An Unexpected Sanctuary

by Cassie Decker

  Kyle doesn’t let me ask any more questions about it. He turns me toward him and maneuvers our arms in the traditional way, with my hand on his right shoulder and his hand at my lower back. It is a little silly at first, swaying to the music like that, and we both chuckle. Then Kyle pulls me close against his body, and I melt against his taller frame. We rock back and forth, our feet barely moving. I rest my head on Kyle’s shoulder, close my eyes, and breathe in his familiar woodsy scent. Sometimes there are good things, good moments, still left for us after the end of the world, and I’m going to remember this one for a long, long time.

  Kyle hooks a finger under my chin and tips my head up. Our lips meet, and it’s just as tender and slow as the first time we kissed, a week after he saved my life in Fort Collins. He tastes like sweet syrupy peaches. Sliding my hands up into Kyle’s thick hair, I graze my thumb over the sensitive curve of his ear. Kyle gasps from the touch, and I swallow the sound eagerly. He’s all I have ever wanted. Strong, dependable, loving, sexy as hell. I don’t know what I would do without him. I couldn’t ever ask for anything more.

  The music has long since stopped playing when we finally pull our mouths away from one another. I’m breathless and more than a little aroused. Kyle is too, judging by his dilated pupils and the bulge in his jeans. He gives me a lopsided grin, a quirk of one dark eyebrow, and tugs me back toward the fireplace. There’s still a chill in the house, even with the fire going, so we don’t undress completely. Socks, shirts, and hoodies are left on while pants and threadbare boxers are pulled off.

  Kyle grunts as he falls backward onto the sleeping bag covering the couch with me on top, straddling him. Heavy anticipation is throbbing through me as I curl forward to brace my elbows on either side of his head, brushing my hardened member against his in the process. I capture his lips once again in a kiss that turns me inside out.

  Kyle pulls in a sharp breath, wrapping his hands around both our cocks, and I moan straight into his open mouth. The channel he makes with his cupped fingers for me to slide through isn’t too tight or too loose. It’s absolute perfection, and it feels so damn good, especially with his hot, silky skin rubbing on mine. I can feel every ridge and vein on his thick erection as I roll my hips in a frantic, graceless counter-rhythm to the pumps of his hands, faster and faster until I’m right at the very edge. Then he strokes the pad of his thumb over the tip of my cock while simultaneously sucking hard on my tongue, and I am done for. I bury my head in the crook of his neck and breathe out a hitching sigh into the fabric of his hoodie as I let go and come all over his hands.

  I don’t last long tonight, but neither does Kyle; it’s been a while since we’ve had a quiet, warm place to be together like this. Just because it was a little frenzied and over in a matter of minutes doesn’t mean it didn’t feel fucking incredible, though. One day when we’ve found a safe place to stop and put down some permanent roots, I’m going to take my time with him, and you better believe it’s going to be an all-day ordeal. It’s one of the things I think about a lot when we’re walking for hours on end to New York. My mind is constantly wandering toward the dirty things I want to do with him.

  After we clean up and get our clothes straightened out and jeans zipped, we squish together on the couch. I press soft kisses to Kyle’s temple and lie with him until I can see he’s fallen asleep. I’m tired too, but I force my eyes to stay open. I can’t sleep now—I have a job to do tonight.

  After easing my way off Kyle, I quietly put my coat on. Not wanting to make too much noise, I grab my backpack and boots to put on once I get out the back door. Giving Kyle one last glance before I head out, I smile. He’s bathed in the orange flicker of the fire and looks so content. I promise myself to hurry back as fast as I can.

  Outside on the covered cement patio, I slip into my boots and sling my bag over my shoulders. The air is colder than it was when we first got here, and it makes me want to turn around and go right back inside where it’s warm. But I remind myself this project is far too important to be derailed by a few subzero degrees. The look I can imagine on Kyle’s face when I give him the finished watch is what drives me. Zipping my coat up under my chin, I begin making my way around to the front of the house.

  Clouds have moved in again. There’s only a few, but they’re building up and starting to block out the stars occasionally when they skim by. A faint halo around the moon tells me more snow is most likely coming tonight. I kick at the white powder already on the ground and grouse to myself about how sick of it I am. Maybe I can convince Kyle to stay on at the B and B for the rest of the week so we can celebrate Christmas here before getting back on our journey to New York. Mostly because it would be a nice house to spend the holidays in, and partly because I want a break from all this walking.

  I have made it almost all the way back to the main thoroughfare when that feeling of being watched hits me again. Stopping dead in my tracks, I hold my breath to hear better. Silence greets me. My pulse speeds up, and I wonder if it is a bad idea to be out here by myself.

  The stillness is broken in a sudden flurry of motion as a cottontail rabbit darts across the snowy road before me and nearly gives me a goddamn heart attack. After I get a minute to calm myself, I shake my head and let out a chuckle that is more a huff of relief than an actual laugh. I’m again reminded of how helpless I’d be in this world without Kyle. All the more reason to get to the jewelry store and find the last few parts for his Christmas present. He needs to know how much he’s done for me. I only hope the store has what I need.

  Steeling my resolve, I start walking again. After a brisk mile-and-a-half trek, I arrive at my destination. My nose is running like a faucet and my fingers are numb inside my fleece-lined gloves, but I’ve made it. My triumph is short-lived, though, because my next task is to actually figure out how to get inside. The door and all the windows are covered with plywood, and I can only assume, in a store like this, there are security bars behind those boards as well. I think back to the time Kyle broke into a pharmacy fortified like Fort Knox in order to get me antibiotics after I got sick from drinking out of a stream. He went in through the top, then came out the front door with his arms loaded down with medicine. My hero, always.

  I do a quick scan of the building and find a half ladder leading to the roof, but it’s too far from the ground for me to grab onto it. A big dumpster is sitting nearby, so I have the bright idea to wheel it over and use it as a step-up, just like in some of the videogames I used to play.

  Pushing a dumpster is not as easy as the games make it seem, though, especially in a foot of snow. Sweat is beading on my brow, even in these frigid temperatures, by the time I wrestle the damn thing over to the wall. I scramble on top of it and discover it’s the perfect height to be able to climb the ladder. Rusted from the elements and disrepair, the rungs creaks ominously as I go, and I have a rather terrifying vision of the whole thing breaking apart and flinging me right to the cold, hard ground. But I make it to the roof with no problems, surprisingly.

  My issues really start when I get up there. I realize I have no idea how Kyle actually got inside the pharmacy. I see a big air-conditioning unit in the middle of the roof and decide going in through the vents is my best bet. Pulling off the metal panels at the front reveals a big air duct leading down. After seeing how pitch black my route will be, I rummage in my backpack for my headlamp, then I slide inside headfirst. The passage is just barely big enough to accommodate me and my bag, and I have a claustrophobic moment of panic when I feel like I’m going to get stuck. Letting out a long, slow breath calms me down, though, and I continue on.

  Army-crawling through the duct brings me to a vented opening. Glass jewelry cases are visible through the slats, and I am relieved they are still intact and have not been raided. The chances of finding what I need are still pretty high. I bang on the vent until it gives way and clangs to the floor ten feet down. The ominous creaks of an already-weakened duct system that’s now supporting my body weight reverberate against
the thin metal walls with the movement.

  I am shimmying over the hole I made in order to back up and get my feet through first when half of the duct gives way. In a shower of fiberglass and cracked plaster, I fall through the ceiling and land hard on my back. The wind is knocked out of me. As I struggle to breathe, all I can think of is how stupid I am to try something like this. But then I think of Kyle and how much this gift will mean to him and how much I love him. I can’t stop now.

  Rolling to my stomach and then pulling myself up to hands and knees, I look around the shop. My headlamp reflects off the jewelry in the cases around me, making it seem like glimmering banks of snow are being preserved behind the glass. There’s a door at the back with a sign stating it’s the workshop area. I push to my feet with a pained groan from my fall and step through the ceiling debris to get across the room.

  The workshop is barely the size of a closet, but it has everything I could have hoped to find. A wave of excitement flutters through me with all the delicate tools laid out on the workbench under a thin layer of dust. There’s even a small box with various-sized gears off to the side. First the lighter back at the house, and now this? It really is shaping up to be my lucky day.

  I pull the watch from my pocket and lay it on the table. Taking the back off shows me most of the parts are still in their places. Things have shifted a bit without all the right pieces to hold it together tightly. Digging through the box of gears produces the escape wheel I need, as well as the crown wheel. A quick search through some drawers under the workbench, and I find the last tiny screw I’ve been looking for too. I have to pull some of the parts out of the watch to get it all back in the correct order, but even with my half-frozen fingers, I’m still dexterous enough to get it all together.

  After screwing the back plate on again, I realize I’ve been chewing my bottom lip in concentration. It’s something I had no idea I did until Kyle brought it to my attention when we first met. I blushed when he said it was cute, and I find myself blushing again now as the memory warms me.

  It’s the moment of truth now that I’ve got the watch all back together. I let out a deep breath slowly and begin to wind it until I catch resistance. There’s a moment of dread when I let go of the knob and nothing happens. But then it starts working, and I watch with delight and relief as the hands begin moving seamlessly. In all honesty, I’m pretty damn pleased with myself. Things rarely go so well for me. I am a little apprehensive at how easy it was.

  Satisfied after giving the watch a final once-over, I put it back into my jacket pocket where it’s lived for the last four months. Tomorrow, when the sun is out, I will be able to set it to the correct time. Now that it’s actually finished, I don’t know if I’ll be able wait a whole week to give my gift to Kyle. The anticipation will surely kill me, but it’ll be so worth it just to see him smile.

  I walk back into the jewelry showroom and study the air-conditioning vent hanging half out of the ceiling. It’s pretty obvious I’m not going to be leaving by that route. The front door appears to be my only option. Luckily for me, all I have to do is unlock from this side, and it swings toward me with a groan of rusted hinges. Now the plywood nailed into the wall of the storefront is the only thing blocking my way to the outside.

  The movies always make it seem like throwing your body weight into a door with your shoulder is an easy way to break down the barrier in your way. Real life is a lot harder and much more painful. It takes me two tries, with a running start, I might add, before I am able to smash through the wood panel. My momentum propels me past the splintered board and down hard onto the snow-covered ground.

  I look up slowly when I realize I’m not alone. The first thing I see is an honest-to-God horse-drawn sleigh like something off a mass-produced Christmas card. The second thing I see is Kyle. He’s slumped in the back of the sleigh with his eyes half-closed and a streak of red smeared down his temple.

  My stomach does a sick flip, and I scramble to my feet. But before I can start running toward him, a strong grip snags my upper arm and yanks me backward.

  “Not so fast,” a deep voice says beside me. “I got a job for you two.”

  My hands are pulled behind my back and tied together before I know it. Fear races in jagged stripes down my spine as a man who’s got a good six inches of height on me steps to my side. He has a beard almost as dark as the black beanie he’s wearing, and he smells inexplicably of apple cider. He looks like he belongs to one of the gangs we’ve been trying so hard to avoid this last year. I guess the feeling I had earlier of being watched wasn’t unfounded after all. He’s probably been keeping his eye on us since we got off the interstate.

  My heart is in my throat, but the steadiness of my voice surprises me when I say, “We don’t have much, but you can take whatever you want. Just let Kyle go.”

  The man’s eyes widen marginally in surprise, and he loosens his hand just enough for me to wrench my arm from his grasp.

  “I don’t want what you’ve got. I just need you,” he says and confuses me more than I already am.

  I don’t have time to dwell on it, though. Kyle is all I care about right now. I give the man behind me a wary look and carefully climb into the sleigh.

  Sitting beside Kyle is awkward with my backpack on and my hands tied, but I manage it. Kyle’s hands are bound behind his back with zip ties like mine. But he’s not wearing his coat and is shivering from the cold. I scoot as close to him as I can and nudge him to lean on me to leech off my body heat. The cut on his temple doesn’t seem too deep, thankfully, but he’s dazed.

  “Tobin,” he whispers, nuzzling closer to my chest. “Where were you? I—I thought I lost you….”

  I scowl at the man who is now climbing into the driver’s seat. The carriage dips down with the movement, and Kyle moans.

  “What did you do to him? And why in the hell would you think we’d want to go anywhere with you?” My initial fear is giving way to anger with each passing second.

  “He put up a fight,” the man answers simply in reply to my first question. With the reins to the horse in one hand, he turns toward me. “Listen, kid, I’m not asking if you want to go. One or both of you, it’s your choice, but either way, I’m getting someone to come with me.”

  My mind races, and I feel hopeless at my lack of options. I know I’m not strong enough to fight him off myself, nor can either of us make a run for it in this snow, not with Kyle checked out like he is, and especially not with our hands tied. I consider demanding the man drop Kyle off back at the house, and I’ll go alone, but for once in the time we’ve known each other, Kyle needs me. There is no way I’m willing to be separated from him, not now, not ever.

  “Where are we going?” I concede with a sigh.

  “I’ve got a job for you,” the man says, turning back around without giving me an answer. Clicking at the horse, he starts us off into the frigid dark.

  Boarded-up farmhouses and the burnt shells of unrecognizable structures fly by us on either side with the passing scenery. The clouds have really built up overhead. Snow is starting to fall softly, with the big fat flakes catching in Kyle’s hair like bits of wedding-day confetti as we glide down the road. The muffled jangle of the horse’s tack is beautiful in the quiet night. It would all be pretty romantic under different circumstances.

  We’ve been moving somewhere around five minutes when Kyle stirs against me, finally waking up all the way. The menace in the driver’s seat must have given him a hell of a knock. I nudge him back as well as I can without my hands and use my headlamp, which still happens to be on, to check his pupils. I’m relieved when I see his eyes are as sharp and clear as ever.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, sitting up straight and shaking his head. He winces from the movement and squeezes his eyes shut.

  “We’ve been volunteered to do some kind of job, and this guy won’t take no for an answer.” I jerk my chin toward our driver and current kidnapper.

  Kyle suddenly seems to remember the
events of the past thirty minutes and struggles against the ties at his hands. “Let us go, you son of a bitch! I told you to just take what you wanted and leave us alone!”

  He looks like he’s about to lunge himself onto the driver’s seat, but I stop him by sliding to the side and blocking him with my body. The last thing I need right now is for Kyle to fall out of the sleigh at the speed we’re going. Besides, it won’t do any good. The guy is going to take us where he wants us to go one way or another.

  I lean forward and press my forehead into the dip of Kyle’s shoulder to try to calm him down. His breath is coming out in hard, angry pants, but it slows as I slide my cheek up to the side of his neck.

  “I couldn’t keep you safe, Tobin,” Kyle says hoarsely. “He grabbed you before I even woke up. I tried everything I could to get away, to protect you. But I wasn’t strong enough.”

  The understanding that Kyle thinks the man must have grabbed me first since I wasn’t there on the couch with him hits me like a punch to the gut. I should have been there with him. I should have told him my plan instead of sneaking off in the night to finish his gift. I should have paid closer attention to my surroundings. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

  Guilt is crushing in on my heart as I open my mouth to confess. I’ll have to ruin the surprise of his Christmas present when I tell him where exactly I was, but I cannot have Kyle feeling like any of this is his fault.

  Before I can even utter one word, the sleigh pulls to an abrupt stop. “Get out,” our captor says gruffly.

  Kyle and I both look up. We’re in front of a huge red clapboard barn-type building with white-trim windows. There are two additions on either side of it that don’t quite reach the three-story height of the middle part, but it is all that same candy-cane red and white. The sloped roof on top of the largest section of the building appears to sag under the weight of the snow covering it, and part of it near the back looks like it has caved in altogether. There is a sound of rushing water nearby, perhaps coming from behind the house, as I stand and shuffle to the step leading off the sleigh.