Badlands (Spent Shells, #1)

by Hunter, Bijou

  “You think I’m perfect,” he whispers and rests my hand and his where the beds meet. “I’m not, though. I fart and say dumb things and forget where I parked and lose my temper when my team doesn’t win a football match. You only see the good in me, and I don’t think you see the good in yourself. If you saw us clearly, then you’d understand why I want to wait until you’re safe.”

  “You want to know I want you for you and not because I want your help.”

  Kai reveals an amazing smile. “Exactly,” he says, sounding relieved that I understand. “It’s okay to be afraid of the future. Things have changed very quickly for you. Sex at the compound was expected. It’s not expected with me. When it happens, it’ll be about passion, not to repay a debt.”

  Silence feels right, but I force out the words. “I want to sin. When I laugh, I feel like I’m hurting the people back at the homestead. Playing with Anika feels the same way. I want to be free of them, and being close to you makes them seem far away.”

  Kai scoots up on the bed so he can lean over and kiss me without disturbing Anika. A flick of his tongue against mine creates a powerful, addictive heat through my body. If this feeling is sinful, then I’m ready to be bad.

  “I want your heart to feel as if they exist in another world,” he whispers against my lips, “but this is all we can manage for now. Leaving Anika for a quickie is wrong. For her and us. She needs to feel secure, and I need to take my time.”

  His words create a shockwave of heat in me again. I want to know what it’s like to be alone with Kai. I want him against me. It won’t be filthy like at the homestead. With Kai, sex will be beautiful because he’s beautiful, and that’s how he makes me feel.

  But tonight, we can only share a makeshift bed where we whisper about foods his mom cooks. He tells me how he often lays awake on stormy nights, listening to the rain and thunder. He hopes I’ll enjoy it as much as he does.

  Tonight, I can almost imagine us in his home in a far-off land. I see the three of us together there. Neri, too, and I picture his parents from the videos. That life seems almost real enough to touch.

  NERI

  I eventually crawl out of Cobain’s bed. He doesn’t stir, leaving me unsure if he’s awake when I retreat from his sanctuary. I’m restless back in my room. I text Papa to say I’m well and miss him. Despite the late hour, he responds immediately.

  “Leaving soon?” he texts.

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Keep your head down, keep moving, get back here. If you can’t, I’ll come for you.”

  After promising to remember everything that he taught me, I decide to take the leap on changing my look. While my hair doesn’t come out Taylor Swift blonde, I look more like my mother than I expect.

  Leaving the small guest bathroom, I’m happy to get away from the bleach fumes. In the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of apple juice and giggle at the thought of Cobain at the grocery store. Why apple juice? In the pantry, I noticed bottles of the stuff along with a lot of sugary cereals. He cooks like a chef but eats like a little kid.

  A part of me is disappointed that he applied the brakes on our fun tonight. But I’m also a little relieved. What if I get overly attached just because it’ll be my first sexual experience? I like to believe I’m not the sentimental type, but I did get emotional tonight during Anika’s meltdown.

  Plus, I chose to leave Cobain’s bed when the urge to cuddle overwhelmed me. It’s too late. I’m already attached.

  I fully commit to keeping my legs closed around him. However, I’m not particularly surprised when Cobain appears in the kitchen and sweeps me up onto the counter. His lips consume mine, demanding, desperate, fully crazed ape.

  “Why now?” I ask when I can speak again.

  “It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been with a woman. Nutty or not, I want to know your twat.”

  I think to complain about his seduction techniques, but I truly believe he hasn’t been with a woman in a “long fucking time.”

  Everything about Cobain reeks of isolation. I imagine him stalking through a grocery store—probably only once a month—and avoiding people. His life consists of him and the dog he pretends to hate.

  “Do you like my hair?” I ask when he tugs up my shirt and slides his hands underneath.

  “I don’t give a shit about your hair,” he growls.

  Pushing away his hands, I level my most impressive frown at Cobain. “You better show me a little appreciation, or I’ll shut this shit down quickly, my lonely friend.”

  Cobain seethes with rage over my demand for a single compliment. Relenting, he mumbles, “You’re the most beautiful damn woman I’ve ever seen, and I’ll spend the rest of my life comparing other women to you.”

  I smile instantly. “Very good, but we can’t do anything here. If my brother walked in on our debauchery, the heat between my legs would be extinguished immediately.”

  Cobain effortlessly carries me down the dark hallways. He doesn’t bump into anything despite having his face planted between my breasts. I wrap my arms around his head and nuzzle his thick hair as he finally returns us to his bedroom.

  I slide his long sleeve shirt over his head before returning my lips to his desperate ones. Cobain is ready to tear off my clothes when he can’t figure out a simple way to remove them. I finally have to pry his large hands from my body long enough to undress.

  “Patience,” I murmur, straddling him on the bed. Cobain shudders at the feel of my now-bare breasts against his face. “Don’t be afraid.”

  He glares up at me, but I only smile and kiss his forehead before finding his lips again.

  Cobain’s hands are all over me. Running up my back and down to my butt where he gives my flesh a squeeze. Finally, his hands settle on my breasts, where he kneads my hard nipples.

  I moan approvingly, wanting to avoid more butt-squeeze foreplay. Stimulating my nipples is definitely the winner move.

  His fingers feel coarse against my skin. Cobain’s entire manner is rough, rushed, and impersonal. I assume he’s this way with all women. When his teeth bite at my sensitive nipple, I could push him away or endure him. Instead, I tug at his hair.

  “Hurt me, and I hurt you,” I warn.

  “Maybe I like it rough.”

  “Oh, I’m certain you do, Cobain.”

  Inhaling harshly at the sound of his name, his grip on my hips softens. I follow suit with his thick hair I’m fisting.

  His hand reaches up to wrap around the back of my neck. He pulls me to him, covering my lips with his and ending our conversation. When his tongue caresses mine, I relax in his arms.

  I’m not nervous, per se. No, I’m simply practical. Is there a way to make love without giving myself over completely? Can I remain in control at all times while also submitting to pleasure?

  I feel as if the answers should be yes. I’ve always been strong. Why should I stop even for a few minutes in a darkened room with this beast of a man? I hate to give up my power.

  But Cobain doesn’t nibble around the edges of my resolve. He refuses to merely tempt me. He takes control more and more, as our bodies grow sweaty.

  Cobain consumes my power until I’m under him, legs wide open, begging to be filled. I don’t think about anything except how hot our bodies feel together. The heat erases everything else. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.

  My body welcomes him. Cobain is a large man, and the girth of him painfully stretches me. Yet I’m not afraid, and I lift my hips to take more. After years of horseback riding, surfing, and rock climbing, I have no cherry to pop. My athletic body does more than endure the delicious pain caused by this unleashed man. I meet his every thrust with a roll of my hips, keeping pace, wanting more.

  When he thrusts wildly inside my body, racing for relief, I never fear what Cobain will do to my virgin body. My only fears are for my virgin heart.

  He breaks my resolve when he holds me after our first round of pleasure. Cobain aches to conne
ct to someone, and I’m the only person willing to offer him the slightest bit of attention. I half-expect him to weep after catching his breath, but he’s too far gone for such emotions.

  His current state isn’t a symptom of being alone at the safe house for years. No, Cobain is this way for the same reason he chose to remain alone for so long. There’s something wrong with him. A wounded child taught to keep people at arm’s length. It’s why a man this handsome doesn’t have a lover. Even fucking became too much of an exercise in trust. He refused to allow anyone into his life.

  But here I am in his bed, cradled in his arms, feeling his lips at my throat, his fingers between my legs. Cobain won’t be satisfied with one fuck. After finally letting someone close, he needs more. Besides, he’s aware I won’t be around for long. Oh, yes, he plans to make tonight count.

  Even if I didn’t enjoy access to this fine, naked specimen, I’d still remain in his bed, if only to offer him something no one else has in far too long.

  ≫SEVEN SPENT SHELLS≪

  KAI

  Tomorrow, we leave the safe house and make a straight line to the closest airport. Though traveling will cause Sunny and Anika stress, I can’t provide stability for them until we’re in Nicaragua.

  Last night gave me a taste of what life will be like with a wife and child. Sleeping across from Sunny felt like a blessing I hadn’t known I was missing. Each time I opened my eyes, I smiled at the sight of them.

  Anika woke once to use the bathroom. She let me carry her as Sunny shuffled behind us half-asleep. There was trust in the child’s sleepy eyes when we returned to bed. A steady hand, patience, and love are all they need to find their way.

  The morning arrives with sleepy smiles and Anika checking her toys. Again, one of them managed to sneak off during the night. I find Doll, and we head to breakfast.

  Neri and Cobain are already in the kitchen, drinking coffee silently. I sense something’s changed. He must notice I’ve noticed because he walks outside with the no-name dog.

  “With your blonde hair, you look like Mama,” I tell Neri in English, so Sunny doesn’t feel as left out.

  My sister frowns, likely too tired to remember she bleached her hair. Soon, she smiles and wags a finger at me.

  “You’re next,” she teases.

  “No.”

  “Buzz off your lovely waves, Kai. You stand out too much.”

  Running a hand through my thick hair, I’m aware vanity is a poor reason to avoid changing my appearance, but it’s the only excuse I have.

  Sunny tentatively reaches up and allows a lock of my hair to curl around her finger. Her nervous smile awakens my gnawing lust, but then I spot bruises on Neri’s throat.

  Too busy focusing on Anika scribbling on paper, my sister doesn’t notice me watching her.

  “Duck,” the child says when Neri asks what the blue blob is.

  Sunny’s attention leaves my hair and turns to her daughter. While they coo over Anika, I worry about my sister’s injury. If Cobain injured her, she would have retaliated, but he seemed unharmed. Did she hurt herself while bleaching her hair? Is that even possible?

  Just as I arrive at the horrifying realization that the marks are hickeys, a gunshot rings out.

  My sister and I pull our weapons, while Sunny reaches for Anika. The child clearly doesn’t understand why a boom noise means danger and remains unbothered.

  Cobain storms inside the house. “A fucking drone,” he growls. “I thought I saw something on the cameras earlier. This time, the damn thing didn’t even play coy.”

  “Does that happen often?” Neri asks, walking to the window.

  Cobain blocks her, making me wonder if he believes more drones are watching. Neri frowns at him, and he frowns back.

  “People know this is a safe house. They try to see who’s here. Feds mostly, but I haven’t seen drones in a while,” he says and then exhales loudly. “You should pack up the rest of your shit in the SUV. Just in case you need to leave earlier than planned.”

  Sunny immediately instructs Anika to put her toys in her backpack. “To keep safe,” she explains when the child wants to hold them instead. “They could get lost.”

  Anika obeys, but she keeps checking inside to make sure her toys haven’t snuck away.

  “Let’s get the extra blankets and pillows in the Suburban,” I announce to Sunny and Neri. “Anything we don’t want to leave behind should be packed. If there are no problems, we’ll get them out before bed.”

  Sunny moves too fast toward the bedroom. Her haste startles Anika, who calls out for her mom.

  As my hands rest on Sunny’s shoulders, I instruct her to take a deep breath. “Stay calm and focused. Don’t panic. Okay?”

  Nodding, Sunny picks up Anika as Neri joins them.

  “We’ll get packed up,” my sister says, and Sunny mimics her calm.

  Once the women are gone, I follow Cobain as he drags down the metal window covers in the main rooms.

  “Do you think they’re coming?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s your gut say?”

  “Fuck my gut,” he growls. “I’ve been out here alone for years. My only jobs were baby shit. You can’t trust a gut that rusty.”

  As he tries to walk away, I grab his arm, which nearly inspires him to punch me.

  “This is your safe house, and you’re not an amateur. Who do you think operated the drone?”

  Cobain studies me with his dark eyes. “The cult fuckers went quiet last night. They figured out you weren’t in Salt Lake. I assumed they gave up their search. I no longer believe that.”

  “Should we go now?”

  “No. If they sent the drone, they’re watching the roads. Your best move is to hope they hit the safe house. I’ll hold them off while you escape using the back way. It’s not a road as much as a dirt path through flat land, but you can navigate it in the SUV. Most assholes don’t know the way, and their focus will be here.”

  Cobain is clearly talking about a suicide mission on his part. Though my sister’s a professional, she has feelings for this man. I already know how she’ll react to his plan.

  “If you stay behind to die, my sister will be distracted.”

  “That’s not my problem,” he mutters, hardening his stance.

  “No, it shouldn’t be, but I think it is nonetheless.”

  “What the fuck do you suggest?”

  “You hinted at a failsafe measure if the safe house was overwhelmed. Can’t you use it and flee with us?”

  “Why the fuck would I want to run?”

  “If you survive another day, you’ll get to fuck my sister again. I’d say that’s worth the effort.”

  Cobain narrows his eyes as if I’ve offended his delicate sensibilities. Then I realize he’s upset on my sister’s behalf. One day, I hope to understand how Neri got this sullen beast tied up in knots over her.

  “What else needs to be prepped if they attack?” I ask when he refuses to stop frowning as if my comment about fucking Neri has destroyed his brain.

  “The security is up. We’ll see them no matter what direction they come from on the road. But if you want to escape out the back, I’ll need to draw them inside.”

  “And then what?”

  “You leave, dumbass.”

  “No, but what happens with the failsafe?”

  “The house goes up and takes a pile of those shitheads with it.”

  “Good, but if you and the dog are coming along, we should use two vehicles.”

  “I didn’t say I was coming, and dying in an explosion would be a godsend to that old dog.”

  “Sure,” I mutter and turn to where the women return with Anika again peeking in her bag.

  “Are your toys safe?” I ask the child and pick her up. When she only nods, I whisper for her to use her words. Anika just smiles, but she doesn’t speak. She thinks I’m tricking her.

  “Is that a cow?” I ask, pointing at the duck.

  Giggling n
ow, Anika looks to her mom to see if she notices I being silly. Sunny smiles, but her eyes are wide and fearful. Nearby, Neri looks annoyed as she scoots closer to Cobain.

  “What’s the plan?” she asks him.

  “Trouble comes. You run away. Problem solved.”

  Neri gives him an odd look and then turns on her heel. “I want to check the security operation.”

  Cobain grumbles and hurries after her. At first, I figure she wants to micromanage, and he refuses to allow her to touch his setup. Then I realize she’s getting him away from an audience so she can work her magic.

  I’m glad they’re gone because I need to calm Sunny, who is about to come out of her skin. Anika is so focused on if her toys are still in the bag that she hasn’t picked up on her mother’s panic. Soon, though, they’ll both spiral.

  Wrapping my arms around her slight body barely soothes Sunny’s fears.

  “They’re coming,” she whispers in a voice filled with dread. “They’ll kill us all.”

  “When they followed us the other day, we killed four of them. If more come today, more will die.”

  As Sunny stares at me, I see her spiraling down a very dark hole.

  “Who’s died?” I ask, cupping her face and staring in her wide eyes. “Them. Always them. Kenneth and those other men that Neri shot. Then four more died thanks to Cobain, Neri, and me. If they come, more of them will die.”

  “You shouldn’t have helped me,” she says, backing away.

  For days, I’ve been waiting for Sunny to break. She was too quick to want sex and even to imitate Neri’s demeanor. It took years to break down Sunny into a slave. A few days won’t be enough to cure her and create a new person.

  I hold her against me as she tries to flee the room. Sunny has no idea where she's going. She’s in flight mode, and the destination doesn’t matter.

  “Who will die today?” I whisper in her ear as she struggles.

  Suddenly aware of the tension in the room, Anika asks, “Mama?”