The Unforgiven (The Propagation Project Book 1)

by Callie Bishop

  I flinch at the severity of his words. My guilt about not telling him about Luka sizzles inside of me and rises as steamy anger. Maybe because I’m struggling with the thought of why I attached myself to Luka—was it to forget Shane? Or maybe I can’t let Shane go because he reminds me too much of home… a feeling I’m not quite ready to let go.

  Shane looks away, as if my face is too painful to look at.

  “I’m sorry, Shane. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “The things that happened to us in there you’ll never understand—”

  “You’re right. I won’t. You two are a genetic match. I get it.”

  “It has nothing to do with a stupid genetic match, Shane. I did what I had to survive and not lose my mind in the process. Don’t pretend you haven’t done the same.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Sarah approached me outside and mentioned she had miscarried a baby not too long ago.”

  “So? What the hell makes you think that has anything to do with me?”

  “She made it obvious you two were close—are close—whatever.”

  Shane’s eyebrows nearly touch his hairline. “She did miscarry, but the baby wasn’t mine. She’s just a friend.”

  Suddenly, I feel bad, guilty even. My heart settles for just a few seconds before I realize that he’s denied getting her pregnant but hasn’t said anything about being in a relationship with her.

  “Did you sleep with her?” I let the question fall from my lips in a whisper.

  The words are glass cutting into my skin.

  His response is the blood dripping from my wound.

  Silence.

  The pain sears through my chest. I lose my breath.

  My heart. It’s still beating, but I feel dead.

  My arms and legs are like lead.

  “Hazel!”

  I ignore him and concentrate on getting myself out of the door with whatever’s left of my dignity. Do I have a right to be upset? I don’t know, but I am.

  He grabs my wrist. “It was months ago.”

  I rip my hand away.

  It was different with Luka, wasn’t it? We were forced into this situation. Our lives were threatened. We were tortured. And then a thought nags me—if all that hadn’t happened, would we still feel this way about each other? Outside of the breeding room will our relationship fall apart?

  “I’m leaving tomorrow to go back to Eight. If I stay here too long, my uncle will grow suspicious.”

  “You’re not coming with us?” I say. “And what about Riley? You’re just going to leave him here?

  The sinking feeling of separation from Shane hits me hard. Ideas are starting to crumble. The cracks are showing. I have no idea where Margaret and Ellen are, LaRoux is gone, Luka is badly injured, and now Shane is leaving to head back to the people who are hunting me down. Panic takes over as I hear the roar of the truck’s engine behind me.

  I turn around to see Milton smiling from ear to ear, pointing enthusiastically toward the truck. I give him a half-wave as he closes the lid of the hood and lets the engine run idle for a while. Droplets start to fall from the sky, dotting the tarmac.

  Shane has already starting walking away.

  “You can’t go now!” I don’t mean it to sound like a plea, but that’s exactly what it is. For some reason, I have this sinking feeling that if Shane leaves now, I’ll lose him forever.

  He stops and turns. “I have to Hazel. I don’t have a choice. You, of all people, should know that. Riley’s coming with me.”

  The rain starts to fall harder as Milton trots passed us. “You kids better get inside…looks like it’s going to be a bad one.” Lightning cuts through clouds and thunder rolls above us, rattling my teeth.

  Shane and I are only a couple feet apart, but I feel him slipping away from me. He’s being pulled by an imaginary string, sucked back into the dark hallway of Ward Eight. Once he goes, I’ll have no way to contact him, and he will once again have to pretend that I am the enemy.

  Chapter 35

  Wind-whipped rain empties from the sky. It’s not safe to drive, so the trip to Uncle Will’s is delayed. There is a part of me a bit relieved by this decision. We’ve been on the move so much, and I’m looking forward to taking a day to catch my breath. I lie with Luka on the narrow mattress. We moved to the top bunk, which provides more privacy. His fingers mindlessly run through my hair as the rain pelts a window. We seem to be the only two not tired of being in bed. There isn’t the usual commotion on the other side of the dorm door. Maybe it reminds us a little of the breeding room, where we only had 4 walls and a bed for days at a time.

  I used to love storms like this when I was little. Mom, Dad, Netty, and I would sit on the front porch for a while and listen as the thunder rolled. As the storm got closer, Netty would beg to go back inside. I would sit by the windowsill and watch as glittery tree branches of lightning fell from the sky. My father would always warn me to stay away from the windows during bad storms, but I never listened. I sat, feeling exhilarated by the electrical charge in the air. I didn’t care. The beauty of it all was what kept me there, awestruck.

  Lightning illuminates the dark room. He cradles my face with one hand, his thumb grazing my cheeks. “Thank you for saving me.”

  Another crack of thunder vibrates my chest.

  I touch my hand to his and kiss him gently, afraid to hurt any of his injuries. I knew in my soul that Luka and I would be bonded somehow for eternity. We bared so much of each other in the breeding room. It was like twins in utero—sharing a small space and splitting all our resources. That connection doesn’t end when the twins are born. I wonder for a fleeting moment if it does when one dies…

  I shift my body so that we are facing one another. I run a thumb over the healing cuts and bruises on his face.

  Luka is my storm. Thunder and lightning charging the air around me. He holds a shadowy energy that draws me in. Getting too close could be dangerous, but I can’t seem to move from that windowsill.

  He drops his hands and grabs mine before kissing my fingers. It’s hard to imagine he’s the same guy who threw trays of food and spoke to me so callously. I don’t see that in his eyes or hear it in his words.

  I kiss Luka a little harder, testing the limit of his body. He meets my enthusiasm.

  “Luka,” I say. “I need you.”

  I need him. Like I hadn’t needed anything ever. I was losing myself in this moment, even if it killed me.

  Luka stops and pulls away. I feel a tinge of disappointment by his recoil. He looks back at me from under his eyelids, the muscles in his chest and stomach flexing with his movement.

  “Are you sure?” he whispers to me, searching my face.

  I’m aching to forget…to live, to love, to lose myself in something. I nod and pull him back to me, letting him know through my kiss that there is no doubt. It feels so good to let go, and I close my eyes to savor the feeling.

  “I need you, too,” he says before kissing me again. “Always have.”

  My heart rate soars. It’s been so long since I’ve been this intimate with anyone. And the last time had been forgettable.

  Luka is kneeling in between my legs. I run my hands over the granite of his stomach. If he changes his mind about this, I might explode. He uses both hands to peel the pants down my legs. He hovers his body over mine and kisses me long and hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and am filled with the rush of forgetting the world around us.

  “Are you sure you won’t hurt?” I say.

  The dimples that drive me mad corner his smile. “I’ve never been so sure in my life.”

  I slip my shirt over my head and unclasp my bra. My short hair can’t hide anything. But I don’t want to hide anymore. There is something so sweet about the way he looks at me.

  Our lips meet and Luka’s hands travels over my stomach to my underwear. He slides them off with o
ne quick movement. His fingers explore this newly exposed area, and I wriggle underneath him. It feels so good I might shatter from that alone. His mouth covers my skin from top to bottom until I’m driven so insane I can’t think of anything else beside him inside me.

  My hands find the waist of his pants and I tug them down. Luka shuffles them off and repositions himself between my legs. He kisses me again. My fingers graze what’s become a beard over his jaw. He smells of soap and something else I can’t put my finger on. A familiar smell that blankets every cell in my body. I nuzzle into his neck and inhale.

  The chain around Luka’s neck bobs on my chest, the cold metal searing against hot skin. I loosen my legs around him and shortly after I feel him inside me. I try not to cry out. I grip his shoulders, still trying to be mindful of his injuries. The fullness in my middle spreads tingles though every nerve-ending. He’s gentle, a bit too gentle. I squeeze my legs around his hips and press my feet into his backside, hinting that I want him deeper. Luka moans and complies.

  “You’re killing me,” he says, without breaking a beat.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I say.

  He picks up the pace, and I let out a muted moan. Thunder rocks the building, masking any sound.

  “I have to slow down,” he says.

  His skin is slick with sweat. We both are.

  I’m enveloped in his strapping arms, and I could live the rest of my life in between them.

  “Is it your rib?” I ask. I didn’t want to impede any of his healing.

  Luka chuckles, breathy and soft. “No, not at all. I’m afraid I won’t last very much longer. It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

  I smile, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. My hands melt over his broad shoulders. “My turn.”

  I carefully maneuver around him.

  “Lie down,” I say.

  He does as instructed. Luka’s face twists in confusion until I wrap my legs around his waist and gingerly sit. We reconnect and a jolt vibrates my body. I keep my gaze on Luka as I rock back and forth.

  “Hazel—”

  I place both hands on his chest to dismiss his concern. I take his hands and place them on my hips. I continue to rock, and his fingers tighten around my backside. A low growl seeps from his throat. He lifts his upper half until our faces are a hair’s distance apart and kisses me like I’ll evaporate at any moment. Luka pulls me closer, and his lips travel over my chest and to my neck. I know I’m close to the edge. I rock a little slower, and Luka’s body tenses in my arms. He nuzzles my ear, and goosebumps flare on my skin. I rock a bit more, a little faster, until I hit the peak. Luka holds on to my backside as I feel his release inside of me. It’s enough to push me over the edge. The feeling cocoons my body like a warm shower and explodes through every muscle. We stay in that position for a few moments before peeling our bodies apart.

  I’m overwhelmed by the calmness I feel being next to him. I’d dare to think I feel safe. Although I’d never be foolish enough to say that out loud. Admitting to it makes it real. And in the real world, things don’t last. Nothing good anyhow. I want to keep these thoughts safe in my head where they can live forever.

  “I love you,” Luka says.

  This time the words don’t frighten me.

  “I love you, too.”

  We stay nestled together, our limbs entwined like old vines through a chain link fence.

  Through the window, the wind has stilled, and the rain is only a mist from the breaking clouds. The storm is over, and Luka lies asleep in my arms.

  * * * *

  I bounce around the back of another truck on the way to Uncle Will’s. I can’t even imagine what everyone will say when they see me…tattoo, blue eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m greeted with Uncle Will’s shotgun again.

  Shane is driving since Luka’s eyes are still a bit swollen. He agreed to help bring Netty and baby Catherine back to Airport City but insisted he and Riley had to leave as soon as we got them there. I’m already racking my brain, trying to give him another reason to stay a little longer. Maybe it’s better if he goes. Once he’s back in Eight, I can pretend that he doesn’t exist like I did before. But I’m not very convincing, and I know sooner or later the incessant thought of him will return.

  Luka sits across from me in the back while Riley is lying flat-out across the other end. Sarah and Shane chat idly in the front seat. I wonder what it is they’re talking about, and Luka catches me staring at them. He taps my foot with his.

  He doesn’t say anything, just stares. I open my mouth to say something…anything…but the words get caught in the back of my throat.

  “Nervous?” he asks me.

  My stomach feels like one giant knot twisting tighter and tighter. I’ve had a consistent feeling of being on the edge of losing control for the last few days. I’m trying not to run the worst-case scenarios in my head, but it’s inevitable, and each time, I think of something worse that could happen.

  “Do I look nervous?” I ask.

  Luka snickers. “Don’t be. I’m sure everyone is fine.”

  I hope he’s right. We’ll be showing up to Uncle Will’s in the middle of the night again with no forewarning. I close my eyes and picture the inside of the house, clean and organized, the smell of wildflowers permeating the rooms. I see Netty playing with baby Catherine on the living room floor while Aunt Rhea looks on from her rocking chair, steadily crocheting a pink blanket. Uncle Will is at the kitchen table fiddling with one of his five-hundred-piece puzzles that he loves to do. The room is full of laughter and giggles and the soft coos of baby Catherine.

  The truck hits a pothole, and I’m jolted back to reality, the gun in my waist jabbing into me. It has become a permanent fixture on my body, that and the backpack carrying my entire life. Thankfully, Shane swiped the guns off the dead Pigeons when we rescued Luka and Riley. Now, we are all armed and more than willing to pull the trigger. The images of everyone are so vivid it feels more like a dream, and I wonder if I had fallen asleep for a few brief moments. I tried to get some rest earlier, but as usual I couldn’t turn off the constant nagging in my brain. One of these days I’m just going to fall over from exhaustion.

  * * * *

  I switch places with Sarah and plop in the front seat of the truck. We’re in Ward Two and close to Uncle Will’s farm. The houses start to thin, and the landscape becomes more desolate. I give Shane a few directions, and a half hour later, we find ourselves driving down the dirt driveway. The house is pitch black, but it’s no surprise this time of night. I direct Shane to park the truck near the pole barn in the back.

  I take a few deeps breaths, trying to level my thumping heartbeat.

  “Ready?” asks Shane after a few minutes of silence from me.

  I nod as I open the passenger side door. Everyone hops out of the truck and stretches a little. The ground is slick with mud. The air feels stagnant here, as if there hasn’t been the usual whooshing to stir it up. It’s eerily placid, which sets me on edge. Even the trees seem to be asleep.

  I fumble through the darkness, waiting for the motion light to flash on, but it doesn’t, the first bad sign that rumbles my stomach. There’s a crunching feeling under my boots, and when I scrape the ground with my foot, I realize it’s broken glass. Looking up, I see the mangled remains of the smashed light, hanging loosely over the porch door. Before anyone can stop me, I storm through the unlocked door.

  “Hazel!” I hear Luka and Shane call me all at once, but it’s too late.

  Inside, the house is cold and dark. There isn’t a five hundred-piece puzzle on the kitchen table, only a broken vase, its pieces sitting among dripping water and scattered flowers. My vision begins to blur as the beating of my heart drowns out the silence. I think everyone comes in behind me, but I don’t care to look.

  “There’s no one here,” I cry out. I sprint to the living room and its emptiness rips away a piece of me. I close my eyes, remembering the vision of Netty, baby Catherine, and Aunt Rhea.


  Please. Please. Please!

  I open them, and the room is still empty.

  The room starts to sway, and I turn to brace myself on the closest person to me, Shane.

  “They’re…they’re…” I’m unable to grasp what is happening. This is just another dream. A nightmare. I’m asleep in the back of the truck, and when I wake, I’ll know that it was all just a bad dream.

  “Wake up,” I whisper to myself. “Wake up.”

  I hold on to Shane’s shoulder. “Hazel, are you okay?” I feel his hands around my waist, but his face is a blur.

  Luka’s voice is in the background, and for a minute I feel a tug of war, each one leading me in different directions.

  “She needs to sit down for a few minutes,” Luka says. He leads me to the couch.

  “We need to get out of here,” Shane says.

  “He’s right,” says Riley. “There’s nothing we can do for them now. They could have been taken days ago.”

  Sarah sits and wraps her arms around me. I dig myself deeper into her shoulder, not wanting to hear the words.

  “Let’s just take a minute to figure out what our next move is,” she says. Her voice is level and solid, and I’m amazed at how calm she sounds.

  The unwarranted animosity I’d felt for her has shriveled each day. It’s gone now, and I’m embarrassed it ever existed.

  Luka, Shane, and Riley continue to spat about what we should do. Shane and Riley vote to go back to Airport City so they can return to Ward Eight and see if they can find out any info. Luka mentions something in response, but I zone out his words when I hear the faint thud of something upstairs.

  I poke my head up from Sarah’s shoulder, straining my ears to see if I hear it again. Luka, Shane, and Riley have started talking over each other, making it impossible to hear anything beyond the sound of their voices.

  I shush them, and they all stop mid-sentence, their mouths hanging open. “All of you. Just give it a rest for a few seconds!”

  The dead silence once again fills the house. I’m hearing things; my desperation is playing tricks on my mind. But then I hear a hard thump against the ceiling above us, and by the looks on everyone’s faces, I know I’m not the only one. I jump from the couch, Sarah still hanging on to one of my arms.