by Kylie Scott
“You have something better to do?” she asked, curious despite herself.
“I can think of a few things, yes.” Aiden gave her a disgruntled look that settled on her mouth and stayed there. There was something about him. The way he was so self-composed, contained.
She almost wanted to trust him, but then, she’d wanted to trust the other man too.
Then he’d grabbed her around the neck and tried to choke her. Dirty nails digging in as he whispered filth in her ear. They’d ended up wrestling on the ground. The back of her head still ached from when he’d bashed it against the concrete floor. She’d been reeling, stunned, when he went for the zip on her jeans. She kneed him in the balls and he’d rolled off her. Furious and petrified, she’d been crying so hard she couldn’t see, but she stomped him until he stopped moving. Thank heaven for thick soled boots.
Then she’d thrown up the contents of her stomach. Such a waste, food didn’t always come easy and she needed to keep up her strength.
Trust wasn’t something she could afford. Not now. Not even if she wanted to.
“Feel free to put the gun away,” she said.
“And what will you do?”
“I’ll put mine away too and we’ll both go our merry ways.”
“Sounds nice in theory.” Aiden watched her, head canted. “But you’ve had a bad experience, Lindsay. You’re a little on edge. Makes a man wary.”
“And here I thought we were getting on so well.”
There was a sudden noise on the street. An engine cutting off. A car door opening.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Friend of yours?”
She shook her head.
* * *
A gun fired outside, once and then again. Her shoulders leapt. It was startling loud.
“Fucking bitch!” someone yelled from the street. “Where are you?”
She and Aiden both looked at each other for a moment.
Then he turned his gun towards the street.
She followed suit, her stomach roiling. From fear or more nausea she couldn’t say.
Lindsay struggled to her feet, rifle firm in her hands. Aiden was already there, crouched behind a display of women’s razors.
Bullets shattered the remaining plate glass window and door. Glass flew. The noise was terrible, ear drum piercing.
“Get back!” Aiden grabbed her arm, tugging her down to her knees.
She crawled to the other side of the stand of shelving to peek. A man stood in the middle of the road with a gun in each hand like some crazed gunman of old. No shirt, no shoes and jeans riding low. His bones jutted out like he wasted away from the inside. The maniac opened fire once more and Lindsay fell back behind the cover.
“Stay down.” Aiden ducked around the edge of the shelving, firing back. Firing wildly, from what she could tell. His aim was fantastically crap. It was however sufficient to make the gunman pause and stumble back towards the big, clunky SUV behind him.
Until Aiden ran out of bullets.
“Shit,” he hissed, glaring at the compact, black weapon like it was doing it just to spite him. “Uh…”
“You don’t have more ammunition?”
“Well, no. I thought that would do. I only wanted to pick up some aspirin and there hasn’t been anyone around in months. Apart from you.” His eyes avoided her. “And now him.”
Moaning started somewhere close, the firefight rousing the infected from their usual daytime quiet. Infected didn’t like sunlight, but it wouldn’t stop them, given cause.
“Fuck me.” She didn’t even bother feeling bad for that one.
Lindsay crawled around the side of the shelving, lining up her rifle. She wasn’t a great shot but she was a damn sight better than Aiden. Most people would have been.
The maniac outside stumbled toward the shop. Drunk, perhaps? Stoned? Who knew, but his face was slack and his steps all over the place, random and haphazard. Not infected, they didn’t drive cars, let alone pick up guns. He fired off another shot, sending fluff from a packet of diapers up into the air. His aim was almost as good as Aiden’s but the chemist shop made a big enough target. The maniac put a few into her moped while he was at it.
“You killed, Pete!” he howled. “Bitch!”
Aiden shot her a look.
Yep. Her fault.
Her heartbeat went ballistic as the drunkard approached. She couldn’t afford to miss. Let him get nice and close. Concentrate.
“Come out here!” the maniac screamed his invitation.
Across the street an infected stepped out of a café, bloody dreds swaying with each step and face turned away from the sun. But it wasn’t stopping. It would come for them now it knew they were there and more would follow. Shit, she started panting, terrified like last time. She could almost feel the pincer hold on her throat and the air getting thin.
“We need to get out the back. Now.” Aiden shuffled back, face white, hand tugging at her jacket. “Lindsay, now!”
She desperately wanted to run. Running made sense. But it wouldn’t solve the problem.
“He’ll follow us. One minute. Just let me line up the shot.” Deep breaths. Calm breaths. Like her father taught her.
Her Dad had loved going pig-shooting and taken her often. She’d disgraced herself every-time by crying when they killed anything. But her father had ensured she knew how to use a gun. He’d also ensured her lifelong stance on vegetarianism.
“Lindsay,” Aiden hissed.
She squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked back with a boom, jarring her shoulder and leaving her ears ringing.
The maniac toppled, blood pissing from his thigh. Wouldn’t take long for the infected to reach him and finish the job. Its shuffling progress across the street was slow but steady, bloody hands outstretched like claws. A grim sort of satisfaction slid through her.
Aiden gripped her arm and dragged her back. Outside, the maniac let loose, emptying his guns into the shop front.
They ran through, ducking low, tripping and slipping over bottles and boxes. The back door stood ajar. It had to be how Aiden had entered, how he’d crept up on her unawares. Outside, the sun glared bright. They raced down a narrow brick alleyway and out onto a side street. A dark blue Jeep sat waiting.
Aiden didn’t slow but he did keep glancing back, checking on her. Making sure she stayed with him. She had to trust him now. He’d risked his life for her. Easily, he could have deserted her, run when the gun man first appeared. But he hadn’t.
Back at the chemist the maniac started screaming. The infected must have reached him. Her stomach tumbled queasily. What a gruesome way to go.
“Get in.” Aiden shoved her towards the Jeep’s passenger side door then raced for the drivers.
There was lots of moaning. Close by, all around them and getting louder. The town was waking, coming alive with infected.
If Aiden left her now she would be dead.
“Hurry,” he said.
Lindsay climbed into the Jeep and shut the door. Her numb fingers fumbled for the seat belt. Aiden made a noise of impatience, reached across and buckled her in.
“No! Wait. My pack,” she said, remembering they’d left it behind. Oh, fuck no. The only thing she still carried was the rifle. Everything she owned was in it.
“Another time” Aiden revved the engine and they were off. Dodging a car sitting in the middle of the street, some debris at the corner, he knew the way well. They were out of town, hurtling along the rough bitumen of a single lane road within minutes. Huge old ghost gums swayed overhead. The windows were down and the air rushing in cooled her hot face. She needed a slap or something to wake her up.
“You’re fine, Lindsay,” he said.
She nodded. Yes, she’d killed again. But she was fine. Life went on. For some.
She pushed aside the guilt churning her guts.
Aiden turned the vehicle and headed down a neat gravel drive. There were so many trees she couldn’t see the house at first, a big old colonial raised
up high. Underneath was open and had probably been used as a carport. The place had undergone some renovations. Front and back the stairs leading up to the second story had been destroyed. A ladder stood in the place of one set, waiting to be used. Considering the house sat at least eight feet in the air, the lack of permanent access made the place pretty much impenetrable to infected.
“Clever.”
“Hmm?” Aiden cut the engine, watching her.
“Cutting out the stairs. That was clever.”
“Thanks.” His knuckles were white, wrapped around the steering wheel. “You’re the first woman I’ve brought home in a long time. The first person I’ve brought home.”
Her nerves were running riot still, shaking her up inside. He sounded so sincere. She didn’t know what to say, what to think, so she kept her mouth shut.
“You did what you had to, Lindsay.”
She blinked. “I know. I’m just… I’m just relieved we’re still alive.”
“So am I.”
“I’m sorry…”
He made a small noise and closed his eyes, shook his head. Not angry, more like he was dismissing her apology as unnecessary.
They both sat in silence for a while. A bird called from somewhere close, the huge old leopard tree standing beside the house. There’d been one of those where she grew up. Probably gone now. It was best not to look back. Safer to leave the past alone.
She was still alive.
Numb but alive.
It would do.
“My hearts still pounding like crazy. It won’t slow down,” she said when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer. She rubbed the heel of her palm against her chest like it would help. Safe. She was safe now. It was okay. “It was a close call…”
“Yes.” He looked at her a long time, eventually giving her a gentle smile. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
CHAPTER TWO
Aiden held the ladder steady for her while she climbed. Slowly. He scaled up after her then pulled up the ladder, seeing to their security. Lindsay’s face had regained a little color and she was looking about with interest. The rifle had been returned to its place on her back.
There were something’s about the new world he’d never get used to.
And the next time he went out, he’d take more bullets.
She was younger than him by a couple of years. About thirty, perhaps. Striking with her stubborn chin and pert nose. Her blonde hair appeared to have been cut short without the benefit of a mirror. She had three studs in one ear, two in the other. At least one tattoo. God only knew what she looked like beneath the army green jacket, he could only see her black jean clad legs and heavy boots. And her eyes. They were big and brown and staring about in awe. They took in the fruit and vegetable patch in the front yard, the shutters he’d built to secure the windows. Everything seemed to delight her.
She’d been almost catatonic in the car but now…
“It’s lovely, Aiden.”
He ducked his head, pleased. “Thank you. Come in.”
She wandered inside, boots tapping on the hardwood floors he’d polished up himself. He and Mia had worked for years on the place, bringing it up to scratch. Then she’d gotten sick.
Lindsay stopped at a bedroom and peered in. “That’s what happened to the contents of the supermarket.”
“Well. I didn’t think anyone else was going to use it…”
“It’s smart to stockpile, Aiden.” She smiled back at him. Her mouth was potent, he kept finding himself staring. What on earth must she think? “You’ve got yourself set up nicely here, haven’t you?”
“I’ve certainly tried.”
She kept going, sticking her head into the bathroom, the next door on her side. It didn’t feel intrusive, oddly enough. On some level he liked having her in his space. She was after all an unattached, attractive woman. In his house. On his territory.
“Ooh, a real claw foot bath. Do you have water?”
“Yes.” He did his best not to think about her wet. And naked. In his tub. “Umm… ah, from the tank. Neighbors have them too, so shortage shouldn’t be a problem any time soon.”
“Good for you,” she said, sounding envious.
He frowned, thoughtful. How hard had it been for her, being out there? What conditions had she been forced to exist in? Certainly in no place as pleasant as his. He couldn’t imagine her on her own, hungry and frightened. Alone. She seemed so strong but the idea was repugnant to him. What if she’d been alone when that lunatic had caught up with her? Stuck in town with no way out and the infected closing in on her. This brave, beautiful girl dead and gone.
No.
He crossed his arms, leant back against the wall. “Lindsay, if you want to stay for a few days and rest up...”
“Thank you, Aiden. That’s very kind.”
“Least I can do.” He shrugged.
It was a start. They could see how they got on. See what developed when she finally took off that big coat of hers. Which was not the way to be thinking but he couldn’t bloody help it. Unsurprisingly, his blood ran hotter and harder at the thought.
She emerged into the kitchen/dining area, stopped and looked back at him. “You have a wonderful home, Aiden.”
“The mortgage and rates have certainly improved recently.” He smiled as pleasantly as he could manage. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Please.”
“Beer?”
“Water’s fine. Thanks.”
Aiden grabbed a couple of water bottles out of the box of same, situated at the end of the kitchen island. “Here…”
And Lindsay stood there, rifle pointed at him, mouth a flat, tight line. “I need to know you haven’t been bitten.”
He bit back a growl. “What is this?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s important.” And she did look sorry, but she didn’t shift the gun one iota. Fuck it.
“Don’t.” His hands clenched tight into fists. “I haven’t been bitten, Lindsay. I’m not infected.”
The nozzle dipped but it didn’t disappear. “I need to be certain. That guy back there, he’d been bitten but he still could have passed for normal. He was still…”
“This is my house,” he said, widening his stance. Pissed off beyond belief. God, he wanted to shake some sense into her. “My home, Lindsay. I invited you in…”
She gave a quick lick of the lips and his cock twitched in his pants, mindless of the firearm currently pointed its way. “Please, Aiden. I want to have a drink and put my gun down. Maybe later put my head on a pillow thinking for the first time in weeks I’m safe. That I’m not going to get eaten in my sleep by an infected. But I can only think that if I know you’re clean.”
He ground his teeth, trying to control his temper. Trying to think. “Fine. Cuts both ways though, doesn’t it? You prove that you’re not bitten too. I find I have all sorts of doubts about you right now.”
She blinked repeatedly, swallowed. “Alright.”
“Being a gentleman, I’ll of course volunteer to go first.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He’d have slammed his empty pistol down on the wooden bench but it would harm the finish. Aiden toed off his sneakers and pulled off his socks, ripped his polo shirt off over his head. Paused for a moment.
Her dark eyes on him were huge, her lips slightly parted. Not the face of a woman thinking of shooting him. His breathing calmed as some of his anger leeched away.
“So?” He did a slow turn for her, arms spread wide. Strutting just a little. “Satisfied?”
“Yes. The pants, please.”
“But of course.” He undid the button and zip, pushed them off over his hips. Totally unselfconscious. Treating it like a dare. And it was. She just didn’t know it yet.
Or maybe she did.
Lindsay eyed up his black boxer briefs and his half-hard cock starting to tent the front. Twin spots of vivid pink burned bright on her cheeks. She swallowed and blinked some mor
e. “Can you turn around please?”
“Are you going to shoot me in the back?”
“No!” She screwed up her face and he almost felt like an ass for a moment. But then this was his home and she was holding a gun on him while he stood there in his underpants for fucksake. The lustful looks were nice but a man had his pride.
He kicked his cargo shorts aside and turned another slow circle. “Well?”
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“You’re welcome. And now it’s your turn.” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Watched.
Lindsay’s chin rose high then she nodded. She placed the rifle onto the dining room table beside her, pulled out a chair and sat down, started in on unlacing her Doc Martin boots. It seemed to take forever. She kept darting looks at him, never quite meeting his eyes. His chest. His thighs. The growing interest in his boxers.
Her eyes hovered there the longest.
There was only one place this was going to end and she had to know it.
Hot, angry sex and lots of it.
So why was she taking so long? His scalp prickled, stomach tightening with need. Maybe he should just help her.
Eventually she dumped both boots and socks, stood and eased off her jacket. Beneath was a large plain black t-shirt to match the black jeans. And marks on her neck. Bruises. A necklace of black and blue finger prints that made his stomach pitch.
“The other man did that to you?” he asked, something jumping in his jawline. Forgetting about his growing hard on, he was so furious on her behalf. How could anyone hurt her? Really? She was so vibrant. So brave. Even if she had annoyed the shit out of him a moment ago, she had reason for her fears. They weren’t baseless.
“Yes, he did.”
“I’m glad you killed him.” Fuck. He’d like to kill him twice.
She stopped and nodded. Then her hands started fiddling with a silver studded leather belt then the jeans button fly. She peeled the black denim down long legs with a hand to the back of the chair for balance. Hesitant or not, Lindsay slowly stripping for him was the sexiest thing he’d seen in years. The highlight of his recent lifetime.
