“No. Shoot me if it means that much to you,” he said. The man pulled out her sandwich and took it. Looking at her, he calmly took a big bite. Then another. Then, to her surprise, he put the sandwich back in her bag and handed it back to her. “Go on now,” he said. “And watch out, because there’s a mean-looking dude camped a couple miles up the road.”
Mean-looking dude?
“Was he wearing cargo pants and a rifle slung over his shoulder?” she asked.
“Yup. That’s the one.”
Grand Central Terminal
JENNA
Jenna watched in horror as the soldiers dragged Taryn in front of Colonel Lanche. The soldiers had kept Taryn locked up somewhere at Grand Central, awaiting sentencing.
Colonel Lanche apparently didn’t like to execute people on Sundays.
“So you’re the girl who killed my soldier,” he spat, glowering at Taryn.
Taryn glared back, staring defiantly. She’d had two long nights of waiting. Jenna imagined it would have been kinder of the army to kill her straight off and get it over with. She choked back a sob.
Lanche turned to the man holding Taryn. “Tell us what happened.”
“We heard a shot, and came into a subway car to see Private Eric Andrews shot to death on top of a whore.” The soldier found Jenna in the crowd and pointed to her. “That whore. And this whore here,” he said, pushing Taryn forward, “held the smoking gun.”
Lanche shook his head. He looked into the crowd that had gathered. “This is my camp,” he screamed. “Do you really think you can get away with murder?” A vein bulged in his forehead.
The man was losing it, Jenna realized. Losing his hold on the citizens of the FEMA camp and losing the respect of the people who had once deemed him a savior.
“Were there any witnesses?” he asked.
The soldier gestured to Jenna. “She saw her friend shoot him.”
Jenna shook her head, unable to speak. She wouldn’t incriminate Taryn, not if she could help it.
Taryn looked at Jenna, her red-rimmed eyes calm. She seemed serene now, like she’d made peace with what had happened. “Tell them, Jenna. Tell them what Emily said about the radio.”
She heard Lanche make a strangled noise in the back of his throat.
Jenna looked at her friend and nodded, perspiration beading on her upper lip. She had to speak quickly before she was shut up—permanently. But as Jenna opened her mouth to spread the truth, Colonel Lanche lifted his rifle and pointed it at her.
“Go, Jenna, go!” Taryn cried. “Get out of here—don’t let them catch you too.”
Jenna didn’t even think; she turned and ran, zigzagging through the crowd. She heard Taryn screaming at the top of her lungs, “There’s a better life! There’s a radio, and America is rebuilding.”
The crowd murmured loudly amongst themselves, repeating what she said. Jenna could hear the wonderment in their voices, echoing behind her as she ran, ran through them all. “Get out of Grand Central,” Taryn cried, “and find a better life.”
A shot rang out, deafening in Jenna’s ears.
Jenna stopped in her tracks, the front exit from Grand Central just steps away in front of her, a ragged cry torn from her throat. Taryn’s tirade had been silenced. No more screams. Oh God, Jenna thought. No no no, it couldn’t . . . But she knew it had. Lanche had executed Taryn, right then and there in Grand Central Terminal, under the clock by the information booth where so many other public hearings were done.
Jenna wanted to turn back—wanted to run back up to Lanche, to shoot him with his own gun. Wanted to see Taryn’s body one last time before it went into a mass grave, an unfitting burial for such a beautiful young woman. A woman who tried, in her final moments, to save everyone at the Grand Central military camp. To free them from the tyranny they had been living under for the past year, living like animals. To free the women who prostituted themselves on the Tracks for a meal.
“Oh Taryn,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
EMILY
Emily kept her eyes peeled for smoke rising in the trees as she walked up 87, now two miles past the toll. It seemed to take forever, and the sun was setting dangerously fast. If she was wrong and she wasn’t tracking Mason, but another man, she’d have a serious problem when she walked in on his camp.
Hell, she’d have a serious problem even if it was Mason, considering he’d tried to ditch her.
But she needed to talk to him first.
She saw the light from the fire not far off the side of the road. Walking slowly, she drew near, close enough to feel the heat from the flames. Mason was nowhere in sight.
A voice came from behind a tree. “Stay back,” he said.
She froze, putting her hands in the air. “Mason?” she called. “It’s me. Emily.”
Mason stepped out from behind the tree, lowering his rifle. “Jesus, Emily, I nearly shot you.”
She lowered her arms. He looked angry.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Wait a minute. No she wasn’t—she was angry. And it was time to let him know that. “Mason, what you did wasn’t right.”
He looked flabbergasted. “What? Leaving you behind? It was the only right thing I’ve ever done. I can’t promise you security, not like what you had in the town.” He stepped toward her, staring down into her eyes with his deep blue ones.
“I don’t care,” she said. “You can’t make a decision like that for me.”
He sighed. “I see what this is about.”
Did he? Could he tell she’d fallen in love with him? Something told her he’d be scared off even further if she admitted the truth to him.
He looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “You’re proving a point. I get that. But you didn’t have to endanger your life to show me that you’re an independent woman.”
“Maybe I wanted to,” she said, sitting down by the fire. “And that’s my prerogative.”
“Well, you screwed up,” he said hotly. “Because now I have to take you back to town.”
Emily jumped up again. “Mason, no!” She touched his jawline, the stubble growing thick and coarse. “I want to stay with you. Please, please let me stay with you. I won’t slow you down, I swear.”
Mason laughed quietly. “Yes, you will. But I don’t care about that anymore. I want your company—God knows I do—but you made me promise to protect you. At this point, the best protection I can give you is not with me. It’s back in the town, with Brad.”
She scowled. “That’s another thing, you jerk,” she said. “How could you give me to another man? I’m not yours to give away!”
He winced at her words. “That wasn’t my intention, not at all.”
“So you were just content to see me be with another guy? That didn’t bother you?” She shook her head, all the anger draining out of her. Sadness filled its place. He really didn’t care about her, not past the promise he had made her after she had saved his life.
His feelings on the subject, she realized, were painfully clear.
“I’m sorry I came back when you don’t want me here,” she whispered.
Suddenly Mason’s mouth was on hers with a ferocity that left her breathless. “Does this feel like I don’t want you here?” he asked, kissing her again.
She couldn’t answer, not when she knew the truth. He had left her, and his actions spoke louder than his words ever could. But she loved him—and she’d take whatever he had to offer her, even if he couldn’t return her feelings. His mouth was hot against hers, his tongue deep in her mouth, tasting her, and she let herself forget everything except for the kiss.
He kissed down her neck, pulling her into his muscular arms, enfolding her against his chest. She couldn’t imagine being with any other man. She only wanted Mason, even if that meant she had to live on the streets and starve.
But would he understand that? Even if he did, his chivalry wouldn’t let him allow her to do that. But she wasn’t going to let him decide her future.
Emily dropped to her knees before him, tugging his pants down, freeing his hard cock. He inhaled sharply as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, sucking it into her mouth. She had to show him how much she wanted to be with him, so he could understand.
Swallowing around his length, she took more of him in, loving the power it gave her to control his sensations. His hands tangled in her hair and drew her in even closer.
“Emily,” he breathed, and she licked the underside of his shaft, tasting his musky, salty taste. “You can stay,” he said. “Stay with me.”
He came then, exploding into her mouth. She swallowed hard, sucking him, licking the little slit at the tip to make sure she got every last pearly drop.
She looked up at him, smiling. He looked down at her, and at the same time they each said to the other, “Thank you.”
She giggled, standing up. “So I can stay? Really?”
He nodded, hugging her close. “Yes. I shouldn’t be so selfish, but I want you here with me. God forgive me.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered. “I want to be here with you too. I don’t care about the security the town gave. I’m happier here… with you.”
“I haven’t got any food for dinner,” he said softly.
Emily smiled and pulled her sandwich out of her pack, two large bites missing from the guy who took the toll. “We can split this,” she said.
Sitting by the fire, slowly chewing the half of the sandwich, Mason looked at her. He was so handsome, even covered in stubble and dirt. “My goal is to find someplace in the woods with lots of hunting and wood for fire, and make a permanent shelter. Someplace where we can plant and grow food. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” He asked casually, but Emily could tell her answer was important to him.
“Absolutely,” she said, no hesitation in her voice. “If we could find a pond or little lake too, that would be good. We’ll need water.”
Mason’s eyes lit up. “Good point. There’re tons of lakes in upstate New York. I’m sure we can find something.”
She nodded.
“But Emily,” he said, his eyes solemn, “if I can’t take care of you properly then I—”
“Don’t even say it,” she interrupted him. “You don’t have my permission to make decisions on my behalf. We’ll take care of each other, as equals. I need to know we’re in this together.” She said the last part quietly, but Mason still heard her, she could see.
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Unless,” she said, looking up uncomfortably, “you change your mind and don’t want me around. If you don’t want me to stay with you then I can’t force you to. But you have to be honest with me—don’t just keep saying it’s for my own good, because I’m not buying that.”
Mason laughed, a deep belly laugh, and tackled her to the grassy forest floor. “Got it.”
She stripped her shirt off, desperate to feel his skin against hers. He pulled his T-shirt off over his head, throwing it to the side, pulling his pants down again, setting his pistol next to them. Emily set her gun to the side as well so she could unzip her jeans, tugging them down.
He thrust his cock inside her so quickly she gasped.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Did I hurt you?”
She grabbed his ass, holding him in place deep within her, bucking her hips up to meet his thrusts. “Keep going,” she said. “Fuck me hard.”
He pounded into her as she held on tightly, her fingernails digging into the muscles on his back, needing more of him, needing all of him.
Every muscle in her body tensed and spasmed as the orgasm overtook her senses, making her body writhe beneath his. He continued stroking deep inside her, drawing her climax out, lengthening it, pulling aftershocks from her quivering body as she cried out for more.
Mason pumped one last time, hard, spilling his seed deep within her, her pussy clamping down on his cock. He grunted and fell on top of her, breathing hard into her disheveled hair.
“Don’t leave me again,” she whispered. But she knew he wasn’t making any promises this time.
* * *
The following morning, Mason and Emily walked, together, up the highway. Mason knew he should be upset with Emily for leaving the safety of the town, but damn it was good to have her with him again.
He’d always been a loner, but she’d changed him. Permanently. Now he needed to create a life for them where he wouldn’t be worried she’d be better off with anyone else.
Then he saw the mailbox.
A small wooden mailbox, shaped like a whimsical bear with a red flag on its hat, was on the side of the road. Turning to the mailbox, he cut across the empty highway, drawn to it by its very out-of-place-ness.
Emily followed him. “What’s that?” she asked, sounding as curious as he felt.
“A mailbox,” he said. “Which means there must be—”
“A house,” she finished. She looked at him and he could tell they were on the same page.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. It seemed so tiny in his, but it felt so right. He had been crazy to think he could leave her behind.
There was a gravel driveway, at one point, anyway, underneath the grass and leaves and dirt. Now, after more than a year of neglect, the driveway was practically hidden from sight. Mason could still feel the gravel through the worn soles of his shoes and followed the long, winding path.
Emily was able to keep up easily, since he had learned to slow his strides for her sake. It was more fun to walk next to her than in front of her anyway.
The path continued over a mile deep into the woods.
“Mason.” She tugged at his arm, and he looked over at where she stopped and stared. The sun glinted off of the rippling waters of… a lake.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “A lake.”
She grinned. “Woods. A lake.” They heard a small scuffle in a tree overhead. “That’s gotta be a squirrel, or a chipmunk, right?” she asked, smiling up into the tree.
“That’s gonna be dinner,” he said, peering through the optic sight on his rifle into the top of the tree. The squirrel was nowhere to be seen, maybe because the prospect of food suddenly paled in comparison to what he could see through the sight of his rifle.
He lowered his aim, using the sight like a telescope, and looked through the clearing in the woods behind the lake.
“Emily,” he whispered.
She stiffened beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he laughed. He dropped his gun and picked her up, swirling her around in excitement. “And everything’s right.”
“What are you talking about?”
A cabin. A small hunting cabin on the lake.
“Come on,” he said, and they trekked around the lake. It was a small lake, maybe a mile around, more of a large pond, but there were geese on the water. The thought of eating goose made his mouth water. Maybe he could breed geese…
They approached the cabin cautiously even though it looked abandoned. An overgrown, weed-filled vegetable garden crept around from the back of the structure, as if the plants, left to their own devices for so long, had taken over.
“Hello?” Mason called, hoping upon hope no one would answer back.
No one did.
“Tomatoes,” Emily whispered reverently at the sight. “Seeds, Mason.”
“I know.” He held his breath, wondering for a moment if he was imagining things. She grinned at him and he knew. It’s for real. This is our home now.
The front door lay open, and the inside was trashed, by black bears or maybe raccoons. Emily’s eyes brightened at the sight. “We can clean this place up,” she said. “Look, there’s a wood-burning stove for heat!”
He grinned at her. There was even an axe, rusted and dull no doubt, in the corner on the floor. “Yes we can,” he said.
“It’s perfect,” she replied, looking around. “It’s everything we wanted.”
“I never thought this would actually happen,
” he admitted. “I didn’t know if we’d ever find this.”
“You can’t get rid of me now, you know,” she said, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to reach his lips.
He kissed her, claiming her as his own.“I don’t want to get rid of you. Ever.”
Emily smiled and looked around the little cabin. She picked up some trash off the floor. “Good. Let’s get to work.”
“I’ll go catch us dinner,” he said. “How does goose sound?”
Emily licked her lips in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He stepped out the front door, then turned back around, looking back into the open doorway at Emily, her brown hair falling into her eyes as she leaned over, getting started on cleaning their new home. “I love you, you know,” he said.
He inhaled sharply. Did he say that out loud?
Emily lifted her head, looking up at him in surprise. “Did you just say you loved me?” she asked quietly.
Oh hell. “Yes. I did. I mean, I do.”
She dropped the trash back on the floor and ran up to him, tackling him, throwing her arms around him. “I love you, Mason.”
He’d never heard anything more wonderful in his life.
Kissing her deeply, he dropped her to the ground, determined to show her just how much he loved her before he found something to kill for their dinner.
* * *
He loves me, he loves me!
Emily grinned up at Mason, almost unable to believe it. Everything she hoped for, dreamed of, wrapped itself around and hinged on that one fact. Mason loved her, and she loved him. The entire world could fall apart around them, and she wouldn’t care. Wouldn’t even notice.
He stripped his shirt off, tossing it amongst the leaves strewn across the forest floor. She pressed her palm against the thick wall of heated muscles of his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath her fingers.
His mouth claimed hers, bruising her lips with his ferocity and passion.
“I need you, now,” he whispered, his voice hot in her ear.
“And I need you forever,” she whispered back, smiling up at him. His bright blue eyes held depths of emotion in them. She could get lost in those eyes, and yet she knew she had been found. She’d never be lost again.
The Pulse: Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy Page 23