Kismet

by Beth D. Carter

  The rest of the gathered people help with the boat, and I gladly leave that chore for them. I start to follow after Ritchie because I’m in desperate need of a bath, when Eulalie takes hold of my hand.

  “You’ve got the vision,” she says quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t realize it had gone through the generations.”

  My eyes go wide. But before I can think of something to say, she continues. “Your great-grandfather was cursed,” she tells me. “To always see the future but never to change it.”

  “A curse,” I repeat, somewhat miffed. “Imagine that in Louisiana.”

  “Don’t mock the hoodoo.”

  “Grandma, I don’t believe in magic. I only believe in God.”

  “God is part of hoodoo, girl. We’re not practitioners, but my granddaddy upset a high priestess once. Cursed him, she did, through God.”

  I don’t know if I believe that. But I guess it doesn’t really matter at this point. “But I can change it—the future, I mean,” I remind her.

  “Maybe a woman’s instinct altered it. It’s a blessing, nonetheless.”

  “I help people. Or at least, I helped people. I guess I have a bit of a hero complex.” I try not to say that with bitterness, but I think a little seeps out.

  “You saved Layla today,” my grandmother reminds me, hugging me despite my wet, smelly clothing. “How can a hero not be a hero when you have the ability to save a little girl’s life?”

  Ah, there it is. Plain as day. She makes it sound so easy, just poof, there it is. I sigh and pull away, give her a small smile, and then turn to make the long walk back to my little cottage.

  So, I have this gift not for a reason, but because of a curse. I have always believed in God’s purpose, so what do I make of this? What do I know of curses? Some hoodoo magic placed on my great-grandfather that trickled down to me?

  Give me a fucking break.

  I enter my cottage and start disrobing, going into my little bathroom to use the gathered rainwater to wash the salty water off my skin. In the summer it rains almost every day in Louisiana, and the collected rain is used for a variety of things, including bathing.

  I wrap a towel around my body and then use another to dry my hair. I exit the bathroom and head into the living room when I sense I’m not alone.

  “Hello, Evie.”

  I jerk to a halt. Before me is Kris, larger than life, filling up my tiny cottage. He’s dressed in standard black military fatigues with holstered pistols on his belt. He’s poised, like he’s unsure or uncomfortable. My eyes drink him in; I can’t help it. All my bitterness fades like a pulled-off scab. His hair is a bit longer, his body a little leaner. My bruised heart speeds up like I’ve just stepped on the gas.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, stunned.

  “Marek sent me.”

  My mind is simply blank. I scramble to try to jump-start the neurons so I don’t continue to stand here with my mouth hanging open like a dummy wrapped in only a towel. Right. Clothing.

  “Um, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Before he can say anything else, I hurry to my tiny bedroom and dress. I don’t have much, but I grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and dress with haste.

  Kris is where I left him, standing like a marble statue. But any thoughts of him being made of stone fade when I catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes as they sweep over me.

  “I’m really glad to see you’ve healed.”

  “I had good care.” I bite my lower lip. “The hospital was great.”

  “That’s good. Good to hear.”

  God, we sound so civilized. My eyes can’t help but drink him in, but there is way too much between us for casual observance.

  “Where’s Hyde?”

  If possible, more uncomfortable silence descends.

  “The 281 has gone through some changes,” Kris says. “Noble and West have asked to be transferred permanently to the base in Helena, Montana.”

  “Why?”

  “For Kaori.” I stare at him blankly, so he elaborates. “The girl on the JumboTron.”

  “Oh! Right! Wait, they’re all together? Like, together together?”

  Kris nods. “And we’ve added a new person to the team.”

  “Oh?”

  “Shalana.”

  Again, I’m really confused. “Huh?”

  “Marek saw potential in her. Strength and leadership qualities. So he asked Hyde to train her.”

  “So Hyde and Shalana—”

  “Are partners now.”

  A volley of emotions erupt inside me at his statement. I want to throw my arms around him and hug him, but the emotions in his eyes are carefully banked. He stands somewhat aloof, apart, and he reminds me of the soldier I first met.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say.

  He raises one eyebrow. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

  I cross my arms. “You lost your partner.”

  “I didn’t lose him. I know where he is.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” He shrugs one shoulder in an “oh well” gesture.

  I sigh. “Kris, it’s okay to feel angry. To feel betrayed. What I did, what Hyde did…”

  “Enough about Hyde!” He suddenly starts pacing in the small room, clearly agitated, his calm, detached demeanor disappearing in a blink. “This is not about him! Marek told me to escort you back.” He marches up to me and takes hold of my arms. His dark eyes reflect his mood, brittle chips of onyx. “When the fuck did you join the military?”

  “I didn’t,” I whisper.

  “You didn’t?”

  I shake my head. “At least, not yet.”

  He stiffens, and his hands feel like steel bands around my arms. “Why are you here, Evie?”

  “Marek sent me here to recuperate. He found my mother’s family and told me to come here for a month, before asking me to join the 281 as a special consultant. He thinks my visions will help.”

  “A consultant. To travel around with us all the time. Are you going to join?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  “Why are you so quick to jump into the danger again?” he lashes out. “You almost died, Evie!”

  My head snaps back, and now my anger is rising quickly. “Yeah, that’s something that I won’t ever forget!”

  I yank out of his hold to lift my shirt up and show the puckered red scar above my right breast. I’m not even mindful that I forgot to put a bra on and am showing Kris all my assets.

  But all my anger vanishes in a tide at seeing the devastation on his face. He reaches up with trembling fingers to trace the still slightly swollen area that extends across the top of my breast and runs through the areola. It’s not a large scar by any means, maybe about three inches long. And about four inches from that, along the side of my ribs, is another minor scar where the chest tube had been.

  The doctors had made the small incision on my breast to remove the bullet. I was lucky it didn’t fragment. Hell, I’m lucky any way you slice it. But I see the emotions that Kris can’t conceal: anger, hurt, sorrow, but mainly, guilt. My breath catches.

  “Kris.” I reach up to touch his face, but he yanks back from me.

  “Damn you,” he mutters. “I don’t want you around that type of danger!”

  It takes me a moment to realize that Kris has his arms around me again, but when it does, I suddenly stop thinking with my brain and start thinking with my heart. I slip my hand around Kris’s neck and pull his lips down onto mine.

  It’s like starting a wildfire.

  He growls, a primitive, sexual acknowledgment of our need for each other. His tongue snakes out to capture mine, finding its own rhythm. I take and give back, demanding, urging him on. He picks me up in his arms to bring me on equal height, still kissing me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He walks into the bedroom and kicks the door shut.

  I untangle my legs and slither down his body to stand. Kris tak
es my shirt off and proceeds to kiss down my neck, my torso, sucking first the left nipple into his mouth before tracing a line with his mouth over to my right. First he traces the scar, worshipping it before sucking gently on the nipple.

  This is a Kris I’ve never encountered before, a seductive, playful man who takes his time down my body. There’s not an inch of skin he doesn’t lick or kiss. My jeans disappear; his clothes disappear. And before I realize it, I am on my back on the bed, and he is kneeling between my thighs.

  My body arches as his tongue swipes up and down my slit, the expert rendering making me wonder how the hell he learned to do that in such a delicious way. He teased the outer lips, pulling them in and sucking just so. Sensitizing them. I squirm, begging for him to suck my clit, but all I feel is his smile as he continues to torture me. I know, just as soon as he takes me fully, I’m going to have one motherfucker of an orgasm. How have I survived without this, without him?

  I let my thighs fall open as far as they can go, surrendering myself fully, giving myself over to him completely. And just as I do this, Kris clamps down on my clit, gently pulling the little nerve nexus between his teeth. I yowl and almost come off the bed, and would have clamped my thighs around Kris’s head if he hadn’t been holding my legs open. My climax pours out of me, making me weep in joy, and my body shakes in anticipation of what’s to come.

  And then he’s moving up me, scraping his clothing against my tender skin. I move restlessly, urging him on, tugging impatiently at his shirt. He pushes back to undress, and I watch him through narrow eyes. I pant, salivating, as his shirt goes flying, followed by a slow striptease of his boots and pants.

  When he’s gloriously naked, I reach for him, and he falls onto me. My poor bed rattles from the impact. I’m impatient, demanding.

  “Fuck me,” I order.

  He holds me down, taking my wrists in his hands and holding them above my head. He rises above me and poises his cock at my entrance, teasing, going in only so far and then pulling out. He does this several times until I scream in frustration, and then, finally, he pushes into me with a hard thrust, burying to the hilt.

  We pause for a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. He’s so large, and I feel so tiny. He trembles in my arms, alerting me that though he may seem in control, he’s feeling just as swept away as I am.

  And then he starts thrusting, rough and hard, just the way I need. The way I like. I can’t hold back my moans, my screams, enjoying every pound he gives my neglected body.

  The moment is too much for both of us. I can’t hold back, and I suspect he’s waiting for me, impatiently, so I give in to the climax that rides under my skin, yanking his head toward mine and enveloping his mouth in a searing kiss just as I explode. I come so hard my body begins to shake, which is all the encouragement he needs. With one final thrust into my body, he groans into my mouth, and I can feel his cock jerking in me.

  He collapses onto me, sweaty, magnificent, and I hold him tightly. I need him so much.

  * * *

  “Kris, can I ask you a question? Um, about that woman.”

  The room is completely dark. The various sounds of the night creatures chirp, and I can hear them through the open window. I lie on top of Kris and his feet hang off the end. We are naked, our bodies long since cooled off from our lovemaking.

  I feel him tense beneath me. For a moment I’m not sure if he’s going to answer or not.

  “What do you want to know about her?” he asks. His tone is bland, revealing none of his emotions.

  “Did she ever…force you?”

  His big body shudders. “If you mean was I ever inside her, then the answer is no,” he answers quietly. “But she forced me to do other things. Things I hated.”

  And I knew that he’d never talk about it, he’d never spell it out in black-and-white, and truthfully I’m relieved. I don’t think I could stomach hearing all the things that bitch did to him.

  “Did you ever tell your father?”

  “No. I eventually grew too big for her. She was the type of person who liked only small boys, and once I got my growth spurt around twelve or thirteen, she didn’t want anything to do with me. My father was too far in a bottle to know anything.”

  “I can’t believe no one helped you.”

  “No one knew, Evie. You’re the first person I ever told.”

  And I had to go and blab to Hyde. But I wouldn’t think about that right then. “What happened to her?”

  “She moved away. I hope the virus got her. She was a parental figure, an authority figure, and she abused the trust I had in her.”

  I push myself up from his chest to look down at him in surprise.

  “It’s amazing what you pick up from the psychology books,” he tells me as he pushes me back down.

  “Did you ever think I was like her? In the beginning, I mean.”

  “You were pretty forceful,” he teases. “But no, Evie. I never thought you were remotely like her. I never wanted her touch, whereas you, I couldn’t get enough of you.”

  “What happened to my stoic warrior?”

  I can feel his smile on the top of my head. “I’ve been doing a lot of talking—to Hyde, to a counselor. I’d never done that before. It’s been…nice.”

  “Nice? I didn’t know you knew that word, Kristian Seek. You’re ruining your whole bad-boy image, you know.”

  “Brat.” He ruffles my hair. “I consider myself enhancing.”

  “You enhance any more, and you won’t be able to fit.” I flex my hips.

  “Mmm,” he says as he grabs my hips and pulls my lower body firmly into his growing hardness. “I dare say you can handle it. You’re a strong woman.”

  All the happiness from a moment ago seeps out of me. A strong woman? No, I’m not. I always thought I was, but these past three months have taught me I need more than myself to rely on. Once, I thought I could handle everything. All the burdens of the world balanced evenly upon my shoulders. But I’m not Atlas. I broke and I crumbled when I stood alone.

  “There’s a lot between us,” I finally say, easing myself up off of Kris and sitting next to him. “Sometimes I feel like Los Angeles was a dream, both terrible and wonderful. I wonder how I survived so much, found you, yet let it slip through my fingers.”

  Kris picks up my hand and entwines our fingers together. “We’re here now.”

  “So we are. And I don’t every want to lose you again.”

  “Is that why you told Marek you’d join the 281?”

  “Partly. Also because I still want to help people.” I take a deep breath. Okay, time to get the hard part out of the way. “Kris, about me and Hyde. I don’t know why I did what I did. When I think about that moment, I—”

  “I know why,” he interrupts.

  I blink and wait for him to elaborate.

  “You said you dreamed of me and Hyde,” he continues. “Ever since we were young, so how could you possibly know which one of us was the one you’d love?”

  “You make it sound so logical.”

  “Logical maybe, but I was fucking furious when you told me. After I calmed down, I started to think rationally about it. I realized if you hadn’t…explored…with Hyde, then later on you might come to doubt your feelings for me.”

  “You’ve certainly thought things through.”

  “I’ve always lived better inside my head.”

  I push him back down and bring my knees in on either side of his waist. I can feel his cock harden to life. “Why not live better inside of me?”

  We didn’t talk again for a long time.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My dreams are full with laughter and warmth. By my side is Kris, and we walk hand in hand through the lush green of my home state. The image is so real that I awake with the smell of the rich deep earth in my nostrils and a smile on my lips. I am alone in the bed, so I rise and don a robe before searching him out.

  My living room is empty, as is my bathroom. I use the stored water to
wash, dressing in cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. I currently have my frizzy hair in a ponytail, but little broken strands curl around my face. I leave the cabin and pause outside to see if I can get a sense of where I should look. There are voices coming from where the gardens are located, so I head in that direction.

  The morning is already drenched with humidity, and before I even walk ten feet, sweat is running down my neck to collect in my cleavage. The gardens are located not too far away from the settlement, in an area rich with the dregs of the bayou runoff. Storms cause the marshy lake outlets to swell, leaving behind the rich soil underneath. Vegetables love the nutrient-dense dirt and grow exceptionally large and plentiful.

  I find Kris working side by side with the few habitants of Bonne Nuit, most of who happen to be my distant relatives. Daphne, my cousin once removed, and the only virus survivor from her branch of the family tree, stares at Kris like he’s a cool drink of water.

  Shirt off, tan skin gleaming with sweat, he has a hoe and uses it like nobody’s business. I know what it’s like to till the dirt. The work is dirty, tiresome, menial, and backbreaking. To say I’m shocked is a misnomer. Astounded. Slack-jawed. A fly buzzes around me, reminding me to shut my mouth. I grab a filled canteen and head over to him, giving Daphne the finger as I walk by her.

  Bitch better not a lay a hand on my man.

  “What are you doing?” I ask Kris in a quiet voice as I approach.

  He stops his work and leans against the top of the hoe to take a long drink from the canteen.

  “I thought that was obvious,” Kris replies, waving a hand around.

  “No, I mean why are you working?”

  “I figure if I’m going to live here for a few weeks, then I need to pull my own weight.”

  “A few weeks?”

  “I figure it’s going to take me that long to talk you out of this stupid notion of joining the 281.”

  The thunder rumbling over our heads drowns out my furious outrage. I look into the sky that is rapidly clouding over. The threat of rain hangs heavy in the air, typical of Louisiana summers. I always say if the day ends in y, a downpour is in the forecast.