Before the End (Beyond Series Ultimate Glom Edition)

by Kit Rocha

  "I lived in Three for a while, way back before Wilson Trent took over." The early days, not long after the bombing that had crippled the sector. "I got the hell out as fast as I could."

  "God." Noelle shivered and leaned against the dresser. "She breaks my heart, Lex. I caught her looking at a couple of the books Jas got me and offered to lend her one, but I don't know if she can even read. No one's ever taught or given her anything. Maybe I wasn't loved, but at least I was fed and educated."

  "Shh." Lex caught a lock of Noelle's hair, wrapped it around her finger, and rubbed it soothingly against the other woman's cheek. "That's why Dallas brought her here. What we'll do for her."

  Noelle leaned into Lex's hand with a shaky sigh. "That's what I was saying before, about asking forgiveness. I made Jasper let me into the closet where Dallas stores all the tech. He has a ton of broken tablets in there, and I think I can get one working. If it reads the books to her, maybe she can follow along and learn without feeling self-conscious."

  "It'll be fine. And if he gives you shit about it, you send him to me, okay?"

  "All right." Noelle dropped a kiss to the inside of Lex's wrist before straightening. "Honestly, I think I make her nervous. After the first day, I let Rachel handle her and left her alone. But this is something I can do to help." Her lips twisted wryly. "And I kind of like it. Is that crazy?"

  Even Lex's eyes were burning from the dust, and she was used to far less immaculate surroundings than Noelle. "You like helping, or digging around in this junk?"

  "It's not all junk." Wiggling between a desk and a dresser, Noelle laid her hand on an intricately carved headboard, the one piece in the immediate area that Lex would have picked out as extremely valuable--under the dirt. "They're so scornful of anything pre-Flare in Eden, but some of this stuff is just breathtaking. It's from a time when things didn't have to be purely functional. They could be art, too."

  "Plenty of artisans left in the sectors," Lex observed. "If there's something you want, take it. If you can't find it, Dallas will get it."

  Noelle stroked the high post on the headboard, her gaze wistful. "But isn't it a little sad for so many beautiful things to be tossed on top of one another in here? Why does Dallas keep them?"

  Because his mother would have kicked his ass for being wasteful, for not clinging to every single resource that came his way--just in case. "Because he might need them someday. If we can't use it ourselves, maybe we can barter with someone who wants it. All this dusty shit is currency."

  Nodding thoughtfully, Noelle turned to survey the room. But her gaze was unfocused, and her next words were a whisper. "I'm almost afraid to ask how you really are. You seem happy...but you went back to Two. Was it hard?"

  Lex tensed, afraid of the answer that would come if she didn't force herself to choose her words carefully. "It sucked, and I never want to do it again. But I'll have to. It's part of the deal."

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  Honestly, she'd rather chew glass. But this was Noelle, who cared so much. "I saw my sister. She's happy--I think. I don't know."

  Noelle finally turned to look at her, and she saw a hint of understanding there. "It's hard to imagine people you care about being happy in a place that was killing your soul."

  "Shit, it wouldn't even be a thing, except..." Lex ran her finger around the fluted edge of a delicate, dusty vase. "How can you tell what's real in a place like that?"

  "I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe nothing is. But that's what the people in Eden say about the sectors."

  "Yeah."

  Noelle smiled faintly. "Everyone in Two can't be horrible, can they?"

  Lex could still see the way Avery's patron had stroked her hair, the protective way he'd tried to edge between her and the possibility of pain. "No. And there are shitty people here in Four. The real question is whether it's the assholes who are in charge, right?"

  Noelle pressed herself against Lex's back and wrapped both arms around her waist in a firm hug. "There's an asshole in charge here, but since the woman sleeping with him has been daydreaming about him all morning, I've decided to forgive him."

  Lex's cheeks heated in a fierce blush. "Fuck you."

  "Right here, in all the dust?" Noelle's chuckle tickled Lex's neck. "No, thank you. Maybe later, so the boys can watch and be jealous."

  Lex turned to face her. "Dallas is...Dallas. Even when he's being insufferable, he's still one of the best people I've ever met. You'd have to be an idiot not to love him at least a little."

  "I could love him a little," Noelle agreed. "But I love you more, so I reserve the right to be pissed off at him whenever he upsets you." She made a face. "And to get in screaming fights with Jasper about it, too."

  The thought of her getting defensive on Lex's behalf was as adorable as it was unnecessary. "Don't--for Jasper's sake. He'd never get any peace. That's just me and Dallas. Damn near how we've always been."

  "So he says," she murmured as her cheeks turned pink. "And don't underestimate him. Jasper can get his own peace when he wants it."

  So that's how it was. "Well, then. Feel free to fight with him. Just be sure and invite us next time."

  Pink brightened damn near to scarlet as Noelle laughed. "Stop teasing. And stop giving me ideas, or maybe I'll reconsider all the dust."

  "No, you won't, because we're on a mission." Lex dragged a length of canvas off a square shape. "She'll need a nightstand. And someplace to keep her clothes."

  "And a desk." Noelle pivoted back toward the headboard they'd unearthed. "Maybe a couch and a couple of chairs. And a nice bed. Or is that too fancy? Will she think we're trying to force her to owe us a favor?"

  "Probably not." As far as Six was concerned, they could force her to do anything they wanted, anytime--and favors likely weren't high on the list of what she expected them to demand. "But it could embarrass her."

  "Okay. Nice quality, but understated." She pointed to a solid mahogany dresser built in plain, clean lines. "Stuff like that, maybe?"

  "Perfect."

  Noelle grinned and started moving dusty cushions off the piece. "So here's the real question. I bet you and I could move all the furniture on our own...but I do so love watching Jasper lift heavy things. Is that wrong?"

  You've created a monster. Dallas's voice, amused and a little hungry, but Lex could hear it like he was standing right beside her.

  Noelle had taken to life in Sector Four fast, and it would break her heart to realize the truth about Six. The girl had a hard road ahead of her, assuming she ever learned to trust any of them. "Better idea. We'll have Jas and Bren do the work, and we'll drag Six along to watch with us."

  Maybe she had created a monster, because Noelle arched both brows. "No Dallas?"

  As if Lex needed the show--or the reminder of what he did to her concentration and self-control. She bumped Noelle's hip with her own. "You're bad. If you want to hear filthy details, all you have to do is ask."

  "I always want to hear the filthy details. How else am I supposed to get ideas?"

  "You could take him for a ride yourself." Lex mimicked her raised brows and innocent look. "Dallas and Jasper have been known to tag team on occasion."

  "Tag team..." Her eyes went even wider. "You mean like Mad and Ace at that party the night before the blackout? Like, both at the same time?"

  "Something like that." Judging by her expression, she was trying to imagine it--hard.

  After a long moment of consideration that prompted another adorable blush, Noelle wet her lips. Her imagination had expanded, but Lex could still tell when she was struggling to force her vocabulary to keep up. "Maybe they should both fuck you first so I can watch and decide if it's too much for me." She grinned suddenly. "Or just watch."

  "Yeah, good luck sneaking that one past Dallas," Lex muttered, then explained, "He's in possessive-caveman mode at the moment."

  Noelle hesitated. "Is that bad? I can't tell if you think that's bad."

  Because she hadn't deci
ded herself yet. "Here's the thing about men, honey. Sometimes, they're at their most possessive when they think you might walk. But let 'em settle down a while, they loosen that grip, and everyone's happy. Does that make sense?"

  "Maybe. I think Jasper would let another guy touch me, but I don't think that makes him less possessive. It's not about sharing. It's just about getting me off. He'll use whips, cuffs, toys...Ace." Her sudden smile was lazily content and faraway. "He'll do anything if he thinks I want it."

  Now who was daydreaming? "Yeah, okay. Eyes on the prize, sunshine. You may love the musty smell of all this dirty old shit, but I'm starting to itch."

  "You can go," Noelle said quickly, waving her hand toward the dresser. "I can find stuff that matches that and round up Bren and Jas, now that I know what I'm looking for."

  "I'd rather help." It would keep her mind off fucking Dallas O'Kane.

  Literally.

  Six

  It wasn't until they were standing across from each other, seconds from throwing their first punches, that Six realized she'd missed Bren.

  She'd expected to miss things about him. The security he represented, for starters, both physical and mental. Bren had never been gentle with her, not from that first moment, when he'd wrestled her into submission and shoved a gag between her teeth at Dallas's orders. But he hadn't been rough, either, just been blandly impersonal and efficient. The honesty in that detached competence had soothed her in a way none of Dallas's soft-spoken promises of safety ever could.

  She'd expected to miss the way men averted their eyes when she tagged along behind Bren. She'd expected to miss knowing that he'd be a silent wall between her and the rest of the gang, with their curious eyes and their friendly, puppy-dog eagerness. She'd even expected to miss these sessions, the chance to burn through her lingering rage and learn at the same time.

  She hadn't expected this weird, tight feeling in her chest, and how much worse it got when he smiled.

  Hell, she'd missed him. A lot.

  One of those smiles curved his lips now. "You're pulling your punches. Afraid you're going to mess up my pretty face?"

  He didn't have a pretty face, not like some of the men. Mad and Ace and even Dallas, when he wasn't scowling. Bren's face was rough, all flat, hard lines and crooked angles, like a dozen bar fights had already tried to mess it up but had only made it more appealing.

  Appealing. Fuck, she was obsessing over his crooked nose like some soft city idiot. Six tried to summon her usual glower, but it felt wrong, because the corners of her mouth kept fighting to pull up. "Someone beat me to it."

  "Pun intended?" He lunged then, grabbing her hand and spinning in an attempt to twist her arm up behind her back. Pivoting with him, she attempted to break his grip by rotating her wrist, but he knew how to press close and kill the leverage she needed. So she kept going, twirling in a dizzy circle as she shifted her balance and freed up one heel to drive toward his ankle.

  He caught her leg with his other arm, hooking his elbow under her knee and pulling it high. Pulling her off balance.

  Christ, he was fast. Squirming only toppled her back against his chest, and her only play there was the back of her head against his nose.

  So she took it.

  "Fuck." He released her and stumbled back, his hiss of pain turning into a laugh. "That hurt, sweetheart."

  "You should have stopped me," she chided, uncomfortable with the flutter of worry in her stomach. She turned to examine his face, but he was smiling through the thin trickle of blood trailing from one nostril.

  "I deserved it," he said simply.

  "Yeah, a little." Her skin still prickled with awareness, the heightened sense of focus that always came with a fight. She could feel his phantom warmth at her back, the memory of his chest, pressed tight against her, and she hated how much she missed that. Clenching her fingers, she buried confusion under action and lunged at him.

  Not a graceful attack, and he defended easily, spilling her to the mat beneath him. "You have to take time to think," he whispered, his lips against her ear.

  The prickling changed to tingles, and she rasped in a hoarse breath. She didn't like being under him--not when it meant she'd lost--but she didn't hate it as much as she should have. The stinging of her pride was balanced by a deeper satisfaction at his skill.

  She'd learn from Bren. She'd get better. And, in the meantime, nothing would touch her because he was magnificently dangerous.

  She had to swallow twice to make her voice sound natural. "Speed's the only advantage I have. I need to learn to think faster."

  "Couldn't hurt." He shifted his weight and rose on his knees. "But you're being hard on yourself. Fighting me isn't really fair."

  "That's why I want to do it." She missed more than some vague impression of warmth this time. She missed the solid weight of him, the feeling of being surrounded on all sides. "I need to learn."

  "And I'll teach you. You know that, right?"

  She wet her lips, unsure what he was asking. There was suddenly no safe place to rest her gaze, not with him still straddling her hips and her own disobedient body beginning to take a keen interest in his. "You are teaching me. It's helping."

  He climbed to his feet. "It's not just fighting. It's understanding when you have to, and when you don't."

  "I guess. You have weird rules here. Do any of the other women fight at all?"

  He brushed that aside with a shake of his head. "I mean who you might have to fight. You're treating all this like an immediate mission goal. Like you're in danger here." A quick nod indicated the cavernous warehouse around them. "Here on the compound."

  There was no safe answer to that. The people here were his friends, his brothers. For all the wary respect in their eyes when they watched him, there was also affection. That was as foreign to her as the idea of women having each other's backs because of some crazy devotion to the idea of sisterhood. So she shrugged and stared at his boots. "I guess."

  He watched her intently. "Those lessons are important to learn, too."

  "I can't--" She clenched her hands until her ragged nails bit into her palms. "He told me it was safe to stop fighting."

  "Trent." There was no doubt in Bren's voice, no question.

  At least she wouldn't have to say his name. "He didn't lie, not really. It was safe to stop fighting. He just never bothered to tell me how much worse it would be when he got bored of keeping me safe."

  Bren closed both hands around hers and tugged her to her feet. "Tomorrow," he whispered. "Same time. We'll fight harder."

  No words urging her to trust, or chiding her for not being able to. Just an offer, the only one that could possibly help. Her heart lurched into her throat, and she spent an endless forever standing there, trembling with the urge to lean in. It wouldn't be hard. Just one step. Only one.

  If she did, she could steal a little more of that warmth. Maybe he'd wrap his arms around her. She'd seen him hug others, the back-slapping hugs between the men, the softer, lingering hugs for the women. His arms were thick with hard muscles and solid flesh. He'd had them around her enough times in practice, but never like this. Just two people, standing oh so close, trading warmth and comfort and the air between them.

  Her heart hammered hard enough to make the room throb with it as she eased his hands apart and stepped between his arms. He stood there for a moment, unmoving, then slid his arms around her with a low sigh.

  This was a different hug than the others she'd seen. His arms barely touched her, their strength held in reserve. He was giving her a way out, the chance to retreat, and that was what made her press forward.

  His breath stirred her hair, and he rubbed the back of her shoulder gently. "You'll be all right. Someday."

  "Someday," she echoed, surprised at her own tone. She almost sounded like she agreed with him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maybe she should have known better, but the last thing Lex expected was for Dallas to waltz right into her room without even f
ucking knocking.

  Her heart shuddered and then started to pound as he stood in the open bathroom door, his gaze tracing every bit of naked skin visible above the water of her bath. Smiling slowly, he dropped one hand to his belt and quirked an eyebrow. "Got room for one more in that tub?"

  The question might have ruined the fantasy of intrusion--if he'd meant it as a question at all. Dallas owned everything, and that ownership showed in every easy line of his body.

  The steaming water sloshed as Lex lifted one leg to rest on the edge of the tub. "We might have to get close."

  "That better be a promise." He'd already discarded his boots somewhere, and the rest of his clothing ended up in a messy pile twenty seconds later. He prowled over to sink his hand into her hair, tangling the damp strands around his fingers as he leaned down to kiss her once, hard. "Scoot forward," he said against her lips.

  He slipped into the tub behind her, driving the water level up almost to the lip of the ancient porcelain tub, and Lex leaned back against his chest. "Did you want something, O'Kane?"

  "Needed to tell you I won't be around tonight." He splayed his hand across her abdomen under the water, right over the ink spelling out his name. "Jas and I are meeting up with some guys from Three."

  "Routine shit, or is something going down?"

  "Just testing the waters. Trent had a few men who kept their heads low and seemed half reasonable. I think I can talk them into making themselves useful."

  "Ah." Lex dipped one hand under the water to stroke his leg, then raked her nails over his skin. "I wouldn't have cried myself to sleep because you weren't here to hold my hand."

  He chuckled against her ear. "No, you probably would've crawled into Noelle's bed to keep her warm. You still can, if you want, but only if you tell me everything you do to her afterwards."

  "Dirty fucker," Lex breathed. "She's been expanding her sweet little horizons lately, you know. She'd probably be on me, not the other way around."

  "Oh yeah?" Dallas gathered her hair in his free hand and twisted it aside, leaving the back of her neck vulnerable to the warmth of his breath. "No wonder Jas is so fucking smug. He doesn't have to imagine it, does he? He's been watching."