The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “Oh!” I exclaimed as we passed by a cedar-sided bungalow. “We should stop in there…might be some useful books.”

  Jason shrugged and dismounted; using as few words as possible had become his new standard around me. It was driving me insane, especially considering that he rarely let me out of his sight. He’d become my silent, ever-present shadow. A big, protective, lethal one.

  Ky scrutinized the sprawling, brown home. “Uh, why? What am I missing here?”

  “This is Mr. Grayson’s house. He is…was…a teacher at our high school back in the day. He sort of collected books on everything, and his house functioned as the town’s unofficial library. You know…’cause we don’t have a real one. He seemed to think he could educate the entire community through the power of books alone,” I explained.

  “Got it,” Ky said.

  I was no longer a stranger to breaking and entering, but the whole “let’s break into the house of our old teacher so we can steal his books” thing felt odd. Regardless, it ended up being quite the fortuitous stop.

  As we were skimming the bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling, searching for anything that might prove useful in our post-civilization world, we heard the crack of a dropped book on the weathered wood floor.

  “What the…?” came a man’s voice from the front door—it was Mr. Grayson. His hand was still on the doorknob, his mouth was gaping open in shock, and a heavy tome rested at his feet. “What are you…I never thought someone would…books, you know. Wait…Danielle, is that you?” he asked, finally expressing a complete thought.

  Pierced by his sharp stare, I was instantly transported back to high school. I rushed to explain, “Yes, Mr. Grayson, it’s me, Dani. We, um, didn’t think anyone was here or that anyone would mind if we…um…well…”

  “Borrowed some books? From my private collection? Assuming I was dead?” Mr. Grayson finished. His expression turned musing as he examined each of us from a distance. “I’d wager,” he said, breaking the tense silence, “that your companion is Jason Cartwright. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Jason affirmed.

  Mr. Grayson pondered the situation for another long moment, allowing the silence to expand. I jumped when he finally spoke. “Danielle, if I remember correctly, I would expect to find you here with the younger Cartwright, unless she has succumbed to the—”

  “No!” I hastily interrupted. “Zoe’s alive. She’s just not, well, here. Last we heard from her, she was at Fort Knox. With some military people. She’s safe though…I think.” I hope.

  He nodded, and his lips quirked into a slight smile. “I see. Well, I don’t know this other lad, but I’ll assume for the moment that he’s fine since he’s with you two. I suppose you’d like to know about the past month here in our lovely little coastal paradise.” Sarcasm dripped heavily off of the end of his statement. Good old Mr. Grayson…

  “But I have somewhere I must be in a short amount of time. Will you meet me here tomorrow?” he asked politely.

  The three of us exchanged questioning looks and shrugs, finally nodding to each other. Why not?

  “Wonderful. Does one o’clock in the afternoon work with your schedules?”

  I coughed, choking down a laugh. Schedules. Hilarious.

  Ignoring me, Jason replied, “Yes, Sir. We’ll see you then.”

  As we left, I glanced back at Mr. Grayson and couldn’t help but wonder about his pressing engagement. Just the idea that he had somewhere to be was surprisingly foreign…and amusing.

  37

  ZOE

  Waking the next morning was rough. I’d tossed and turned all night, thinking about Jake and the expression on his face when I’d left the common room. I was still exhausted and wasn’t even close to ready for a day filled with training and travel planning.

  Throwing off the covers, I pried myself from the warmth of the bed and slipped my feet into my brown, fur-lined slippers. I knew I’d need hot water if I was going to carpe diem, so I grabbed the towel hanging over the desk chair and headed out the door.

  The frigid air gnawed at my skin as I made my way down the empty hallway. Hearing the clacking of pool balls, I knew Dave was awake and playing his usual early morning game of pool with Stacey. I realized I was probably the last one to get up and dragged my feet lazily along the ground as I entered the empty locker room. The air was still steamy from someone else’s shower.

  After opening my locker, I sluggishly pulled off my sweatpants. My shirt quickly followed. As the steam dissipated, the brisk air bit at my exposed skin. I HATE winter. The cold tortured me as it lingered, seeming to mock my constant discomfort.

  Hearing the sound of a plastic bottle hitting the shower floor, I jumped, swiveling around in surprise. I held my crumpled shirt against my exposed chest. The sound of bare feet on tile preceded Jake as he strode around the corner of the line of lockers…completely naked.

  Rumpling his hair with a towel, Jake almost ran into me before noticing my own mostly nude body frozen in front of him. He stopped abruptly, his expression shifting in recognition: surprise – confusion – intrigue.

  Beads of water glided down his skin, and his arm flexed as his fist clenched the towel hanging at his perfectly trimmed side. My eyes followed the droplets as they trickled down his sculpted abs, gravitating toward his…

  Realizing I was gawking at his nakedness, I raised my eyes to his face. He was curiously appraising my own barely covered body. His look was covetous, and he abruptly shifted his towel to cover the evidence of his interest.

  “I didn’t know anyone else was in here,” he said casually. Why is he just standing there? He was still naked, and I had to turn away or risk drooling.

  “Shit,” I mouthed, realizing I was in the most deliciously awkward situation of my life. “I didn’t know you were in here either.” My boy-short bottoms and tangled mess of waist-length hair were all that covered my backside. One hand quickly moved to cover my face, and I considered putting my shirt back on. But then I’d have to pull it away from my boobs…

  “I’m pretty sure I put the white towel on the handle,” he said. The playfulness in his voice was back, and I could feel heat painting red splotches up my neck and cheeks.

  “Yeah, I guess I missed it. I’m not really a morning person.” In the locker’s small mirror I could see his short hair, wet and spikey, and my body hummed at the thought of running my hands over it. “Are you planning on getting dressed by any chance?” I murmured.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?” I could tell he was smiling.

  Facing him, I fought the grin that threatened to expose my delight. “Slightly. I wasn’t expecting to see a naked man when I woke up this morning.”

  “You don’t like naked men?” His uncharacteristic joke made me laugh as I tried to focus on only his face.

  “Of course I do, I just wasn’t prepared”—I pointed at him—“for this!”

  He said nothing and chuckled as he strolled toward the door, his firm glutes flexing. I thought I glimpsed a smirk on his freshly shaven face as he turned the corner, wrapping his towel loosely around his waist as he vanished.

  Breathe.

  Again.

  I took numerous deep breaths, gathered my shampoo, conditioner, soap, and razor, and headed for the showers. I was anxious for the hot water to wash away my sudden desire. Seemingly indestructible and with a body fit for battle, Jake reminded me of Achilles, and I wondered what his weakness might be. I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled his sexy grin.

  After my shower, I dressed and braided my hair, put my things away, and headed to the mess hall for breakfast. Of course I found Jake there, sitting at a table with Biggs. Great, just the three of us, I thought sarcastically. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I lost my appetite.

  “Feel better?” Jake asked with a barely-there smirk.

  “You could say that,” I said before I could stop the words from escaping.

  A jovial glint danced in his eyes. “Yeah?”<
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  Biggs’s head turned back and forth between us until, thankfully, he interrupted. “When you’re finished with breakfast, Zoe, we’ll start training. Harper can’t today, so you’re stuck with me. Okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” I realized I hadn’t seen Harper for a few days—not since the fireworks show—and the fact that I hadn’t really noticed his absence was surprising…and made me feel horrible. “Is Harper okay?” I asked.

  Biggs stopped chewing, like my question required a lot of thought. “Why do you ask?”

  “I haven’t seen him in a couple of days.” I eyed him closely. “Just wondering…,” I said, promising myself I would find Harper before training.

  The three of us finished eating in silence, and after a while, Jake and I took our trays into the kitchen. As we scraped off our plates, we exchanged stolen glances until we heard Sanchez march in and whisper something to Biggs, who still sat at the table, jotting down notes.

  I looked over at Jake curiously. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  He shook his head.

  After a second thought, I asked, “Would you even tell me if you did?”

  “I have no idea what’s going on,” was all he said as we watched the secret exchange.

  Biggs looked up at me and smiled weakly. “Sorry Zoe, I have to bail on our training today. I’ll catch up with you later,” he blurted, hurrying away before I could ask any questions.

  “Hmmm…” Abandoning my plate in the sink, I debated whether I should follow after him like an annoying little kid.

  “If you’re serious about leaving,” Jake said, “you need to keep training.” He ruminated for a moment, completely unconcerned with what was happening with our other friends. “Do you want my help?” Despite his kindness, he seemed to find little pleasure in his offer.

  “Um…” Knowing Jake might convince me to stay, I was hesitant to accept his help. “Sure,” I said, accepting anyway—a small part of me simply wanted to be around him.

  “I can show you how to fight…and how to use a gun and a knife, but that’s about it,” he said.

  “You can?” I teased.

  “I know enough to get by.” He flashed a mischievous grin, and for a moment I saw the Jake I’d encountered in the locker room.

  To begin our workout, we started by jogging to the gym. The day was pleasant and getting warmer as we ran down the sidewalk.

  “How do you ‘know enough to get by,’ exactly?” I asked between breaths, hoping, but not expecting, to catch a glimpse into his past. Maybe he knows karate? I doubted it; I couldn’t picture a younger version of him being dropped off at a Dojo.

  “I got into a lot of trouble growing up,” Jake said after a few strides.

  “Can you please be more specific? I don’t mean to pry—I know how you hate that—but as your new trainee, I feel I deserve to know what I’m getting myself into. Are we talking skills and precision or hardcore street-fighting?” I half-joked.

  Jake smiled. “I moved around a lot. I was a stupid kid and wasted my time doing a lot of stupid things.”

  Had he practiced karate as a child or gone target shooting with his dad, my curiosity would’ve been satisfied, but his dismissive explanation was much more Jake-like, alluding to the untamed side I sometimes saw in his eyes. I fought the temptation to dig deeper, to learn about him through his memories. I thought about how far we’d come the last couple of days, and I didn’t want to ruin our developing friendship by knowing too much too fast—plus there was that whole…none-of-your-business vibe.

  “So let’s just be clear, we’re not cage fighting or anything, right?” I asked playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.

  “No cage fighting,” he said. “Although…that’s an entertaining thought.” His rough laugh made me giggle.

  I stopped jogging. I just giggled.

  “You okay?” Jake asked as he stopped and stared back at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

  Reality hit me like a ton of bricks falling one-by-one—each brick an interaction between Jake and me during the short time we’d known each other. As they landed, I recalled every word, every look, every gesture, and my conflicted emotions for him became clearer.

  I’m…into him. I like being around him. If the world was normal, I’d want to date him.

  The image of his sister dying in his arms flashed in my mind, and I knew I could never have him. I’m leaving for Colorado. His sister died there. He only wants to come along to protect me because he couldn’t protect her. I don’t even know how he really feels about me.

  As he anxiously approached me, I grasped for control. “I’m fine, sorry,” I told him, waving him away.

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I jogged ahead, trying to stay focused on our day of training. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to do today.”

  I hated pushing Jake away like that, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was too caught off guard by my troublesome feelings for him, and I just wanted to ignore them.

  When we reached the gym, we began our session with some kickboxing. Jake started by showing me how to throw a proper punch against a heavy punching bag.

  “Harper can show you how to wiggle your way out of an attacker’s arms all he wants, but then what? You need to learn how to fight back, otherwise, getting away would be pointless.”

  As he demonstrated, his triceps flexed with each extension of his arm, taunting me. I wished he’d put his long sleeves back on as much as I wished I could tear off everything he was still wearing.

  Why did I have to realize this now? I groaned inwardly.

  “Why are you stopping? Keep going,” he demanded.

  “I hardly see how this is helpful,” I whined, getting out of step with the heavy bag. It knocked into me with a thud, and I almost fell over.

  “If you can’t defend yourself against an inanimate object, how can you expect to protect yourself out there. I won’t always be there; you need to learn how to take care of yourself.”

  I sighed. “You’re right. You won’t always be there because you’re not coming with me.”

  Shaking his head, he hit his bag harder. “Whatever you say,” he said, mocking me.

  “Why do you have to say it like that? Why can’t you just help me and not try to make me feel like shit for wanting to leave? Is it really that difficult?”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m surprised Harper’s not chaining you to your bed. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Harper’s not in charge of me. He’s not my dad, not my boyfriend…” Jake’s pensive frown told me he’d assumed otherwise. “You thought we were together?” I asked, taken aback.

  He just smirked at my words and continued assaulting his heavy bag—left, right, then left again. Between the nicknames and the flirting, I could see why Jake might’ve thought there was something going on between Harper and me. Beyond that, I was intrigued that he’d given it any thought at all, and happy that the revelation seemed to satisfy him.

  “Even if Harper and I were together,” I said, “he wouldn’t get a say.” I continued to kick my bag, my building aggression making my strikes more powerful. “Besides, he’s got his own shit going on, apparently.” I could feel sweat beading on my neck and chest, and fatigue was spreading through my thighs and butt. “Plus, since I have your blood inside me, I think there’s a chance I’ll be—”

  Jake stopped mid-punch, catching his bag as it swung back to him. “Jesus Christ, you can’t count on that,” he said angrily. “It might’ve been a one-time thing. I can’t believe you’re not taking this more seriously.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued kicking to avoid his scrutiny.

  “Turn your foot out, or you’ll break your ankle,” he ordered and resumed beating the shit out of his own bag.

  I stopped kicking and steadied myself to catch my breath. “Would you calm down? I don’t want you to come with me,” I lied. “So why are you making such a big deal about it?” />
  Between strikes he said, “Calm down? I didn’t save…your life just so…you could leave and…get yourself killed. Sorry if I seem…a little….pissed…about…it.”

  I took a step toward him. “Why do you care so much anyway?”

  Jake stopped abruptly and scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. You’re about as clear as mud, and you’re unpredictable. I have no idea what to think of you.”

  His chest heaved, and he looked directly into my eyes. His gaze was charged with an electric current I could feel buzzing through me. I swallowed thickly.

  Carefully, he said, “I care about what happens to you because I care about you. I don’t want you to get killed.”

  His sincerity angered me even more. “You don’t care about me,” I snapped. “Let’s be honest, Jake. You just feel like you have to protect me because I remind you of your sister.” I couldn’t believe what I’d said; I knew it wasn’t true.

  “You know that’s not why,” he said through clenched teeth. He stepped closer, and the heat of his body wrapped around me, tempting me to lean into him.

  Instead, I timidly took a step backward. “Isn’t that why you saved me to begin with?”

  Rage filled his eyes as he again closed the distance between us. “Oh, so if I saw you getting raped and you didn’t remind me of her, you think I would’ve walked away? Give me a fucking break!” Infuriated, he turned away from me and paced back and forth. “For supposedly being able to read people’s minds or whatever, you’re really shitty at it.”

  “I already told you, I try not to. I thought—”

  “STOP IT! Tell me what’s really going on,” he demanded.

  I waivered. Everything Jake had said during the last few minutes was finally sinking in. I desperately wanted to tell him how I felt…that I cared about him too.