by Jenika Snow
But even those nightmare images weren’t enough to erase the one picture that would forever be ingrained in his head or the pain he felt in his chest on a daily basis.
She cleaned the wound once more, smeared some kind of cream on it, and then grabbed squares of thick gauze to cover the entrance and exit. “You have a very gentle touch.” She lifted just her eyes to his, and he felt her touch still. “You really do, Sparrow.” The way her cheeks turned pink had him smiling. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It feels like forever since I’ve felt a touch so soft.” She cleared her throat, and he knew he should just shut the fuck up. He rested his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
Maybe it was the pain and blood loss that was making the wall he erected for his emotions slowly chip away? Or maybe he was just really falling for this woman, and that it had felt like an eternity since the world fucking ended and the life he once knew was just now a distant memory?
Being with Asher was different, sort of. Where Ash was hard and rough, speaking his mind and calling Mason on his shit, Sparrow had this delicate look in her eyes, even when she was arguing with him.
Asher could handle himself, had proven that on more than one occasion. But Sparrow was so small compared to them, and although he knew she was tough or she wouldn’t have lasted this long, he couldn’t help the male surge that filled him at the need to protect her. But there was a lot of shit he never told her, and he knew she most likely wouldn’t be all about being with two men.
He felt like a selfish bastard for wanting both Ash and Sparrow, because he was in no position to have both of them. He had been lucky as fuck when he found Ash, and although he certainly never thought he would have been in a relationship with a man, or even fall in love with one, that was exactly what happened.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was low, and she tried to act like she was busy dressing the wound, but he heard the slight quiver in her voice.
“Yeah, Sparrow, you can.” And he meant it, because Mason didn’t want to hide anything from her, not after what happened. It pissed him off that his little bird being taken had knocked some fucking sense into him, and it made him realize that this chip he carried around on his shoulder was only holding him back.
He couldn’t go back to only confiding in Asher when he felt like it or to keeping even the man he loved at a distance more times than not. He wanted Sparrow, and not just because she was gorgeous and the first woman he had really seen since the infection had spread and he lost her.
Mason wanted Sparrow, because she was the first woman who opened his eyes and his heart and showed him that losing the ones he loved didn’t mean he could never feel again, but that he needed to open himself to the possibilities that were right in front of him. She reached down and grabbed her bag, riffled through it until she found what she was looking for, and set the pill bottle on the nightstand.
“I found some antibiotics at the pharmacy. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” He shook his head, and she nodded. “Good. I’ll have you take one of these three times a day, just in case. The last thing you need is an infection.” A beat of silence stretched between them.
“My allergies weren’t what you planned on asking me, was it?”
She licked her lips and glanced down at her lap. “No, it wasn’t.” Another second passed before she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. God, her eyes were so blue and pretty. “What does your tattoo mean?” She reached for the tape, tore off one more long piece, and secured it on his shoulder. But before she could move away too far, he reached out and took hold of her hand.
A small noise left her, and he knew she also felt the electrical charge at the contact. He held her hand for probably a moment too long, but her skin was so soft, and her hand so much smaller than his. Reluctantly, he let go or her and rested his head against the pillow.
He might as well start from the beginning, because he eventually planned to tell her anyway. If she was going to be staying with them—and Mason wanted that desperately, and he knew Ash did too—then he needed to be honest with her. This world didn’t need any more secrets. He certainly didn’t want her thinking that he was this big fucking asshole because he liked being like that. She deserved the truth.
“I got the tattoo after my stint with the Navy ended.” He had a few other tattoos on his body, ones he had gotten with his buddies while an active Navy SEAL, ones that were for honor and courage and to remember his fallen brethren. But this one was different and meant something far different. “I was married with a son.” His throat clogged up. The only other time he had ever spoken about this was with Ash, and that had been one of the hardest conversations he ever had.
“If this is too hard to talk about, we don’t—”
He shook his head, stopping her. “No. I want to tell you, need to tell you. You need to know why I am the way I am and why I will always be like this.”
“Like this?”
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and breathed out. “Yeah, Sparrow. I’ll always be a hardheaded bastard at the best of times. My frustration and anger are a never-ending cycle inside me. I won’t ever be like Asher. He’s sweet and kind, gentle, and will treat you like a delicate piece of china.”
Her eyes were wide, and although he didn’t want to scare her or make her uncomfortable, there was no denying that she had to hear everything. She placed her hand right over his, and his heart slammed against his sternum.
“This tattoo represents life, of what I lost, but what I want to have in the future.” He turned more on his side so she could fully see the tree that covered an entire side of his abdomen. Pushing down the waistband of his jeans, he then pressed his arm across his chest so nothing obstructed her view. He gritted his teeth from the movement and the pain it caused. There was a small sound that left her.
He looked over his shoulder and watched her, but she was looking at his side with her mouth slightly parted. She reached her hand out, but right before she made contact with his skin, she stopped and flicked her eyes to his.
“May I?” Her voice was soft, hesitant even. He nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Mason had to control everything inside him not to move or make a sound as she glided her fingers along the roots of the tree that spread across to his abdomen and around to his lower back.
Gritting his teeth, because her touch felt so fucking good, he forced himself to keep his eyes open as she moved her fingers up the trunk and along the branches.
“There aren’t any leaves.” It wasn’t a question.
“Before I left for duty, my wife became pregnant, but we lost the baby.” Her movements stilled, but he reached across, took her hand, and continued to move it along the bared branches snaking up his ribcage. “The tree started off as just this branch with the tiny blackbird on it.” She pressed her entire hand over the bird. “When I came back home, we tried for another baby. She got pregnant, and we had our son nine months later.”
He knew she was crying without even looking at her anymore. He could smell the saltiness of her tears as if they were his own.
“Tyler had a rare disorder and actually outlived the lifespan the doctors gave him by a year.” His chest hurt from the memory, but he needed to keep going. “After he died, Molly sank into a deep depression. I didn’t know what to do or how to get my wife back. I ended up getting the rest of the tree as sort of a tribute to what we lost and what I wanted to gain in the future.” He glanced at her once again. “To answer your question, the branches are bare, because on the outside, it appears dead, but if you look harder and really see what is there, you’ll realize the tree isn’t dead at all.” He moved her hand down to the roots. “There is still life underneath it all, and we just have to wait for the seasons to change for that life to come back to us.”
Her tears were running freely down her cheeks now, and he lifted his hand and brushed them away.
“She didn’t have time to come out of the depression, because she was bitten before t
he infection was widely publicized.” By the look in her eyes, he knew he didn’t have to explain to her that he killed his wife right after she became infected.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and filled with pain. He didn’t want to have the past hold him back from taking that next step forward.
He shook his head. He didn’t want her to say sorry, because that wasn’t why he told her. She may have been quiet, but Sparrow had shown she was an empathetic person. He had seen the way she would watch the blackbirds rest atop the dead phone lines that lined the street as they walked. Saw the small smile on her face when the clouds broke free and the sun sliced through the murkiness.
She was a gentle soul with a fierce exterior.
“Life is all about give and take, of dying and being reborn. A little piece of Molly died after the miscarriage, but she was reborn when Tyler came along. But as life tends to keep throwing hardballs, and giving wave after hard and painful wave of turbulence, we lost Tyler. She was never the same after that.” He looked into her eyes. “I lost her long before the immunization turned everyone into these walking corpses, long before I ended her life and her suffering. I felt a lot of guilt for thinking I had done the right thing.” Mason had only cried three times in his life. The first two were when he lost his children, and the third when he watched Molly close her eyes for the last time after he shoved his blade into her head. But unexpected tears started to form in his eyes.
He pushed them away, not wanting to bring on that kind of pain, even if that meant it would help him get rid of some of his hatred and hurt.
“But then I found Asher, talked to the first person about it all, and realized that with death comes release.” He hadn’t realized he looked away until Sparrow placed her much smaller hands on his cheeks and urged him to look at her once more.
They stared at each other for several long seconds, and the pain she felt for him, for what he had gone through, speared him right in the chest like a hot, sharpened blade.
“The cabin we are heading to was something I had been working on for years, right after Tyler died. It was supposed to be a place I took Molly, hoping that nature, solitude, and the peace of being out in the open with me might help her come out of the darkness that was slowly consuming her. The cabin used to be my father’s, but he willed it to me after he died. Ever since then, I have been stocking it with food and making it so that when I did have Molly there, she would have time to heal, and we wouldn’t have to worry about anything.” He looked at the ceiling and exhaled. “But none of those plans happened.” When he looked back at her, he felt her sorrow, but that hadn’t been why he told her about his past. “Now, I am trying to look at the future and make sure nothing happens to you and Ash.”
She was silent for a while, and he wished he could read her mind. “I don’t know what your beliefs are, but what I can say is that mine are that your wife is in her own personal heaven, holding both of her children tightly in her arms, and looking down on you with a smile on her face, because you are so strong and have such a good, warm heart, even if you can’t see it. You helped me when you had nothing to gain. Where others would have taken from me repeatedly, you let me join you and Asher.” She smiled softly. “In your own way, of course.” Mason found himself lifting his uninjured arm and placing his hand over one of hers. “You did what you had to do, and I know when I had to end my brother’s life, I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of him walking around aimlessly with no purpose, and of him suffering in his own personal hell. That isn’t how someone should live, and if my brother and your wife were still alive, they would tell you the same thing.”
It was eerie how similarly she and Asher thought, because Ash said almost the same thing. It had been those words that pulled him somewhat out of the bleakness he found himself trapped in. Neither said anything for a long while, but it was a comfortable silence. His pulse pounded in his ears, in his throat, and had him feeling lightheaded. She dragged her tongue along her bottom lip, and Mason watched the act. He was hard, had felt his dick throb as soon as she placed her hands on his face.
“Mason….” She was looking at his mouth, and he knew she felt this pull between them as well.
“Yeah, baby, I know. I feel it too.” He leaned in close enough that they shared the same air. “I really want to kiss you, little bird.” Mason had never been the type to give fair warning to what he did. He took what he wanted, when he wanted. Some had called him arrogant, but he liked to think of himself as determined.
“I want you to kiss me.” Fuck, his heart was thundering so hard, and his mouth watered for a taste. “But you’re hurt, and I should let you rest—”
Mason didn’t let her finish that sentence. He slammed his mouth on hers and speared his tongue between her soft, succulent lips. He slid his hand behind her head and curled his fingers into her hair. She told them she swam across the pond, and the strands were still damp. He tangled his fingers in them and tugged her head back, baring her throat.
Mason had his lips on the arch of her throat, had his tongue moving up and down the delicate column, and groaned deeply. He should have talked this out with her, had the three of them discuss where this was going to go, because as it was, she probably thought it would just be her and him, and he couldn’t do that. He cared for Ash far too much, knew the other man wanted Sparrow just as badly and had some kind of fantasized delusion that the three of them could be together.
She breathed heavily, and when he looked up with just his eyes, he saw she had hers closed. Her mouth was slightly parted, and he moved her head back down so he could take control of her mouth once more. The sound of their heavy breathing and of her moaning softly had him so fucking hard he could have driven nails through steel with his damn cock.
She placed her hands on his chest and curled her fingers into the flesh. He grunted in pleasure. Her touch, smell, and taste were so different from Ash’s but not any less pleasurable than the man he cared for.
“Wait,” she murmured against his mouth, but Mason fucking wanted her badly and broke away from the kiss only to trail his lips along the line of her jaw. “Mason, it feels so good—”
“Yeah, baby. It feels really fucking good.” She made a small noise in the back of her throat, and he wrapped her arms around hers, trying to pull her closer to his body. Fuck, he wanted to feel her big breasts pressed against his chest, feel her softness, and get lost in everything that was Sparrow.
“No, wait. We have to stop.” She added pressure to his chest and pushed him back enough that his mouth broke the seductive suction from her jaw and neck. She was breathing just as heavily as he was, and Mason couldn’t help but stare at the way her breasts rose and fell and pressed against the thin material of her shirt. She changed when they got to the cabin, and he just now realized she wasn’t wearing a bra under that T-shirt. Holy. Fuck. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he felt the scrape of his stubble along his palm.
“I’m sorry. Shit, I am really fucking sorry.” He pushed himself up farther on the bed and hissed out a curse when he applied pressure to the arm that had been shot.
“Hey, hey, just relax. You’re going to make things worse.” Her focus was on his shoulder again, and she gently ran her fingers over the gauze. “You’re not bleeding through, so that’s good.” She leaned back and twisted her hands in her lap. “I didn’t mean to upset you or stop what we were doing.” Her cheeks became pink, and she looked away for a second before she looked at him once more. “It’s just…” She paused. “You and Asher…” She shrugged. “I don’t want to get between you two, and I certainly don’t want to deceive anyone. You guys are a couple, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
Mason didn’t know what to say, and for a moment, all he did was stare at her, trying to explain that Asher wanted her just as badly as he did, but he jumped forward when he should have taken a step back. But things changed when the world ended, civilization crashed, and Sparrow had been taken from them.
Things were put
in perspective, and priorities were shifted. All it had taken was this little bird to be in danger, for the threat to present itself in the form of motherfuckers wanting to take something that wasn’t their right to take. “I care about Ash. He was there when I was at my breaking point, but he helped bring me back a little and helped me realize life still goes on.” He heard her swallow. “But I think there are a few things we should discuss concerning the three of us. Things that will change a lot, Sparrow.”
Chapter Twelve
Asher stepped off the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. The cabin was dark aside from the lone candle, which he found in one of the drawers and then lit. He stepped into the kitchen, and the single flame from the candle that he placed in a rusted cup sat in the center of the small four-person table.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Mason and Sparrow, but he had gone upstairs to see how he was doing and to see if Sparrow needed anything.
That was when he heard Mason telling her about his past, and something in Asher cracked over the fact that his hard, very reserved lover opened up to Sparrow. That meant Mace truly did feel something more than tolerance for the female, and that meant a hell of a lot.
But soon, that deep and painful conversation turned heated, and he heard the clear sound of the two of them kissing. He had gotten hard instantly, and even if it was only that one sound that had gotten him erect, he had a lot of filthy images moving through his head.
So, like a fucking pervert, he leaned around the doorframe and watched with restrained arousal as Mason and Sparrow kissed. It certainly wasn’t anything erotic, but fuck was it hot to see the man he cared about finally giving in to the woman he was growing to care for.
