by Christa Lynn
She closes her eyes, her long lashes touching her high cheeks. I see her fingers reaching for her glass, so I fill it quickly and watch her swallow the moonshine without even opening her eyes. I know she’s headed for somewhere in her mind, a place that will do her some good. I can tell she’s getting drunk and to a point where she doesn’t care anymore, which is good for the moment. She’ll open up and relax and I can get to know the real Jo.
“So, what is Jo short for? Joanna?”
He eyes open and she looks at me. “No, Josephine. I was named after my grandmother.
“It’s a beautiful name, classic.”
“I hate it.” She laughs. “That’s why I shortened it to Jo.”
“I see.” I choke back another shot, thinking this needs to be my last one as my head is swimming, but it’s just where I want it to be.
A warm glow appears outside, and I realize the sun is coming up. Jo and I have been up drinking all night, and it’s the best time I’ve had in years. I like this girl—I do. Probably more than I need to as I need to focus on the tasks at hand, and the fight that is coming. But even in times of despair, a little fun and escape is good.
Emma comes strolling into the kitchen, her blonde hair piled up on her head and bags under her eyes. “Morning, Emma,” I slur as I stand up but find that my legs no longer work, so I sit back down.
She stares at us and Jo looks up at her, her eyes unable to focus on either one of us.
“Are you guys drunk?” She smiles.
“Plowed,” I say as I watch Jo toss back another drink. Her eyes scan over Emma who’s wearing a long t-shirt and no pants, her tan legs exposed. Two beautiful women here, in my kitchen. They’re a breath of fresh air, and by the look on Emma’s face, she’s better than she was yesterday. She has good days and bad days, and hopefully with Jo here, they’ll be more good than bad. Jo will set a good example for Emma and hopefully Emma will follow in her footsteps.
Emma grabs the Mason jar and takes a long sip, choking back the strong alcohol before setting the jar down. She swallows and sits down next to Jo, smiling for the first time.
“Well, good morning,” Jo manages to speak, but her eyes are staring at Emma. Emma sits down, and we pass the jar around which is almost empty. I stand up, pushing my chair back as I do, and it falls backward against the wall. We laugh as I struggle to pick it up but lose my balance.
“Kane, you’re such a lush.” Emma laughs as she finishes the last of the moonshine. I manage to right myself and get to the cabinet and grab another jar full of alcohol, as well as some homemade crackers that Emma made the other day. We snack on the crackers and drink, talking and getting to know each other more. I watch Jo and Emma interact and Emma moves her chair closer to Jo. Without them realizing it, the sexual tension between those two is crackling. I can imagine that they still have needs, but neither want anything to do with a man after what they’ve been through. I suddenly wonder if this country will be full of lesbians once the war is over, all women hating all men.
I can’t let that happen, because without men and women together, whatever success we find will be gone soon with no children. But I watch their interactions and decide to stay out of it for now. They’re almost flirting with each other, and I’m not sure if it’s because they’re lonely or if it’s just the alcohol talking. Jo is drunk and Emma is just getting started, so I leave them be and just watch. Nature is calling so I head out back to check out the yard and take a piss. “I’ll be right back,” I say as the door slams behind me.
The air is cool and damp and all seems quiet. Abe comes out from the woods rubbing his eyes. “Where’s Jerk Off?” he asks, his pet name for Michael who has the day shift.
“Not sure, I’ve been in the kitchen.”
“Geez, man. Drink much?” Abe asks as I stumble over my words and a branch on the ground.
“Yeah, I guess. Been up all night.”
“I can see that, but you better sleep it off because you’re on guard tonight and I get to sleep.”
“I know, man. I’ll be sobered up before then.”
Michael steps out of the small shack to the left of the property where he sleeps, armed and ready. “Morning,” he says as he nods and trudges off to the woods, his AK over his shoulder and his blade strapped to his thigh. I nod back at him and head back in the house, Abe close behind.
But what we see when we walk into the door stops us in our tracks. Emma is sitting very close to Jo and they’re talking quietly, but close. Jo’s hand is on Emma’s thigh, but her eyes are glazed over from the alcohol. Abe and I watch intently, something obviously going on between them. But Abe sneezes and they look up and see us standing there.
“What are you two ladies talking about?” I ask as I stumble in the door.
“Just talking,” Emma says as she sits back and Jo removes her hand from Emma’s leg.
“Uh huh, don’t let us stop you.” Abe smirks as he sets his weapon down and grabs the jar of moonshine, turning it up and gulping half the jar.
“Easy, Abe,” I say as I take the jar from him.
“Hey, I’m off shift and you guys are plowed. I need to catch up,” he growls as he takes the jar back from me, tipping it up once again. Abe has had a secret thing for Emma, but he’s stayed away due to her insecurities. And she’s obviously more interested in Jo at the moment, so we nod at each other, allowing this to play out. Emma has never shown any interest in Abe, or any man for that matter. She thinks all men are like Vic, and I’ve yet to be able to prove otherwise. Abe can be a caveman at times, and I think that scares Emma. She had enough of the caveman back in Brampton. But I can’t blame him; years of jerking yourself off can get boring after a while, and neither of us have had a woman in longer than we can remember. They’re few and far between, and if we find one that’s not been in Brampton, then they’re usually a little promiscuous, which we never complained of. We’d meet, satisfy our own needs, and they’d be on their way. Douche moves, I know. But in this world, you take what you can get. There is no sense of family in the US now, it’s take and run.
The four of us sit around the table passing the jar around and I watch Abe watching Emma. Emma’s eyes cut down to her feet before she gets up and heads to the stove to fix breakfast. She grabs the eggs out of the refrigerator and cracks a few before turning on the stove. We have some electricity thanks to Michael who worked for the power company before the war started. We can’t get a lot of juice, so we reserve what we can get for appliances rather than lights. During the winter months we use the wood stove for heat, but we deal with the heat in the summer. I miss the days of air conditioning. It’s not until you lose it all that you realize what you had, and once we can get back the US, we can focus on moving back to where we were, but I will never take the simple things for granted again.
Emma and Jo have scrapped whatever it was they were talking about while Emma cooks. Jo has put her head down on the table and her eyes are closed. “Jo?” I ask, but she doesn’t budge. “She’s passed out cold,” I say as Abe moves beside her. “Easy, big guy, I got her,” I say as I stumble toward her and try and scoop her up in my arms.
“Yeah, Kane. Sure you do,” Abe says as he moves back. “I’ll just stay here and catch her when your drunk ass drops her.”
I’m not going to drop her, I tell myself as I cradle her limp body in my arms and go to put her into bed. I manage to get her upstairs, and as I get ready to lay her in bed, my legs give out and we both land on her bed in a bounce. She doesn’t wake up, so I shift her so her head is on the pillow and I crawl into bed beside her, my spinning head unable to go back to my own room. I pull the covers over us and fall asleep beside her, knowing she’s going to be pissed when she wakes up. I just need to snooze a little, and then I’ll be gone before she wakes up. At least, that’s the plan.
Jo
I stretch my legs and blink my eyes open at the sun shining in through the window. As I roll over, I realize I’m not alone in the bed. I jump back and focus, see
ing Kane sound asleep right next to me. “What the fuck?” I whisper as I look down and confirm my clothes are still on. “Thank God.”
I get out of bed and look out the window, vaguely seeing Dale out along the perimeter. The sun in the sky indicates it’s late afternoon. “Damn it,” I say as I sit down on the bed and pull my boots on my feet. “How did I manage to sleep all day, and how in the hell did Kane end up in my bed?” I say as I feel his hand wrap around my upper arm, a low groan escaping his lips. He pulls me back, and I jerk my arm out of his grasp as he turns and rolls over, mumbling something in his sleep. I stare at him, his full lips in a snarl and his eyelids jumping. He’s a gorgeous man, but also dangerous. But aren’t most men? I have to make sure I keep focused, but my pounding head won’t let me. I lie back down on the bed on my back and close my eyes again, willing the throbbing to stop.
Kane stirs again, and this time he rolls to face me, his arm draping across my stomach. I tense up, but realize he’s still sleeping and can’t hurt me in his dreams. At least, I hope not. I know I need to trust him; after all, he saved me from the streets and brought me here, I just hope he doesn’t have ulterior motives. The warmth from his body comforts me for some reason, and I relax a little and keep my eyes closed, hoping this headache will go away soon. But then I remember my dream and the reason I got up so early in the first place. Today is the day I go home. I peek out of my half-closed eyes at the window and see it won’t be long before the sun sets, so I need to get moving.
I softly move Kane’s arm from my stomach and sit back up, rubbing my temples. I tie my boots and stand up, stretching my arms up over my head. I pull my hair up and look around the room to make sure I have everything, but quickly realize I came here with nothing but an AK, a bloody knife, and the clothes I was wearing. I head down to grab some supplies and find a backpack to put them in, hoisting it onto my back as I walk to the front door. I quietly open it and step outside, the warm sun shining down. I walk down the front steps and hear a snap of a twig off to my right, and Dale quickly comes around the corner.
“Back door, sweets, we don’t use the front door.”
“Why not?” I ask, continuing down the stairs.
“Stop,” he cries out, but I keep going and walk through the leaves and underbrush toward the way we came in, but before I get far a louder snap echoes through the trees, and I hear Dale holler again. “Jo, stop!”
But it’s too late; the trap set under the debris has wrapped around my ankle and hoisted me upside down quicker than I could react. “Fuck, Jo! I told you to stop, damn it! Hold on, I’ll get you down,” he says as he rushes to the tree that I’m now hanging from.
“What’s going on?” I hear Kane at the door. “Jo? What the fuck?”
“She didn’t listen, Kane. I tried to stop her, but she just kept going,” Dale says as he and Kane work to get me down. The blood is rushing to my head quickly, and the throbbing from earlier is back in full force. It takes them about ten minutes to free my ankle and get me down.
“I thought I told you never to use the front door,” Kane growls at me.
“Yes, but you never told me why. All you said was precarious situation, and every day in this world is a precarious situation.
“Well, now you know, princess. And where in the hell were you going anyway?” Kane asks as he tugs me back to the house. I don’t answer because I’m angry and embarrassed—fucking booby trap. I stumble behind him back into the house, and he turns to me.
“I’m not sure what you were thinking back there …”
“I’m not sure what you were thinking sleeping in my bed,” I pop back at him.
“I passed out, sorry, but that has nothing to do with what just happened. Where were you going?”
“Out, I was going out. Fresh air and all that.”
“Fresh air, okay. From now on you go out back, as you now know the front is trapped. That’s the only way in so we have it set up where no one gets in but us, you got that?”
“Hey, you have no right to be pissed at me. I’m just a girl …”
“Wait right there, princess. You’re more than just a girl, you’re …”
“I’m what, Kane?”
“You’re a Merc now, and Mercs protect their own, but I can’t protect you if you’re off running around like a wild child.” The fun and games from earlier clearly vanished. His eyes are cold and demanding, and I realize he’s still holding my hand.
“I told you from the beginning, I don’t need protecting,” I say as I try to pull my hand away, but he pulls me closer, his other hand tugging on my ponytail, tipping my head back.
“Princess, you’re with me now, and I protect what’s mine.” His eyes are on fire as he tugs my hair back, his lips finding my neck as he pushes me back against the wall. He lets my ponytail go and I stiffen my back against the wall.
“I’m not yours, Kane,” I spit back at him, trying to push him away.
“No?”
“No,” I breathe out a husky breath.
“I think you are; you just haven’t accepted it yet.”
“Kane, stop,” I say, trying to push him back, but he’s stronger than me. His fingers pluck my nipples through my t-shirt; they harden under his touch, and that’s a foreign feeling for me. He’s gentle but firm, unlike the men at Brampton. My mind flashes back to the first time I was put on parade while the men selected their mates. Each dirty, greasy, smelly man would come up to me and touch me, shoving their fingers inside me to see if I was tight enough, pinching and pulling at my nipples and putting their mouths on me. The first time, I was horrified, crying and screaming. But I learned quickly that crying only made it worse. The second time, I just stood there with my eyes closed, crying on the inside.
But this … this is different. He’s not rough or violent, but I’m still not sure how to take this. His fingers come up under my chin, and he lifts my face to look at him. There is no violence in his eyes, no wicked expressions and no dirty words or him telling me how he’s going to have his way with me. His fingers brush against my cheek, and he kisses me, softly but firmly. His tongue sweeping out to brush my bottom lip.
My body is stiff and stern, but shaking. He feels me shivering and pulls me into his chest. “Jesus, what did they do to you in there?” he asks as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me so close that I almost can’t breathe.
“You name it, they did it,” I whisper as I try and break away, but he won’t let me go. The fear and flashbacks take over and I go into defensive mode, because that’s all I know. “Let me go, Kane,” I say quietly, but he doesn’t listen. I push back on his chest, and I feel like I’m pushing a steel wall. He grunts and smirks, but he doesn’t move. “Kane, please.”
“Please what, princess?”
“Please stop, I can’t …”
“Can’t what, talk to me. Tell me what you need.”
I’m taken aback by that question. What I need? Isn’t it what he needs? I can’t …I just look down, trying to back away.
He pulls the hair tie out of my hair, my black locks flowing over my shoulders, and he runs his fingers through my hair, gently tugging. The pain is minimal, but it soothes me. It’s not excruciating, but enough to confirm I’m still alive. “Jo, you’re still a woman. Women have needs too and—”
“Stop. Kane, I can’t. I just—”
“Yes, you can, Jo. I’ll help you. But you have trust me.” I look up at him. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t trust anyone, Kane. Not yet, it’s too soon. The memories of Brampton are still fresh. Hell, I just got out a few days ago,” I say, and he finally backs up a bit.
“A few days ago?”
“Yeah, you found me on day three of my so-called freedom.” I sigh as I move away from the wall, my body brushing against his as I maneuver myself from in-between him and the wall. The friction of his skin on mine sends chills down my spine. Sure, I’ve felt the hands of a man before on my body, but I had no say in what went on.
“D
amn, Jo, I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“Well, you thought wrong, Kane,” I argue, though I can still feel the tingle of his skin on mine. “It’s all wrong, Kane. All of this.” I turn to him.
“Jo, there is nothing wrong with feeling pleasure. Those men at Brampton brainwashed you and all of those other women, including Emma, into believing that.
“You have no idea what Emma went through.”
“No, because she won’t tell me.”
“She probably won’t, so don’t pressure her. She had it harder than I did, and—”
“And what?”
“Nothing, I need to go.”
“Go? Where do you need to go? There’s no place to go.”
“That’s good enough for me, I’ll go nowhere. Anywhere, as long as it’s in the direction of home.”
“Home? Is that where you were trying to go when you left?”
I nod, shame creeping up my face as his eyes go soft. “I need to go home; I need to see if there’s anything left. Daddy had a shelter that we might find food and supplies. Plus, I need to see if Hank and my mom are still there, if they made it through.
“I imagine your brother is off fighting and your mom …” he looks down.
“No, she’s not dead. She can’t be. She was a fighter, and I just know she survived, and I won’t stop until I find them.”
“Fine, I’ll help you.”