard you crying in your sleep, lashing around in your sheets, heard you getting a good telling off from Travis, and… well, we both know what happened next. Shit, Scarlett, it was so quiet last night, I could pretty much hear you breathing.” Scarlett hung her head, only for River to lift it up again, “You know that what happened won’t go any further,” she reassured her, “I won’t tell a soul. You need to do what’s right for you. I love you, Scarlett. You deserve a little happiness after... everything.”
Roamers (Book 1) Page 14