by Stasia Black
Two months later, after witnessing the most horrific suffering imaginable, her mother died.
Her father had never returned.
And then the world went crazy.
The fires, the looting, the riots. There was rarely a day that went by without hearing gun shots. Gun shots. In their peaceful little Texas suburb.
Vanessa packed a bag and, in the middle of the night, ran to the car. She was lucky—at least for a while—because no one saw her. But when she got to her father’s house, the luck ran out.
No one answered the door when she knocked. So she’d broken a window and recoiled at the familiar smell of death. She covered her nose and mouth with the inside of her elbow and raced up the stairs to investigate. She only found the wife upstairs. No dad. No Cecily. Did that mean…?
They said a few lucky women were naturally immune to the virus and sometimes the immunity ran in families. So was her half-sister immune too? Some genetic quirk passed down from their Dad?
In Cecily’s room, the dresser drawers were open and empty. Which was when Vanessa realized the truth.
Her father had packed Cecily up and fled, without stopping to check on his other daughter. Vanessa wasn’t even worth the ten-minute trip across town. He obviously hadn’t wanted to be saddled with her.
And in the eyes of the five men standing across the room from Vanessa now, she saw the same apathy, if not downright dislike.
Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. Her hand went up to her awkwardly shorn hair, but then she yanked it back down, furious at herself and then at the men in front of her.
“Well, then,” the Commander said, apparently getting the same read off their unenthusiastic reactions. “There will be a getting-to-know you period first, of course.”
Vanessa understood from Sophia that none of the past getting-to-know-you periods had ever ended in anything other than nuptials. She had a sinking feeling she would be the first bride in the short history of Jacob’s Well to be stood up at the altar.
And then Vanessa did the most honest thing she’d done in years. She put her head in her hands and cried. It was loud. It was messy. And those tears, like everything else about her, were not pretty.
Chapter Five
LOGAN
Logan had followed a gloating Nix up to the second floor of the courthouse, preparing to call bullshit on this whole thing. He’d planned to tell the Commander that he hadn’t put his name in the box, that this Plan B pick-a-number bullshit was bogus, and that he wanted to forfeit his spot.
Even if he had been jonesing for a bride—which again, he was not, no way, no how—he couldn’t marry the tiny, emaciated girl they’d rescued earlier. She might be fierce in a fight but she was barely a hundred pounds soaking wet. He’d crush her.
However, before he could open his mouth to protest, the girl who had been so badass out in No Man’s Land began to tremble so hard he could see it from where he stood across the room from her.
“Well, then,” the Commander said, frowning at Logan and the four others who flanked him. “There will be a getting-to-know you period first, of course.”
Logan kept his focus locked on the girl and silently willed her to get her shit together. He’d watched her take down two seriously nasty smugglers. A girl like that didn’t shake like a leaf just because of some stupid lottery.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” muttered Camden Parker. Logan’s jaw flexed. Cam had always been a pain in Logan’s ass, all the way back from the days when Cam had been in the Security Squadron with Logan. He hadn’t lasted long. He was unruly, insubordinate, and undisciplined. After picking one too many fights with his fellow Squadron-mates, Logan had personally recommended that he be removed from the Security forces.
Nix agreed and Logan still looked back on the day he’d personally had the honor of kicking Cam out on his ass with fondness.
Didn’t seem like Cam’s manners had gotten any better in the intervening years, either. He looked openly disdainful as he looked the woman up and down.
Ah, shit, now the girl was crying. The sound made Logan’s heart drop.
The two boy-men—twins, he realized—started arguing amongst themselves. The more clean cut of the two was muttering, “I thought you said your plan was going to get us out of this.”
Cam was now cursing under his breath. No word from the last one, who was dressed all in white.
Logan took a small step forward and the girl swiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks.
He took heart as she squared her shoulders and met him head-on. This had to be scary for her, but she’d be okay. They’d get this straightened out and then she could find a better match. Someone who would never fail her like he’d failed Jenny.
Logan, I have to go, said the memory of Jenny’s frantic voice in his head. You aren’t getting better.
He’d been feverish for days. To the point of delirium. He could barely get to the bathroom and only with Jenny’s help. Still, he had enough brainpower to know what she was suggesting was insanity.
You aren’t going anywhere, he growled. I forbid it.
You aren’t in a position to forbid anything. You can’t even get out of bed! I’m going.
No! Goddammit, Jenny, he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. You’ve heard the news about Xterminate. They’re saying the mortality for women who get it is over sixty percent! You aren’t leaving this house.
Oh but it’s fine for you to risk your life?
Then he’d woken up only to find her gone, out on some hair-brained mission to try to get him medicine—at the height of the Texas Xterminate epidemic, during the worst of the Death Riots. And the news reporting had been wrong. The mortality rate wasn’t sixty percent. It was ninety. Ninety percent.
He should have known what she’d do. She was so damn stubborn. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. He should have tried harder to convince her. He shouldn’t have gone to that fucking hack of a dentist for a root canal—the tooth had gotten infected. Jenny had died because he’d gotten an abscessed tooth.
But no, that was a lie. Jenny had died because he was trying to save a fucking buck. She’d died because he wasn’t strong enough to stop her. To save her.
So no, he wouldn’t infect this girl’s life with his presence.
They’d clear this up and then things could go back to the way they ought to be. He’d return to the silence of the little shack he slept in on the outskirts of town and when he had a shift, he’d come in and do his duty. It was a simple life and it was all he wanted. All he deserved.
Vanessa shook her head as if she still had hair to toss back. She didn’t. She only had a quarter-inch of dark stubble over her perfectly shaped skull. Her eyes were large, dark brown, and round. Her body looked like a plucked bird, spindly with barely any meat on it.
“Someone get this girl a cheeseburger,” Cam said and for once, Logan agreed with him. Something Logan sure as hell thought he’d never be able to say.
“Camden,” the Commander snapped. “Never in the history of Jacob’s Well have I seen five men behave so ungratefully. Do you know how many of those men out there would kill to be standing where you are?”
“Well let one of them take my spot then,” Logan growled. It was time to bring this farce to an end. “I didn’t put my name in the damn box.”
The Commander, his daughter, and the girl all flinched. At his words? At his delivery? He couldn’t tell.
“You didn’t?” The woman—Vanessa, if he remembered right—asked, her voice sounding thin. She looked around at all of them. “Did any of you?” Her gaze finally settled on the fifth man, the one dressed in white who’d hung back the most. “Did you?”
“My name’s Michael, Miss. And, no, I’m afraid I did not.”
Vanessa took a deep breath like she was just managing to fight back more tears. It was the last thing he would have expected from the warrior woman he’d met earlier today.
Then again, Logan knew a little something about puttin
g on armor to keep the world at bay. It looked like she’d finally set hers down—expecting Jacob’s Well to be a safe haven—and then for shit to go so sideways on her…
Jesus, Logan thought, staring at Michael. He hadn’t entered his name, either? What were the chances? Would there have to be a complete do-over of the lottery?
“If you didn’t mean to be entered, then why were you even down in the square?” Vanessa asked incredulously, and the cry in her voice made Logan’s heart constrict with pain. Were they all going to reject her? Shit.
“I’m a journalist. I only came to watch,” Michael said. “But I got…sort of chased…into the crowd right before the groups were formed. Everyone was packed in so tight. There was no way out for me.”
Vanessa didn’t blink at his explanation. It made Logan think she was used to being chased—that maybe she understood the feeling of being trapped. He was racked by another wave of sympathy when he imagined how many times in the past her face had been as banged up as it was now. Being out there on her own for all that time…
Jesus Christ, even hardened Security officers only went out in groups of at least three when they went on Scrapper runs. When they ventured beyond their own territory or territories they had treaties with like Central Texas North, they took a full brigade of six to eight men.
But she’d been out there, all alone… ever since the damn Fall?
“You?” she asked, directing her attention now to Cam. He’d actually seemed really excited when their group was first called, but now he looked like he was sucking on a lemon.
“Camden’s the name and, yeah. I put my name in the box.” He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “But look, sweetheart,” he pulled out a hand to gesture up and down at her. “You…” he trailed off, then looked to the Commander. “Look, this whole thing was fucked. The box was stolen and it wasn’t even a real lottery. You should have a redo and then she can get someone, you know…” he shrugged, gesturing at her again like she was a piece of meat. “More suited to her.”
What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Just. Say?
Logan fought the urge to punch the bastard in the throat, but the girl didn’t seem surprised by his comment.
“And you two?” she asked the twins, her eyes narrowing. Logan couldn’t tell if she was getting pissed, or about to cry again. Logan took a step closer to her. To do what, he didn’t know—only that while he was poor husband material, these assholes might even be worse. He wasn’t going to let any of them hurt her any more than they already had.
“We put our names in the box, but only because our mother made us,” the first twin said. He, at least, was dressed like someone wanting to impress a bride. Hopefully he would give the girl the respect she deserved. “Ross,” the kid said, pointing at his chest. “And this is my younger brother by two minutes, Riordan.”
Riordan seemed to bristle at his introduction. He jutted out his jaw. “It was me, okay? I took a stand, and I did it.”
“Did what?” the Commander asked.
Riordan turned a cool eye on him. “When people got all wigged out, protesting the new verification system you’d put in place double and triple checking people’s papers, things started getting chaotic. I grabbed the opportunity and stole the damn box. Hid it in the bushes so mine and Ross’s names couldn’t get called.”
Everyone but Ross stared at him with their mouths slightly open.
Riordan glanced around at all their faces, then he threw his hands up. “It wasn’t supposed to work out like this. We’re supposed to be home by now.”
The Commander’s face went red, like a thermometer ready to burst. His daughter covered her mouth, and Vanessa gripped the Commander’s wrist for balance.
“YOU STOLE THE BOX?” bellowed Cam before anyone else had a chance to react. Within seconds, the room erupted into shouts and finger pointing. The accusations piled on top of each other creating an onslaught of angry voices and blame. None of this would have happened if… I’m gonna fucking kill you! Get your hands off my brother! This is what happens when y’all mess with a system. You don’t wanna mess with me!
Logan didn’t know who laid hands on whom first. But at some point, he felt someone push him from behind, and the next thing he knew, the girl—Vanessa—was standing in the middle of the fray, dodging blows with her arms outstretched to separate them. Fuck, she was going to get hurt!
“Stand back,” she yelled and even though she couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds, they all fell silent. “What the hell is wrong with y’all? Have you lost all the good sense God gave you?”
Logan blinked. Then he fought a smile. Jenny used to ask him the same thing all the time.
“You!” Vanessa said, jerking her chin toward the windows.
Logan took heart that the warrior he’d met in the bush was back. He looked toward the unfortunate soul who was now the focus of her wrath: Michael, if he remembered correctly; the guy dressed all in white.
“I’ll start with you.” She moved out of the center of angry men and marched toward Michael.
The closer she got, the more panic showed on the guy’s face. “Don’t touch me!” he said.
“What the—?” Logan murmured.
“Relax,” said Vanessa. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I…” Michael closed his eyes and seemed to wince as if preparing for pain. “Just please… Don’t get too close.”
She stopped when she was only a foot from him. Then she calmly turned toward the Commander. “Sir, can I have a moment alone with my fiancés?”
But the Commander was shaking his head. “We’ll just have to redo the entire lottery. Tomorrow, I’ll—”
“Stop,” Vanessa said sharply.
The Commander looked at her, the surprise obvious on his face.
“We will not redo the lottery.”
“But this is obviously a disaster,” the Commander objected, gesturing at the men. “And that one stole the box.” He glowered at Riordan. “If anyone finds out, they’ll think that it’s okay to—”
“I don’t give a shit about any of that.” Vanessa slashed a hand through the air. “Everything happens for a reason. I take my luck as it comes to me. Now give me a minute alone with my husbands to be.”
Husbands. Logan flinched at the word—he wasn’t the only one—because she was clearly staking her claim. He would have protested, but his eyes were locked on the jagged scar across her bared shoulder blade. What kind of bastard would hurt such a tiny woman? He had the sudden urge to decapitate whoever’d done it. The bloodthirsty impulse startled him.
“All right,” the Commander said, giving a slow nod as he looked back and forth between Vanessa and the men. “Sophia, let’s follow up on Cam’s earlier suggestion and see if we can find a late-night snack for Vanessa?”
Sophia gave Vanessa an encouraging hug, then she followed her father out of the room. When the door closed with a soft click. Vanessa slowly turned away from Michael to face Logan and the other three. “It appears we have a few things to learn about each other. Shall we begin?”
Logan bowed his head and wrapped his hand around the back of his neck. Jesus, what was he gonna do now? Something deep inside of him—a part of him he hadn’t felt in years—was starting to stir the more he looked at Vanessa.
No. No, no, no. These feelings… They weren’t real. It was just his guilty conscious getting sadistic all over his ass. There were plenty of hurt and traumatized women in this world. What was he going to do? Suddenly swoop in to protect them like he hadn’t been able to protect Jenny?
Right now, this tiny stranger was just an emotional surrogate for years of pent-up guilt. A convenient landing place for all the blame he shouldered. That’s all she was, right?
Right?
Chapter Six
CAMDEN
Camden Parker stared at the skinny, bald chick in front of him and shook his head. After all the lotteries he’d entered, year after year, chance after chance—eighty-nine of them to be
exact—this was the one time his number came up? This girl?
He could hear his father’s chuckle in the back of his head. Looks about right to me. A loser for a loser.
Cam clenched his jaw, breathing out hard.
Over the years, he’d heard his friends’, acquaintances’, and enemies’ names called. But never his. Never fucking his.
Just a few days ago there’d been a hot blond who’d come in. But could he have won that lotto? Oh no, of course not. He had to get this half-starved stick figure. Jesus, she’d lost her shit and started crying almost the second they’d shown up. Was this what he’d waited all these years for?
At least the girl—Vanessa or whatever—was finally starting to show some backbone. Her voice was only a little shaky when she said, “Take a seat, gentlemen.” She gestured at the folding chairs that were stacked against the wall.
When she realized no one was moving, she ordered, louder. “Sit.”
Cam rolled his eyes. Being ordered around by someone who could be confused with a pre-pubescent boy was not how he pictured the first ten minutes with his future bride.
But then, everything about this lotto was bullshit. No way it should be counted as legit.
There still had to be time to talk the Commander into redoing it. Jesus, that idiot kid had stolen the damn box. That should disqualify him for a decade, not win him a spot as a husband.
Still, he didn’t want to be a dick. Okay, he didn’t want to be any more of a dick. So he sat.
Vanessa looked like she’d had a rough time of it recently, but then, it was the apocalypse. Everyone had problems. And Cam had had the short end of the stick too many times in his life to take this lying down. He’d sit through this meeting of hers, or whatever, and then go talk to the Commander one on one.
After five years in the military as a medic, surely that entitled him to some damn say in the matter, right? For serving his country and all that shit? He was a goddamned war veteran. Where was his damn reward already?
