by Stasia Black
Jonas, the former golden boy. Beloved preacher. All-state track star back in high school. The man who could do no wrong in the town’s eyes.
No matter how much of a fuck up he was these days.
Jonas held a joint to his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked in one last hit before stubbing it out on the side of the doorjamb and tossing it into the shrubs by the porch. Then he stumbled inside, his eyes bloodshot and his hair standing up on one side like he’d just rolled out of bed. He probably had.
Henry stood up straighter and smoothed his hands down his suit-vest. Jonas was an affront to all things civilized. How was the world ever supposed to recover if slobs like Jonas kept walking around like they were extras in some old Living Dead TV show?
“Jesus.” Henry tipped his nose up. “This is how you come to meet your future wife?”
Jonas gave a sardonic grin. “Not in the Jesus business anymore.”
Henry expelled an annoyed breath and turned back to Shay.
He finally gave himself permission to look at her. She had stood up. And hot damn. She had on a large shapeless t-shirt similar to what Sophia’s. But instead of pajama pants, she was wearing the tiniest little short shorts that exposed acres of thigh.
He forced his eyes back up to her face. He didn’t want to be caught ogling. Granted it had been a long time since he’d properly been with a woman, but he remembered enough to know that being caught staring never went over well.
The noise of feet on the stairs had Henry looking up again. It was Sophia. She was dressed for the day in jeans and a tight-fitting top that bared more than a little cleavage. She shot only the quickest glance Jonas’s way. Did she hope to find him watching? He wanted to shake his head at her. Oh Sophia.
She jerked her gaze away like she could hear his thoughts and steadily avoided looking at him or anyone else as she hurried past. “I’ll be at the Food Pantry all day. Double shift. Bye.”
Then she was out the door. But not without pausing on the threshold and shooting one last lingering glance Henry’s way.
But Henry only had eyes for Shay. Who looked awkwardly back and forth from Sophia to Henry.
“Sophia, wait,” Shay said when Sophia’s head whipped back toward the door and she all but fled.
“It’s all right. Let her go.” Henry stepped forward and put a hand on Shay’s shoulder from behind and she jumped a mile.
“Get your hands off her,” the man beside Shay growled, grabbing Henry’s wrist and jerking it back.
Dammit, that hurt. But Henry just smiled. He hadn’t gotten where he had in life by letting it show when things hurt.
“If you’re quite done,” Henry said dryly, leveling the man with a cool stare. “Kindly let go of my arm.”
The man tossed Henry’s arm back and Henry just continued smiling. “Charmed, I’m sure. And you are?”
The man glared.
Henry had met plenty of men like this one before. Big on brawn. Intellectually inferior. They liked staking their claim on things the same way dogs did. By effectively pissing circles around them.
“This is Charlie,” Shay said, stepping between them. Her eyes dropped for a moment before lifting to meet Henry’s. “And it’s Henry, is that right?”
She was utterly enchanting. Henry took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Indeed. So lovely to make your acquaintance. You have no idea how incredibly fortunate I consider myself to have been chosen as your betrothed.”
“Is this guy for real?” Charlie turned to Jonas. “Who the hell talks like that at,” his eyes searched the wall, settling on the wind-up grandfather clock, “eight-forty-five in the morning?”
“Fuck if I know,” Jonas said from where he was leaned against the wall with his eyes closed like he could catch a nap while he waited for something interesting to happen.
Henry rolled his eyes. Some people wouldn’t understand class if it came up and smacked them in the face with a can of beluga caviar.
“Should I go after Sophia?” Shay’s eyes went to the door, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. “She looked upset.”
“She’ll be all right,” Henry said. And, as much as he wanted to reach out to her again, he kept his hands to himself. She seemed a bit jumpy. Besides, all in good time.
He did step close so she could still hear him when he lowered his voice, though. “It was just a schoolgirl crush. Nothing serious.”
Shay’s eyes were still trained on the front door. “I doubt that’s the way she saw it. Her lottery is only a few months away.”
She finally turned to Henry and he felt slugged in the guts by how the morning sun made the green of her irises almost translucent. Like the finest peridot gemstone. He made a mental note. He had a line with one of the best jewelers in Texas. He wasn’t Trade Secretary for nothing. He’d talk to the man about acquiring some peridot earrings that would make those gorgeous eyes pop even more. Shay deserved to be draped with jewels.
Henry pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear and this time, while she trembled slightly, it was far from a flinch. “I’m with you now. And like you said, Sophia will have her own lottery in a few months.”
It wasn’t just a line either.
He was with Shay. As soon as his name had been announced at the lottery last night, Henry had barely been able to sit still but for thinking: finally, finally, his life was getting back on track.
A life far, far away from the grimy trailer his mother shared with her pimp when he was a boy.
After Xterminate hit, he’d been back there for a while.
Slogging through mud with a hundred other refugees fleeing the west Dallas suburbs. It was just sheer luck the fallout cloud blew northeast instead of west. There’d been no way to know that at the time, though. When it stormed the day after the bomb fell, the fleeing crowd went crazy, sure it was toxic nuclear rainout.
Men turned into animals, beating each other off for the smallest scrap of plastic tarp to try to stay dry. They killed one another so they could hide from the rain under the dead bodies.
It was Henry’s childhood all over again except a hundred times worse—and there was no closet to hide in this time.
Day in, day out, he’d had to rub shoulder to shoulder with those animals, fighting tooth and nail for resources. He thought he’d known sacrifice the first time he crawled out from the gutter to the heights of wealth. But it was nothing to the wits and sheer determination to never give up that it took to get where he was today.
Finally, finally, he was poised on the threshold of resuming the closest thing this post-Fall world had to his former wealth and success.
And Shay would be the shining jewel in his crown.
Chapter 6
SHAY
Henry was unexpected. He wasn’t big or brutal looking. And he was clean. All plusses if she was filling in pros on Sophia’s little chart.
Then again, sometimes it was the charmers who were the most dangerous. And he was handsome. He had blond hair and dark eyes. It was like a model had stepped off the pages of an old GQ magazine and into the Commander’s living room. Even though it must have already been nearing eighty degrees at nine in the morning, he was dressed like he was headed into a chic big city pre-Fall office. He was wearing a well-cut suit, complete with a vest and a shining silver tie.
Shay distrusted good-looking people on principle. She always had, starting with her mother who was too beautiful for her own good. A hundred broken promises later, Shay had still somehow been an optimist by the time she left for college.
A few days in Travisville was enough to cure the most ardent optimist though, and she’d spent eight years there. So consider the lesson officially learned.
Another knock sounded at the door and this time Charlie went to get it. He yanked it open. “Who the hell are you?”
Guess she knew his feelings on the whole situation.
She moved to look over his shoulder to see who was at the door.
“
You must be Rafael,” she said. “Hi. I’m Shay.” She pushed past a still glaring Charlie and held out her right hand to the dark-haired man standing there.
He’d had an easy grin but it dropped as he looked down at Shay’s hand and a second later she saw why.
His right shirt sleeve hung loosely from his broad shoulder. Because he was missing most of his right arm.
Oh.
She pulled her hand back, eyes flying up to his. She thought she saw a pained look flash there before a wide grin stretched his face.
“Call me Rafe. All my friends do.” He leaned in conspiratorially and gave her a wink. “Since you’re gonna be my wife, I’d say you earn the privilege.”
He reached for the hand she’d dropped back by her side with his good one and lifted it to his lips, a cocky grin on his face. “It’s great to meet ya, babe.”
His lips brushed her fingers and ridiculously, Shay felt a blush rise on her cheeks. Henry had kissed her hand when he’d introduced himself, too, but somehow the two experiences felt completely different. Henry’s gesture had seemed formal and romantic, like a courting gesture from the nineteenth century. Whereas the caress of Rafe’s lips sent a hot tingle racing down her spine.
While Rafe didn’t have Henry’s polish and wasn’t as strictly handsome as either he or Charlie, he had a rakish charm. He was maybe 5’11 with a broad chest and thick, corded muscles that were visible through his t-shirt. It was clear he kept his body in top shape in spite of whatever accident had taken his arm.
“Tell me I didn’t miss the party.” Rafe looked past them to the basket of food on the table. “Right on. Is that breakfast that smells so good?”
Henry nodded and before he could even say anything, Rafe plucked the basket Henry had set on a chair and took it to the table.
“Damn, are these real eggs?” Rafe asked, lifting the lid on the plastic container he pulled out of the basket. “Like the kind an actual chicken shits out? Not that powdered protein reconstituted crap?”
Henry looked beyond exasperated. “There is so much wrong with that statement I do not even know where to begin. I am going to get us all something to drink.” He was still shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen.
It did smell good but Shay was too busy taking in her fiancés. Jonas finally pushed off from the wall and headed for the dining room table as Rafe leaned over and took a deep inhale of the food.
Shay couldn’t help her eyes ping-ponging between all four men as Henry came back with a large pitcher and several stacked glasses. She hurried to help him with the glasses, taking the opportunity to get a closer look at each man as she handed them a glass.
They all couldn’t be more opposite if they tried. The threadbare gray t-shirt Jonas wore looked like it might have once had a logo on the front but it had long since faded. It also did little to hide his lithe and muscular physique. He wore cargo shorts slung low on his hips.
But he’d been standoffish and moody ever since he’d come in. Nothing like Rafe’s open and easy charisma or Henry’s eloquent charm.
The only thing Henry and Jonas had in common might be their age—they both looked to be in their mid-thirties. Maybe Henry was slightly older? He did have a little bit of gray peppering his hair at his temples but somehow it only made him more attractive.
Shay studied Rafe as he grabbed a chair, flipped it around backwards and sat down, straddling it. He looked to be around her and Charlie’s age—maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight.
When Shay started for the table, Charlie was right there at her side, cutting in front of Henry. She frowned. Was Charlie being territorial? Or protective?
Back in Travisville, Jason had considered her his property. Even though sometimes he was the one to invite other men into their bed, he was still quick to turn violent and jealous if he felt she was sharing her attentions too freely.
She kept her eyes narrowed on Charlie as he held out a chair at the table for her. Again, she couldn’t tell… gentlemanly, or controlling?
She grabbed a different chair at the table and sat down, watching his expression carefully. But there was no flash of anger on his features. No tightening of his jaw like happened with Jason whenever he was displeased with her. Usually followed by a blow. Whether it was a slap or a fist depended on his mood.
Charlie didn’t seem perturbed, though, he just moved to sit down beside her.
But his hand didn’t come down on her thigh. He didn’t squeeze her flesh so hard it bruised to remind her who was in control. He just moved the Tupperware of omelets closer to her. “You hungry?”
She blinked. He was offering it to her first? He had to be starving. She knew exactly what they fed him back in Travisville. Or rather, what they didn’t feed him.
She just nodded and he forked an omelet onto her plate. Only after serving her did he serve himself.
It made her chest feel funny—like, ache in a strange way. Her throat felt too tight all the sudden.
But then Rafe took her attention, leaning across her, all the way over the table to grab an omelet from the container with his fingers before dropping it onto his plate. A second later, he shoved a huge bite in his mouth, still without using a fork.
“For fuck’s sake,” Rafe groaned while still chewing, “This is the best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted in my life. You guys here in town live like kings, huh?”
Jonas nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes while he chewed, his eyes closed like he was savoring every bit of the eggs.
“I cannot believe I am wasting my real eggs on your case of the munchies,” Henry muttered sourly. “Who smokes reefer at eight-thirty in the morning?”
“Judge not lest you be judged,” Jonas opened his eyes and picked up his fork, pointing it at Henry before spearing another bite of eggs. “And no one calls it reefer anymore.”
Henry held up his hands. “Judge away. I live a life beyond reproach. Some of us have priorities. You know, things we actually want to accomplish in a day.”
“I have things I’ll accomplish today. My plants need watering and weeding, after all.” Jonas lifted his arms behind his head and pushed the chair up on its back two legs.
“The weed needs weeding?” Rafe joked, chuckling as he shoved the last of the omelet in his mouth. “Fuckin’ priceless.” He slapped the table and kept laughing.
“Is this really the first impression we want to be making on our wife?” Henry asked sharply, cutting Rafe off before he could open his mouth again.
Jonas let out a scoffing noise. “Like you don’t just love trading my Purple Kush for all sorts of luxury shit. Now you’re gonna bust my balls?”
“Wait,” Shay said. She wasn’t sure what to make of Jonas. “You used to be a preacher? And now… you grow marijuana?”
Jonas just shrugged and dropped the front legs of his chair back down to the ground. “Weed’s not that different from religion. It expands our understanding of the universe, right?—but without all the guilt. Sounds pretty damn perfect to me.”
Then his eyebrows lifted as he glanced Shay’s direction. “Sorry, I’m bad at this whole…” he waved a hand, “human interaction shit.” He ran his fingers through his hair. It only made it stand up more. But when he looked back at her, his dark eyes were so striking her fork paused on the way to her mouth. Which was saying something because Rafe was right. The omelets were fantastic.
She put the fork down and tilted her head at Jonas. “So how did that happen?” she asked. “Why’d you stop being a preacher?”
She hadn’t ever been especially religious but she had always been fascinated by those who were. Believing in something bigger than herself… it seemed like that would be comforting. There had definitely been times she wished she had some sort of faith.
But Jonas’s eyes only darkened further. “I saw the light,” he said with a sarcastic smirk. “Literally. Ka-BOOM.” He made an explosion motion with his hands. “I was hiking up on Enchanted Rock when the bombs dropped.�
� He shook his head, his eyes going distant. “The blast cloud looked just like it always did in the movies.”
He finally looked back at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You see a thing like that, well,” he huffed out a bitter laugh, “it’s a little hard to go back up into the pulpit the next Sunday and say God loves you and has a beautiful plan for your life.”
Shay frowned, knowing even as she asked her next question that there would inevitably be a sad answer to follow. Between Xterminate and D-Day, everyone had lost somebody. “Did you have family in the city?”
“Hmm?” Jonas looked up at her. “Oh. No,” he shook his head. “But I just realized, what’s the point, ya know? The toxic rainout’s gonna fall on the good and evil alike. And we’re all gonna die. Question is, how soon you gonna take that dirt nap? And what’s the best way to distract yourself in the meantime?” He pulled a joint and a lighter out of his pocket, at the last second pausing and offering it to Shay.
Shay put her hand out palm up to stop him before he could hand it to her.
It was official.
She didn’t like husband number three.
So he’d watched the bombs drop and it had given him an existential crisis. Boo hoo. That was a pretty damn privileged issue to have if you asked her.
Some people had real problems.
Henry reached over and snatched the lighter out of Jonas’s hands before he could toke up. “I will not allow that filthy habit in my presence. Or the presence of our future wife.”
Jonas shrugged. “Whatever man.” He put the joint back in his pocket and took a long drink of water.
Yeah. She really didn’t like him. She went back to her food.
Rafe let out a quick burp. “Damn, that was good. Are there seconds?” he asked, reaching for the container again.
Henry yanked it back before Rafe could touch it, glowering at him. “There is one left but it’s for Shay.”
Shay was about to tell Henry it was fine—after all, she was almost half the size of some of them—when more banging on the front door startled her so much she almost knocked her glass of water over.