"Finn and Cat, too," I say, and he just shrugs.
"Take whoever you want. Well, maybe not the jackass that hit me. Him I can do without. But I truly want to put as much distance between us and this side of the mountains as we can get. Promise me?"
I'm a little taken aback at his urgency and his aversion to Jax, but I nod in agreement anyways, and the worry on his face turns to relief. In a typical Ben move, he pulls me into a bear hug at my wordless agreement and rests his chin on the top of my head, holding me tight to his chest.
"I'm so thankful you're alive, Tar-Tar, and that you found me. Now, we just have to find Jane and Thomas, and everything will be okay."
It feels normal to be in his arms. Like somehow I’m back home, where I belong. But I cain't help this nagging feeling that something just ain't right. Even though Ben has only expressed what I myself have been wanting for so long—to find my kin and escape back to the sand lands—it feels like I have just promised him something that I’m not going to be able to fulfill. Like my part here on this side of the mountains is far from over. My guilt makes my response intensify, so I hug him back a lot tighter than I would normally have done, hoping he don't notice my unease.
The hackles on my neck rise, and I glance over Ben's shoulder to meet a pair of icy blue eyes. Jax is leaning against the far wall and watching us intently. How long has he been watching us? And did he hear me make my promise to Ben?
He catches my eyes and sneers at me before stomping off to the door-less exit on the other side of the room and disappears from view. Yep, he’d definitively heard everything. Gods, that man is getting pricklier by the hour.
I pull away from Ben and whisper at him, "We can talk more later. You should rest."
"Aye, I'm pretty beat. And this mattress feels mighty comfy. Cain't believe you even got a mattress. Think I'll just lay down here if you don't mind. You can have my blankets on the floor over there." He motions with his chin to the other side of the now snoring Finn, and I laugh at his nerve.
"Mule turd," I mutter to his back as he flips over to snuggle down into my bed. All I get in return is a middle finger salute. Just like old times.
I head for the blankets piled on the other side of Finn, tripping over Cat, who gives me an irritated growl. But Jax's odd behavior keeps gnawing at me, and I have the urge to follow him to find out why he reacted so strongly to what he’d overheard. None of it should surprise him any. I just don't get it. And the flesh wound he’d suffered in our escape really did need to be looked after, and I know he ain't done nuthin' about it. I guess it’s up to me. Tracking down Tater and Duchess, I get from them the few things I need before heading off to find Jax.
The exit he’d gone out of leads to a set of 'crete steps that look like they've seen better days, but they’re still passable. They only lead up, so I guess I know which way he went. A couple of narrow, broken windows sit higher up on the walls, allowing some moonlight to filter through, so at least I'm not stumbling about in complete darkness. The stairs lead to another floor and then end abruptly. Cain't climb any higher, so he has to be in there somewhere.
This floor is a bit trickier to navigate than the one below. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed in over time, and metal beams and rods poke outta slabs of 'crete, creating a dangerous obstacle course. I can see why the group has decided to keep their living quarters confined to the couple of floors below us. One side of the building even has a whole piece of wall that is crumbled away so as you can look out over the ruined city below us. This is where I find Jax. He sits on the partial wall in a patch of moonlight, hunched over, and his hands hanging loosely between his legs like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I observe him in silence for a bit, but then he speaks, startling me with his awareness.
"For someone who’s supposed to have 'special abilities,' you have the stealth of an elephant. I could hear you coming from leagues away."
"Well, it ain't like I'm tryin' to sneak up on you," I say to his back.
"Then why you just standing there?" he says, and I huff at him in annoyance as I join him and hop nimbly up onto the wall.
"Why you up here?" I say. No beating around the bush.
He turns his head to look at me in the moonlight.
"Just needed to clear my head. Question is, why are you? The last I saw of you, you were pretty entwined in golden boy's arms. I'm surprised you were able to tear yourself away."
"He has a name," I snap, his words irritating me something fierce. "Stop callin' him golden boy."
He gives me a slight nod. "Noted." He turns away again. "So why you following me?"
"Well, for one thing, I'm worried 'bout your arm. You really need it cleaned and some fresh bandages on it." I hold up Tater's tin flask and the piece of material from Duchess' tattered dress in fronta me like a peace offering.
He stares back stubbornly at first, like he ain't gonna let me do it. I sigh at him in irritation.
"Listen, I know bein' a bullheaded jackass is just your nature, but don't be a fool, Jax. You cain't afford to let it get infected."
Without a word, he hops offa the wall and yanks the tunic over his head, bearing his chest and wounded arm to me. I feel a jolt deep down in my gut. The sight of the smooth skin of his chest and stomach stretched taut over the bulky muscles underneath makes my heart quicken and my mouth go dry. There is a long, pink scar running horizontally just below his left shoulder, and I have to stop myself from reaching out and running my fingers over the puckered skin. What had caused it, I wonder. Does it hurt? I ain't even aware I'm staring like a fool 'til he says dryly, "So you gonna change the bandage any time soon before I freeze to death? It ain't exactly what you would call a balmy night."
A hot flush rushes into my cheeks, and I tear my eyes away from his bare body, focusing on the blood-soaked bandage instead. What the hell is wrong with me? Ain't like I never seen a man without his shirt before. I busy myself with untying the bandage I’d placed there earlier to hide my confusion. Dried blood has the cloth sticking to the wound.
"This is gonna hurt," I say just as I yank the bandage off, not giving him time to brace himself.
"Shizen," he hisses, telling me I ain't wrong.
Right away I feel bad for my rough treatment, so I warn him before I attempt the next step. "This is gonna hurt even worse."
I unscrew the cap from Tater's whiskey. I wait for his nod of consent before I pour the alcohol over the gash on his arm. His sharp intake of breath is his only reaction. Satisfied I had doused it enough, I start wrapping the wound again with the clean cloth. He watches me silently with hooded eyes as I secure the knot.
"Is it too tight?" I ask, but he shakes his head no as he shrugs back into his tunic.
We’re quiet for a bit, both of us staring off at the full moon before I finally say, "You're welcome by the way."
His profile in the moonlight looks like it coulda been chiseled outta stone.
"I didn't ask for your help," his words are cold, and I swear my mouth falls open in disbelief.
It pisses me off something fierce.
"Well, forgive me for caring if you lost your damn arm to infection," I say as I start snatching up the discarded bandages and Tater's tin. "I don't even know why I bothered really since earlier you looked like you were gonna knife me in the back. I should have just let your damned arm rot off."
He don't say nuthin'; he just continues to stare ahead. I slam the tin down on the half wall in frustration.
"Honestly, I don't know what I do to you at times to make you so angry. Why are you always so angry at me?"
"Angry?" he finally responds as he turns to stare at me. "I'm not angry. What makes you think I'm angry? Nope, no anger here," he says.
"Really?" I say in total confusion. "'Cause you coulda fooled me by—"
"Yeah, I'm angry! Actually, I'm way past angry. I overheard your conversation with golden boy down there. But you probably didn't realize anyone could overhear since the two of you were so wra
pped up in each other the damned building could have fallen down around your ears, and you wouldn't have noticed. Seriously? After all we’ve gone through, all we’ve seen. All your training. Lily and all the other deaths, all in vain. You’re just going to give up and run off with Ben," he spits out the name, "like none of that ever happened? Like none of it means anything?"
I ain't prepared for the vicious attack, but it don't take long for my own ire to rise to the occasion.
"How dare you say Lily's death don't mean anything to me? How dare you." I step closer to him, pointing my finger in his face. "Feels like there's a hole torn in my heart, and I'm slowly bleedin' to death! Feels like I'm bein' eaten from the inside out with guilt 'cause another person has died for me, and for what? I ain't asked for any of this. I cain't stop any of this. I told y'all that from the get go, yet y'all have put this faith in me that I don't deserve and sure as hell don't want. I’ve faced the devil himself up close, and guess what? He's a hundred times more powerful than I will ever be. So yeah, forgive me if I'm thinkin' about runnin' away from it all and escapin' certain death at the hands of that madman."
We’re pretty much nose to nose now, and my hands are gripped at my side in fists. I feel the need to lash out, to let out some of this growing fear that has been festering in my gut since my run-in with the Prezedant. Jax glares back, both of us breathing heavily with our anger.
Suddenly, his face softens, and he whispers, "Oh, hell," before his lips crush mine in a punishing kiss.
I try to step away from his onslaught, but I hit the wall, and I’m trapped as his hands slap against the 'crete on either side of me. His lips are fierce and hot, and one of his hands grasp the back of my neck now, tangling in my hair and preventing me from moving away.
A slight whimper escapes from the back of my throat, and as if he hears, the kiss softens and becomes more of a caress than an invasion. The hand that I had raised to slap him with instead clutches a handful of tunic and pulls him closer. What am I doing?
The kiss deepens as both his hands tangle in my hair now, almost as if he’s scared I will run. I ain't going nowhere. You need oxygen and strength to run, and I possess neither of those at this precise moment. My body has gone weak, and I feel faint from the lack of air, but still I draw him closer.
I take the opportunity to breathe as his lips finally leave mine and move slowly down my neck, gently nipping at the sensitive area and then fluttering along my jawline before capturing my mouth again. A delicious heat sweeps through me at his feathery touch, threatening to melt my innards. My legs turn to liquid, and I grab at him with both hands now to just try and keep myself upright. He leans into me at my response, nudging his knee between my thighs, and I delight in the heavy weight of his body pressed against mine, pinning me to the wall. I can feel his physical want and desire for me, and it fills me with an indescribable headiness. I ain't ever felt this way before. I want to surrender myself to him. To give him everything, body and soul, right here under this beautiful, moonlit sky.
"Sky!"
I ain't even aware I cry the name out loud 'til he stops, staring at me in complete shock. His lips linger for a brief moment on mine before he pulls away, and I actually whimper in protest. I cain't help myself. I can still feel my need of him strumming through my body.
"Jax?" I say through swollen lips as he steps back from me.
He takes a tortured gulp of air. He runs an agitated hand through his hair as he watches me, his eyes still glowing with want.
"Why you playin' this game with me?" I whisper, the shame of my wanton reaction to his kiss radiating waves of heat of a different kind over my body now.
"I'm-I'm sorry, Tara," he stammers. "I'm not playing any game, I swear. There's nothing I want more at this moment than to be with you but—"
"But you have a betrothed," I finish for him bitterly, thanking the gods in my head that at least one of us had the sense to pull away before we’d done something we would both probably regret.
"She doesn't deserve this from me," he says. "I'm sorry; I had no right to do that."
There is regret in his tone, and I wonder for whom it is meant. Regret for kissing me or regret for what he was about to do to Sky? Doesn't matter. I don't want to know. What I’d felt for him just moments before quickly dissolves and turns into humiliation and anger. I cain't believe I’d responded to him in that way. And he had shut me down. Again. What the hell is wrong with me?
I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm.
"Tara, wait—"
I shake his hand off like his touch is burning me and snarl at him over my shoulder, "I am only gonna say this once. You ever touch me like that again, and I will slice your bits off and serve 'em to Cat for supper. Understood?"
"Understood," he says, his voice miserable.
I walk away, my back rigid against his stare. I get it, I do. We had wronged Sky, and he’s right. She didn't deserve that. So why do I feel like the one with the betrayed, broken heart right now?
13
The Fugitives
The next couple of days pass in a haze. Jax is as good as his word; he don't lay a finger on me. Hell, he don't come anywhere near me. I catch his gaze on me every so often across the room, but I don't make eye contact. Even just looking at him reminds me of the shame and humiliation I felt at my response to his kiss. But worse than that, it brings back the memory of my intense need for him, the want to feel his lips on mine again. It leaves me frustrated and confused.
Zoe and her crew finally come through the tunnel on the second day, and I'm glad for their appearance since it gives me something to focus on. They bring us the news we were expecting. The Prezedant has realized Mack is a traitor to his cause and that his supposed niece is the New Blood he seeks. It don't surprise me none, but it does scare me. Before I was a nobody to the Prezedant, an unknown, faceless New Blood. Now he’s seen my face and knows my name. It don't sit well.
Zoe was also right about the outer tunnel: it’s our only way in and out of the city. It was shut down to any travel other than Army business. The Prezedant ain't taking any chance of us escaping. She said he was going over Royal Island with a fine-toothed comb. Sooner or later, though, he’s gonna realize we ain't there, and then a sweep of the outer city is gonna begin. We had best be outside that wall before that happens. Although as much as we are wracking our brains, nobody has come up with a way for us to do that yet. Oh, there has been a few ideas tossed around like bribing our way out. But Mack ain't got enough coin, and there are too many guards. We could fight our way out, but we don't have near enough manpower or weapons. Sneaking our way out at night is a possibility, but again, it would mean overtaking at least twenty-five guards and quietly enough so we don't rouse the others. And there’s the matter of getting the gate open. We could blow the wall like Zoe had done at the Prezedant's estate, but where would we get enough explosives for that? It ain't something we can easily come across. Busher keeps insisting if only he could contact his people, then they would have the means to blow the wall and get us out. After him repeating that for bout the tenth time, Mack finally snaps at him, "Contact them with what? Smoke signals? Nobody is allowed in or out of the city."
Mack ain't the only one being testy though. We’re all a little worn out and irritated with each other from being cooped up, I reckon. My only real time outside of our decrepit safe house is a daily romp about the ruins with Finn and Cat, but we can only go at select times of the day. And we cain't go far for fear of encountering the soldiers ferrying the various shifts of workers on their way to or back from the manufacturing area of the city. So instead, Finn and I have been spending most of our time with Ben on the ruined third floor, filling him in on our past few months and our search for him through the mountains. He listens, astounded, but he takes it all in and believes every word. He still refuses to share his horror of the past few months, and sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking, I see the terror and shadows still etched on his face. I guess we all have our demon
s that still haunt us.
Being cooped up though, it ain't going well. If I have to answer one more question from Finn about how we’re getting outta the city, or what do I think is gonna happen to us all, or even why the stars sit in the sky at night the way they do, I’m gonna rip my hair out. I understand he's only asking all this shite 'cause he's scared. I know that. But it don't give me any more patience on the matter. So it's with great relief when I’m asked by Mack to go on a supply run. With so many extra mouths to feed now, Kell's group's food supply is running mighty low. I’m more than happy to agree. Any excuse to get away from this place for a bit and occupy my mind with something other than my own fears. But then I find out who I’m going with.
"Why does Jax have to go? Why not Ben or Busher, hell, even Duchess. You. Anybody but him," I growl at Mack.
He don't question my anger, but he eyes me strangely with that one beady eye of his. I feel myself reddening under his questioning gaze.
"Do I really have to spell it out for you, Tara? Ben is still far too weak in case you do run into trouble. Duchess and Coral, too, for that matter. Tater is too noticeable for his small stature, Busher too noticeable for his larger one, and I am too well-known in the city. Zoe and her men are already out trying to discover a way to get us out of here. Beanie and Talbert, well, even if they weren't marked, I would still be afraid to send them off with coin. It would probably be spent in an alehouse or brothel other than on supplies. That leaves you and Jax. You two are the least suspect as strange as that may be. Can I make it any clearer? Or perhaps you would prefer tiny Finn to go with you?"
"Fine," I mutter, knowing he’s right about everything. But knowing he is right and saying it out loud are two different things. Jax can go, but I ain't happy with it.
With Kell as our guide to the black market, we head out. Kell keeps up a constant chatter, which is fine by me. It breaks what otherwise woulda been a very awkward silence between the two of us. Between the old man's chatter and having to watch our step so as not to fall in the craters or holes hidden in the piles of debris that litter the old roads, the first leg of our journey passes well enough. It's only when we reach the more populated outer city do we have to travel in a tighter group so as not to be separated. No one pays us much attention though. After our travels through the woods, the half-collapsed tunnel, and sleeping in our clothes on the safe house floor, we are just as unwashed as the rest of 'em filling up the streets. We fit in. Not at all like my first arrival in this city wearing my fancy cloak and being stared at with all those hate-filled eyes. Now, we look as beaten down as the rest of 'em here. Like we belong. No one pays us any mind.
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