Jason exchanged a look with Jake, then with Grayson. He was smiling.
“Petaluma sounds perfect,” Grayson said.
“Wonderful.” Bethany scanned each of us again. “And are there enough of you to run this new settlement, or do we need to provide additional workers?”
Grayson shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. There are plenty of us, and we have more people waiting back in Tahoe who are hoping to join us eventually.”
Bethany looked at Carlos. “These are the others who were controlled by that woman?”
Carlos nodded.
“I see.” After a long moment, Bethany addressed the rest of the Council. “I propose that we move forward on the satellite settlement with Daniel and his people.”
“I second,” the woman on her right said.
Bethany nodded to her. “Any opposed?” she asked the rest of the Council.
Absolute silence filled the room.
“Motion passed.” Bethany looked at Lance, who started writing furiously. “Let the record show that in exchange for…”
I tuned out Bethany’s words as I realized that this was really happening. For the first time in a long time, we might actually have a place that was ours…a place we belonged. I almost couldn’t believe how perfectly everything was falling into place.
It was almost too perfect.
27
JAKE
MAY 24, 1AE
Bodega Bay, California
Gabe, Becca, and Grayson chatted intently with Bethany as they left the conference room and headed toward the reception. Carlos and Dani trailed out behind them, animated and smiling with hope illuminating their eyes. Jake and Jason brought up the rear, already planning what sort of projects they could start when they arrived at their new settlement and discussing who would be best suited to do what.
“It would be great to have a shop where we can tear apart any old machines and repurpose the parts,” Jason said. “I have so many ideas. I could keep you busy for months.” He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “There’s going to be so much to do…I can see it already.” When he glanced over his shoulder, he paused, and Jake followed suit.
Zoe still sat at the conference table, her gaze fixed on the sketched aerial map of New Bodega that covered the expanse of the wall behind the Council’s table.
Jake turned to Jason. “We’ll meet you up there.”
Jason nodded, his features drawn in what Jake assumed was concern for his sister, but then he disappeared into the hallway.
Scanning the room, Jake realized that he and Zoe were the only two left.
Although he wasn’t certain, he could imagine what was bothering her. Zoe was home, the place that for her held the most memories, the most secrets, and therefore the most heartache. While Jake found hope and comfort in the idea of having a home and the endless possibilities that accompanied starting over, Zoe might not share his sentiments, especially not when their new home would be so close to the one she so desperately wanted to leave behind.
Knowing her well enough to assume she needed a moment to collect her thoughts, Jake resisted the urge to reach out to comfort her. Instead, he did one of the things he was best at: he sat down and waited as she processed what she was feeling.
When the sun began to set, darkening the room, and the muffled voices coming from upstairs were all that filled the silence, Zoe finally faced him. Her eyes were burning with more emotion than he’d seen in them since his Zoe had come back to him a couple weeks ago.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” she said quietly. “I thought I could—I mean, I wanted to—but…so close…?”
Jake turned to face her, needing Zoe to feel his resolve to stay, to see why he wanted this to work, for them. “It’s a place to call home, Zoe.”
“I just—” She lifted her shoulders, still shaking her head despondently. “It was home, Jake, but being here….the dreams are already worse. What happens if I stay?” She rose from her chair and began pacing. “What if I can’t get over it? What if I lose myself like my dad did? You don’t know what he was like.” She continued to pace. “He was surrounded by memories, and it ruined him. I don’t think I could handle it…”
Jake rose and closed the distance between them, reaching for her hand. “But the difference is you’re not alone here,” he said. “You have all of us…you have Jason and me and Dani.”
Zoe seemed to calm momentarily, before her shimmering, turquoise-colored eyes widened with fear. “What if the General finds out we’re alive, especially now that my mom knows? What if he comes looking for us? We’re sitting ducks if we stay here. It’ll be the first place he looks.”
“We’re not sitting ducks. Look at how far we’ve gotten, at what we can do now.” He squeezed her hand in his. “You alone would know if he was coming a mile away.” Indecision clouded her eyes, but Jake continued. “Zoe, I would never let anything happen to you, you know that. I would die a thousand times—”
She stiffened. “Why do you always have to do that?” Her voice was a hard whisper. For the first time—with her eyes so radiant, so piercing—Jake thought he saw the real Zoe, angry and unrepentant, with unbridled loyalty and determination that drove her to desperation. “Why do you always have to be the guy who saves everyone—saves me?”
He hadn’t expected that reaction, but then again, he thought he probably should have. “You’re upset with me because I want to protect you?”
With a quick, despondent exhale, Zoe closed her eyes and licked her lips before her palm gently cupped the side of his face. “Of course not.” She said it so quietly that he barely heard her. “But do you think it’s easy to watch you suffer?” she asked. “Burned beyond recognition or shot in the chest or stabbed in the back or so weak after a transfusion you can barely stand? Is it knowing you’ll eventually heal supposed to make it easier?” She pulled away from him, a despairing sadness threading her words. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch that, to know you’d do anything for me? To see you so close to death that I can feel the abyss nearly swallowing you, the life draining from you, until you’re almost nothing?”
Jake reached for her as a tear, too stubborn to be held at bay, slid down her cheek.
He hadn’t ever thought of it that way. He tried to imagine lying at Zoe’s bedside after she’d been shot and left for dead. He remembered the sting of misery he’d felt when Clara had poisoned her, when they’d all thought she was dead. He never wanted to relive that moment again.
“Your regeneration doesn’t make it easier, Jake, it makes it worse. Every single time you get hurt, I ask myself, ‘Is this finally it? Will I lose him forever? How will I be able to live with myself?’” She shook her head, and he could barely stand the hurt that made her voice hollow and distant. “I can’t do that. I can’t keep losing people—”
Her voice caught, and without hesitation, Jake wrapped his arms around her. “You’re not going to lose me, Zoe.”
Her head shook against his chest. “This place is cursed,” she said. Slowly, Zoe wrapped her arms around him, clutching the back of his thermal shirt so tightly he thought she might never let go of him.
“I know it’s hard to look beyond the past,” he said, his cheek resting against her forehead. “But how can staying in a place that gives everyone so much hope be a bad decision? This will be good for us.” Jake wanted her to see their future the way he did, to have something to look forward to instead of constantly being chased by what was behind them. “Now we can make this place our home,” he added. “We can have our own memories…don’t you want to live your own damn life?” His voice was soft and beseeching.
As if she finally felt his desperation, she said, “Of course I do.”
Jake pulled her away from him and gazed down at her. “Then let’s do this. You have your family now, your real family—that’s what you’ve been waiting for. This is your second chance…our chance.” He searched her eyes, the eyes he’d relied on to tell him what she
wouldn’t. He wanted everything they’d gone through to be worth something. He brushed the longer strands of hair behind her ear and dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. “I want you to smile because you’re actually happy.” He quirked the corner of his mouth up. “As obnoxious as it is sometimes, I want that determined glint in your eye back, your feistiness back…”
Zoe quickly glanced down, looking bashful, before gazing back up at him through her lashes.
“I love you, Zoe.” Jake let his words, his heart, linger in the inch between them. “I want you to be able to start over…with me.”
Licking her lips again, Zoe nodded, her eyes open wide and gleaming. “I love you, too,” she said, and rose to tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay.”
28
ZOE
MAY 25, 1AE
Bodega Bay, California
The sound of a low, rumbling voice woke me from yet another haunting dream about my mom, and my eyes flew open. There was a featherlight pressure against the right side of my face. I stared up at the stars through the netted top of the tent, trying to steady my breath.
“Are you alright?” Jake asked.
As my desperation and fear subsided, I let out a deep breath. “Did I wake anyone?” I whispered, turning my head to look at him.
“It doesn’t matter.” It was his nice way of saying probably. He pulled me into his arms, somehow knowing it was exactly what I needed.
“You’re becoming a pro at this,” I tried to joke, but Jake said nothing. He simply stroked my exposed arm with his thumb, and I rested my head on his chest.
“Why is this happening?” I whispered. “I have the answers I wanted…I know the truth, but the dreams just keep changing. Why won’t they go away?”
“Honestly,” Jake said, “it’s probably a test for me.”
“Really? How so?” I craned my neck to look up at his shadowed profile, barely able to see the hint of a smile.
“Because every night you have your dreams, I get to pull you into my arms and hold you as close as I ever really get to, until you fall asleep.”
I smiled. “And that’s a test because…”
“My self-control is diminishing.”
I could only chuckle softly. “You’re trying to distract me…”
“Is it working?” He smiled against my ear.
Laughing, I tightened my hold around him, unsure what the hell I would do if he weren’t there to comfort me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“For?”
I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed down at the contours of his face. “For your patience…for always knowing what to do and what to say to make me feel better…for being you.” I leaned down to press a light kiss to his lips.
Jake reached his hand behind my head, his thumb gently brushing the side of my face as he kissed me a little deeper. Feeling the space between us charge to nearly unbearable levels, I knew what was to come. Us. Together. Our first time making love since my memory had returned.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that, like last time, he was holding me after a dream. But this time, it was different. I was the Zoe he wanted, the one who occupied his thoughts. And knowing that made me want him all the more. I wanted his strength and love and protection to fill every fiber of my being, to fill up the emptiness that lingered in the days since my memories had returned. We were finally…right.
I kissed him deeper still.
“Zoe.” The mere sound of him saying my name made my heart swell to near bursting. He pressed his lips against mine, giving me a slow, savoring kiss so intoxicating I thought I might die from withdrawal if he ever stopped.
Jake’s warm hand found its way under the hem of my t-shirt, his fingers light as they trailed up my back. His body was hot, but mine was near burning. I needed air…needed to be rid of the confines of my clothes. I pulled my shirt over my head, flinging it into the corner of the tent.
“That was easier than I thought,” he muttered, and I could feel the heat of his gaze as it raked over my body.
“Easy? So you planned this?” Jake shrugged, and I leaned into him, my lips brushing against his ear as I said, “You’d better be careful…or I’ll have to punish you…”
“Punish me?” I could picture his broad grin curving his lips into a delectable smile. “You don’t have it in you.”
“No? Well, a lot’s changed in the last month, and I have you right where I want you…”
Jake leaned his head back as much as his pillow would allow and let out a deep laugh. His chest rumbled, and I could feel the column of his throat move up and down as I pressed my lips against it.
“That was a bad move,” I informed him. I nestled my face in the crook of his neck, lightly dragging the tip of my tongue against the scruffy, sensitive skin beneath his jaw. He smelled of leather and tasted of salt.
Groaning, Jake gripped my hips.
I tried to stifle a laugh as I straightened. “See what happens when you don’t take me seriously?”
His hands splayed against my back, urging me back down to him. The moment his mouth, his tongue, found my collarbone and then the base of my throat, my eyes closed, and I let out a strangled whimper. He kissed an invisible line down to each of my breasts, each graze of his lips leaving behind an excruciatingly blissful throb that spiraled downward, making me desperate to cry out.
His grip on my torso tightened, and he rolled me over onto my back. I lost myself in a laugh of pure elation and to an overwhelming desire for more. I craved it. Needed it. I wasn’t sure I could live another moment without it. Without him.
Fleetingly, I thought of the others, of the quietness that surrounded us, but then I realized my pants were gone, replaced by his hot, solid body on top of mine. By his insistent hands. By his devouring lips. And all else was completely forgotten.
~~~~~
After taking Shadow for a long stroll around the ranch, trying to come to terms with our decision to stay so close to home, I opened the pasture gate and led him through to graze with the other content horses. Unhooking his halter, I draped it over my shoulder.
“Thanks for being such a good boy,” I said softly and brushed his scraggly, black forelock from his eyes. I would’ve trimmed it for him, but according to Dani, he preferred that I didn’t. I gave Shadow’s nose a gentle stroke with the back of my curled finger and patted the side of neck before pushing him away. He ambled toward Arrow and Brutus, gave them a little nicker, and lowered his head to the ground for a late morning snack.
It was our last day at Riders’ Ranch, and I figured the horses might as well enjoy their final meal in the lush pasture before we headed for our new home in Petaluma. We’d never seen the farm, and aside from knowing it was big enough for all of us, we didn’t really know what to expect.
Leaving the horses to their grazing, I walked back to the gate and closed it behind me.
Squeaking hinges and a hollow bang startled me, and I craned my neck in time to see Sarah storm out of the ranch house, wobble down the steps, and lumber around the side of the house and behind the shed as fast as her legs would carry her.
I waited for Biggs to run out after her, but instead, it was Mase who came to the screen door. He filled the wooden frame completely and peeked his head outside, a mixture of trepidation and fear twisting his features as he scanned the yard around the house. When he saw me standing in front of the pasture gate a couple dozen yards away, he shrugged.
Muffled sobbing and screaming reclaimed my attention, and I looked back over at the shed. Sarah walked a few steps away from it, her arms flailing emphatically, and she turned and disappeared behind the shed once more.
I gave Mase what I hoped was a reassuring nod then sprinted toward Sarah, more than a little concerned.
As I drew closer, I could barely make out what she was shrieking. “…not even real. It’s not even real…” Coming up alongside the shed, I stopped, horrified by the images that were filling my head, by the feelings that were
fogging my mind.
Sarah, scrawny and homeless with tattered clothes and more-wild-than-usual hair, walked into a cramped, nondescript building, where a man in a white lab coat stood with a clipboard in hand. Holding it out to her, the man pointed to the top paper. Sarah nodded, biting her lower lip as her eyes scoured the document. With a heavy exhale, she signed the bottom of the sheet, and the man smiled.
Like her memories were resurfacing from a long-buried past, another image emerged.
Sarah woke up in a hospital bed, IVs in her arms, tubes in her mouth, and electrodes attached to her head.
Stepping around the corner of the shed, my mind spinning, I watched her.
She was completely oblivious to my presence until she turned around again, stopping after taking a few awkward steps in my direction. Her eyes narrowed, then widened, and I could feel her inner battle—see her different selves fighting for space in her mind. It was like I was observing someone with multiple personality disorder carrying out several conversations with herself. Two images of Sarah flickered to life in my mind’s eye, two different versions of her, screaming at each other about who was real, who was right…who should be in charge of her.
Sarah, strong and formidable, stood in the library of a grand home—what I’d thought was her grand home. She looked like a completely different person, a determined, almost angry glare pinching her features. Her curly brown hair was pulled back into a tight knot atop her head, her clothes were black and form-fitting, and a handgun was gripped in her fingers.
“There were no family photos,” I said, remembering the walls adorned with original artwork, but nothing personal, no portraits of her wealthy parents or candid images from her childhood. We’d never even found her parents.
Sarah watched as men in fatigues removed a handful of bloodied bodies from the house, and a team of people hustled around her, removing photos and certificates from the walls, scouring through the hundreds of books lining the shelves, and tossing trophies into oversized garbage bags.
Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) Page 35