A dozen shoppers waited in the other checkout lines. Some eyed me and whispered to their family or friends.
As always, my face attracted attention. I’d spent the past six months in the public spotlight. That was the one part I’d hated about the political endeavors I’d pursued to free the Kazzies. But it had been necessary to free them.
A slight thrum of anxiety rose inside me as the attention on me grew.
Making myself take deep breaths, I continued to let Davin place the grocery items on the conveyer belt. I didn’t try to help. While the pain meds were kicking in, and my injury wasn’t quite as sore, Davin was right.
I’d overdone it today.
The last thing I needed was my wound bursting open as blood seeped through my top. If my face didn’t draw attention, that certainly would.
“That will be three hundred and ninety-eight dollars.” The checkout clerk held out her hand to Davin, her cheeks a rosy pink.
I fumbled for my Sioux Falls SDFDC card and handed it to her. Since food was still rationed, each citizen was only allowed a specific number of food items per week. “It’s on my card. He’s not a resident here.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Her cheeks grew pinker as she gazed up at Davin.
Davin seemed oblivious to her flirtations. Either that or he ignored them. He turned his attention to the TV on the wall as he absentmindedly rubbed my back while I paid.
Humming from the show droned on behind me as the checkout girl counted my change. The national America News Network evening program had just started.
Other shoppers turned idle glances to it when a grisly picture of a sick, young girl flashed on the screen.
The reporter’s voice came next. “Another family is claiming their child is gravely ill after being exposed to Makanza. Zoe Mathison, an eight-year-old girl, was admitted to Chicago Children’s Hospital this afternoon after coming down with mysterious symptoms. Doctors have neither confirmed nor denied if her illness is caused by Makanza, but the family is insistent it is.”
Davin’s hand fell to his side as I dropped the coins I’d been stuffing into my wallet. They clattered to the floor, clinking and clanging on the linoleum.
Davin stiffened, his brow furrowing as he turned his full attention to the screen.
The scene shifted to a new segment, showing Senator Douglas outside of the Chicago hospital. His chest puffed up when the camera swung his way, his beady eyes exuding arrogance.
I snorted in disgust and stuffed the coins into my wallet.
“Is it true that Zoe Mathison was exposed to Makanza and may now die?” The reporter thrust her microphone under the senator’s chin.
The senator’s expression turned grim. “The family reports that she was sledding in a park two days ago when a male Kazzie entered it.”
“How did they know he was a Kazzie?” the reporter asked.
With a curled lip, the senator replied, “He didn’t look like you and me. He had one of the strains, obviously, from his strangely long arms. The family tried to vacate the area, but the Kazzie brushed against Zoe when they passed. So now, their daughter’s been exposed and may die.” His gaze turned to the camera. “Let this be a warning to the American public as we fight to overturn the new law. If you see a Kazzie, run the other way. The MRI’s lies won’t protect you. Only quarantine will.”
A murmur erupted in the crowd of shoppers. Everyone watched the screen. The sound of splintering plastic came next, making me jump.
Davin’s face was contorted in rage as the plastic counter he’d been gripping exploded under his palm.
The checkout clerk’s wide eyes swept from Davin to me as she jumped back.
I hurriedly reached for our bags.
Pain shot through me at the sudden movement. My wound opened. Again. I could feel hot, thick blood trickle onto my skin.
“Davin. Let’s go.” My voice shook.
Hearing my trembling words kicked Davin into action. He grabbed all of the bags from me, his movements an impossible blur.
The checkout girl gasped.
“You’ve been vaccinated. You’ll be fine.” I tried to reassure her, but her gaze swung between Davin and the news segment. Understanding at what Davin was filled her eyes. Terror came next.
Other shoppers seemed to be connecting the dots together as their gazes followed me and Davin. Whispers erupted in the crowd as flashes of fear crossed some people’s faces.
Davin reached for me with his free hand and pulled me gently toward the door.
I seethed quietly as pain throbbed in my chest. Damn Senator Douglas and his lies!
It was possible Zoe Mathison was gravely ill from being exposed, as I had been, but I still knew she’d be okay. The vaccine was 100% effective. The senator was again stirring fears to fuel his own agenda. Whatever that agenda was.
Still, from the terrified whispers that followed us out of the store, I couldn’t help but wonder if the war was not yet won.
6 – CONFESSION
Back at my apartment, I had hoped for a quiet, romantic dinner with Davin. It didn’t seem that was going to happen. He paced back and forth in the kitchen. The groceries sat forgotten on the counter.
I stood by the stove, watching him. “Zoe will be fine, Davin. Makanza won’t kill her—if she even contracted it.”
His movements grew faster. A few times he turned into a blur before slowing so I could see him. “How do you know that? What if she does die? Then they’ll lock us up again! And a child would have died . . . because of us!”
My heart stopped.
A dead child. Davin locked up. My friends back on Reservation 1.
No. Stay calm. Remember the science.
Trembling, I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter tighter. My injury throbbed, yet I bit back my grimace. “No. That won’t happen. She’ll recover, as will everyone else who’s been exposed. In a week, this will all blow over.”
He stopped and faced me. His anguished expression made my stomach plummet.
“You don’t know that, Meghan. What if all of this . . .” He waved at my apartment. At me. At freedom. “What if all of this is just a dream? A dream that they snatch away from us after they realize they can’t control Makanza?”
His chest rose and fell. Panic emanated outward from him, like solar flares bursting from the sun.
I padded toward him unsteadily.
Concern flashed across his eyes when I gripped the counter by the sink to steady myself.
“Those people you speak of?” With my free hand, I grabbed his palm and squeezed tightly. “The ones you’re afraid will snatch your dream away? Those people are me and my co-workers. The Makanza Research Institute. It’s our research that deemed you safe to walk among the public. It’s our perseverance that made it safe for you to leave the reservation. Have faith in us. Have faith in me. Our research is solid. The vaccine works. The government would have never let you out otherwise.”
His eyes dimmed. “But what if there’s an exception? What if . . . your research is wrong?”
Try as I might, I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “You remind me of the terrified public that I spent weeks speaking to. Trust me. The research isn’t wrong. You’ll see.”
Some of the tension in his shoulders abated. He hung his head before muttering in disgust, “I’m sorry. Look at me. I’m no better than the ones who think we should be locked up. Throw a grandiose news story in my face, and I panic.”
I squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay. You’re not the only one feeling this way.” My tone darkened. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Senator Douglas wants. He’s still preying on people’s fears, and that poor girl, Zoe Mathison . . . she’s probably lying in a hospital bed right now while reporters hound her parents. All because fear still rules this country.”
He pulled me closer until we were only inches from touching. “I wish it would all go away. I wish it was years in the future, and you and I were sitting on our porch watching
the sun go down.”
My breath caught in my throat. Before today, we’d never spoken of the future. Not really. At times, we’d hinted at the coming weeks or months. But never years. Years were too definite. Too solid. They’d always been something that could disappear at any second.
Swallowing the tightness in my throat, I gazed up at him. “I’d like that.”
He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me.
With my good arm, I hugged him back. The feel of his solid chest and the smell of his intoxicating scent made me melt against him and close my eyes. But the other side of me, the side that shot my hormones into overdrive, wanted to squirm as an aching need to be with him coiled in my belly.
His heartbeat increased against my ear as his hands roamed up and down my back.
Shivers struck me as I pressed myself closer to him.
Cursing under his breath, he stepped back and put a solid foot of distance between us. “How is it that you continually make me forget that you’re injured?”
I giggled which got a smile out of him.
He lifted me into his arms and cradled me against his chest.
My breath stopped. Once again, he’d moved so fast that it didn’t hurt.
Gliding to the table, he sat me down and then rearranged the other chair so I could prop my feet on it. “I’ll make dinner. You sit and watch. You’re still looking pale.”
“Sounds fine to me. You haven’t seen me cook.” I settled back against the hard chair, but no matter how many times I shifted, the chair’s firm back jarred my shoulder.
He frowned while watching my movements. “Hold on.”
He turned into a blur.
In less than a blink, the lounge chair from my living room appeared beside me. Another blink, and the kitchen table was against the front door, creating more room in the tiny area. A third blink and the lounge chair was positioned where the table had been, allowing one sitting on it the best view of the kitchen.
Gently molding his arms under my knees and around my back, he lifted me before I could protest.
I was already seated in the lounge chair before I said, “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
He grinned devilishly. “I know, but what fun would it be if I couldn’t show off my skills?”
I laughed as he made a few more arrangements with the furniture.
When I was seated with my feet reclined, Davin placed a blanket over me, and then handed me two pain meds and a glass of water.
“It’s been a few hours since your last dose. You better take these.”
Biting back a smile, I downed the pills. “My mother would approve of your hovering.”
He cocked his head. “How was it with your parents over the weekend? You haven’t said much about them.”
After another swallow of water, I shrugged. “It was surprisingly . . . good.”
Grunting, he moved back to the stove. “I’m glad to hear it.”
He pulled out the chicken and fresh veggies we’d purchased. In my small kitchen, he seemed larger than life. Between his broad shoulders that bunched and moved under his thin t-shirt, to his large hands that swallowed the whole chicken in his palm, or the brightness of his eyes every time they flashed my way . . . I’d never seen a more delectable scene in my apartment.
Squirming that had nothing to do with my injury made my cheeks flush. Trying to cover it up, I asked, “Do you know how to cook now?”
The one time we’d made dinner together had been on Reservation 1, right after the gates had finally opened to family members and friends. That night, both of us had been like fish out of water until Sharon showed up. Thankfully, she’d made dinner.
Davin shrugged as he hunted for a knife. Squeaking from the kitchen drawers being pulled open followed. “I’m no expert, but my mother has helped me remember the basics over the past week. Besides, she warned me to never let you loose in the kitchen.”
My mouth dropped which got a deep laugh from him.
“She said you’re good at stirring things, though.”
This time, I laughed. “She’s right. Trust me. It’s much safer if I stay over here.”
Of course, Davin didn’t make dinner like a normal human. After he found the culinary equipment he needed, he did everything at his speed, which basically meant it looked like a tornado whipped around the room.
Delectable scents soon filled the kitchen. With the chicken seasoned and roasting in the oven, potatoes peeled, cubed and ready to be boiled, and a fresh salad with homemade french dressing sitting beside it—he’d effectively completed something I’d never managed—a homemade, delicious supper just waiting to be eaten.
“Sharon’s done well. I had no idea you could do all of that.”
He wiped his hands on a dish towel. “Yeah, it’s been awhile since I’ve cooked, but it’s coming back.”
I sighed in bliss. “Good. I hate cooking. How about you always do it?”
A dark lock of hair fell across his face as he set the timer on the stove. “Fine with me, but that means you’re doing the dishes.”
BY THE TIME we finished supper and cleaned the kitchen, it was nine at night. Embarrassingly, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open and despite Davin’s arrival, I still had to work tomorrow. A cure was needed.
Yawning, I covered my mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . tired.”
Davin’s brow furrowed. “It’s because you’re doing too much. You shouldn’t have gone into work today.”
“But Bethany—”
In a flash, he was at my side and putting a finger to my lips. “Thousands of people work at the Compounds. They can help Bethany. Right now, you have a fractured rib and a still healing bullet hole in your chest. You shouldn’t be working. At all.”
As much as I wanted to argue, I knew he was right. So when he insisted that I go to bed, I didn’t object. I also let him lift me from the chair and carry me to the bathroom since he seemed to enjoy it so much.
Once in my bedroom, I quickly changed before slipping under the covers. Outside my bedroom window, the wind howled as glimpses of the moon appeared through wispy clouds.
It was only when I pulled the covers up that I remembered there was only one bed in my apartment. And unlike Ian, I didn’t want Davin to sleep on the couch.
I scooted to the far side of my bed and said haltingly, “Are you . . . um, you know . . . going to sleep in here?”
In the dim room, his eyes grew hooded as he stepped closer. “Is that an invitation?”
My cheeks flushed. At least it’s dark in here so he can’t see. “Yes.”
The mattress sagged when his heavy weight pushed onto it. “In that case, yeah.”
“Um, you still have your clothes on.”
He chuckled. “Oh, right.”
In a flash, he was out of the room. Rustling sounded from the entryway before my apartment door opened and closed. A few seconds later, the sound of the door opening again filtered into my room. Not even thirty seconds had passed from when Davin left to when he strolled back in . . . wearing only pajama pants.
My breath stopped. His chest was visible in the moonlight. Strong pectorals and a flat abdomen littered with scars made my mouth go dry.
“What . . . How?” I sat up straighter. “Did you just go outside?”
He inched closer. “My bag was still in the car. I had to get it.”
Eyeing his pajamas again, I raised an eyebrow. “You must have been optimistic you’d be spending the night.”
Chuckling, he reached the edge of my bed and pulled the covers back before slipping under them. “I may have hoped for this.”
My heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest. Davin’s in my apartment. In my bed. And the only thing he’s wearing is thin pants.
“Are you okay?” His voice grew husky.
“Yeah,” I squeaked.
Inching closer, his hand brushed my abdomen.
My heart beat so wildly I thought I’d faint.
“
Is this okay?” He scooted against my side. Heat from his body pressed against me like a hard, hot blanket.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Grunting, he settled against me until he spooned my length, his arm possessively locked around my waist.
I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of him even though tension strummed along my limbs. I felt as tight as a guitar string, but I’d dreamed for so long of experiencing this. It seemed too good to be true. Davin’s mine. He’s finally all mine.
The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4 Page 92