by Paige Weaver
My smile died. I licked my dry lips as he stared at me. He seemed much more dangerous than he had three years ago.
I wanted to reach out and touch him, see if he was real. But I held still, afraid if I moved he would disappear like an apparition. I was overwhelmed with happiness but also scared. The man that stood in front of me was not the man I had left standing on my front porch. This man was harder. Less forgiving and more intense.
“Take off your hat,” he demanded, glaring at me.
With my heart pounding, I reached up and pulled my baseball cap off. My hair fell down around my shoulders, shorter than it had been when he knew me.
Cash took a step closer. I held my breath. My heart started pounding and my knees grew weak. I thought for sure I would faint when he reached out a hand toward me.
“Cat,” he whispered, picking up a curl from my shoulder, holding it like he was trying to prove I really existed.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Tate shouted, charging toward us.
Cash’s friend slapped a palm dead center against Tate’s chest, stopping him. “Not so fast, kid.”
Cash ignored Tate and raised his eyes to look at me. His thumb ran over the piece of my hair, caressing it. I felt time melt away. Something flickered in his eyes but then it was gone in seconds.
He dropped his hand from me and took a step back, one second looking stunned, the next looking distant and cold.
“Call your guard dog off, Cat,” Cash said in a low, deadly voice, staring at Tate from under his hat. “Tell him I won’t hurt you.”
I recovered from the jolt of seeing him and tilted my head to the side, drawing my brows together. “You snapped his gun out of his hand with one move and pulled a gun on me. I think he has the right to be jumpy.”
Cash’s cool eyes traveled over my body, peeling away my clothes with just one glance.
I forced myself to remain calm. I had learned long ago not to show fear. It only invited trouble and I realized that Cash might be trouble. The EMP and war had changed people, made them harder, more willing to do what they had to do to survive. No one was immune, not even someone like Cash Marshall.
He took a slow step toward me. The sound of acorns breaking was the only noise I could hear over my rapidly beating heart.
“The only one who has the right to be jumpy is me, Cat,” Cash said, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “I’m afraid my eyes are betraying me.”
I smiled but there was no humor in it. “They’re not,” I said, taking a step closer to him until our bodies almost touched. “Sorry to disappoint you. I know I’m the last person you ever expected to see again.”
“Oh, I’m not disappointed, sweetheart. Far from it. I’m just confused on what you’re doing with my sister.”
I shrugged, looking past him to the destruction he had left on the field. “Just raising some hell.”
I expected to see Cash’s lips turn up in that lopsided grin he always gave me. Instead he stayed stone cold serious.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” he growled low. “You and trouble just go together.”
With an icy glare at me, he turned to Keely. “How did you end up with these two, Keely?” he ground out, nodding toward me then Tate. “I mean, I know you always had a soft spot for strays but shit, this one bites and the other is foaming at the mouth to attack me.”
The smile slipped from my face, his words hitting too close to home. With wounded pride, I averted my gaze and watched as Keely hurried to remove the notepad from her jacket.
“What is she doing, Cash?” his black-haired friend asked, still keeping one eye on Tate.
Cash didn’t answer. He kept his gaze on Keely as she wrote something on her little notepad. She thrust it at him, shaking it to get his attention.
He glanced at me then took the notepad. I let my eyes roam over him as he read. His jeans still fit his body perfectly, outlining every muscle in his legs and ass. His jacket was missing a button or two. His boots were just as worn and dirty as they had been years ago and his cowboy hat looked like it had seen its share of fights. His jaw was leaner, dusted with dark whiskers. His hair was longer, brushing the tops of his ears and jacket collar. His hands were tougher looking, one of them still holding the shotgun with deadly purpose.
I wondered how many times he had killed like he had done today. How many times he had pulled the trigger and ended a person’s life without one hint of emotion. It was that new side of Cash that I was terrified of. The one I wasn’t sure I should trust.
He handed the notepad back to Keely and turned his cold eyes back on me. “She says you two were neighbors in Austin. That she’s been with you from the beginning.”
His voice was so flat and emotionless that I wanted to ask him what happened to that cowboy I had once known. The one that smiled at my brashness and laughed at my teasing. Instead, I raised my chin even higher and looked him straight in the eye.
“That’s right. We were neighbors,” I said.
A tick appeared in Cash’s jaw. His eyes skimmed over my lips before meeting my gaze again. “You got anything to add to that?”
I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest. “Not really.”
I refused to show how much he was affecting me. No way in hell would I let him know that my body was humming as if it was just yesterday that he had sat me on a bathroom counter and demanded that I watch in the mirror as he fucked me.
His eyes made a slow pass over my body, looking me up and down again. “Why isn’t Keely talking?” he asked, still cold as hell.
I opened my mouth to reply but Keely shook her head, pleading with her eyes for me not to say anything. I wasn’t sure staying quiet was the smartest thing to do; I had a feeling Cash would get his answer one way or another. But if Keely didn’t want him to know, I wouldn’t tell him.
I reached down and grabbed my knife from the ground, wiping the blood off in the grass. Cash stood still, waiting for me to answer. I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Not this time.
I met his stare stubbornly as I stuffed the blade back in the sheath I kept under my jacket. “We have about five minutes before these guys’ friends come looking for us. I suggest we leave,” I said, walking past him. If he could be cold, so could I.
I headed for Tate, ignoring Cash’s friend ogling me. I was almost to my brother when pain suddenly shot through my middle. I gasped and wrapped my arm around my waist.
“Hey? You okay?” Tate asked, rushing to me. He looked me up and down with worry. “That fucker hit you pretty hard.”
I waved him off, grimacing. The punch I had taken earlier from one of the men still hurt terribly but I would survive. I always did.
“I’m fine. How many bullets do you have left?” I asked, sucking in the pain and watching as he picked his gun up from the ground. He checked the chamber and started to answer me but footsteps sounded in the tall grass behind me.
“Which man hit you?” a chilling voice asked.
I turned around. Cash stood over me, looking dangerous and ready to kill.
I shrugged. “Does it matter? They’re all dead.”
He lifted his head just enough that I could see his cool gray eyes under the brim of his hat. “It matters, Cat.”
I kept my jaw clamped and met his arctic glare with one of my own. I didn’t want to tell him which one had hit me. I could take care of myself. My bloody knife proved it. But Tate seemed to disagree.
“That one over there. The one in the blue plaid jacket. He hit her,” he said, pointing to a body in the grass lying facedown. “Probably left some bruises too.”
I spun around to glare at Tate. “Really, Tate? Was that necessary?”
He shrugged, stuffing the gun in his waistband. “I was standing close, Cat. The guy whacked you hard.”
Without a word, Cash turned and headed straight for the prone man. I watched, a lump in my throat, as he turned the man over with the toe of his boot. I didn’t know if he was dead or not but he was lim
p, possibly just unconscious. My knife had sliced his arm but one of the bullets might have found him.
Cash kneeled down and checked for a pulse, keeping one hand on his shotgun.
“Is he dead?” Cash’s friend asked, standing near Keely.
Cash slowly stood up. Without pausing, he pointed his shotgun at the man and pulled the trigger. The sound ricocheted through the woods. Birds burst from the trees and flied away.
“He is now,” Cash said without emotion.
“Holy mackerel,” Tate said in an awed whisper, watching Cash cock his gun. “He’s a coldblooded S.O.B.”
I stood still, unable to move as Cash sauntered toward me. He was lethal. Cutthroat. More merciless than before. He hadn’t blinked or paused. He just shot the man like it was nothing.
His eyes held mine, the heat in them leaving me weak and speechless. I felt like I was the only one that existed in this godawful world. Just the two of us. Cash had been the only one that could do that to me and apparently he still did. Not even Luke had that ability. Just Cash. And after all this time – after years apart – I still responded to it.
Only for him.
He stopped a foot away, paying no attention to Tate beside me. “Where’s your camp?” he asked, his voice so smooth I wanted to bottle it up for the times he wasn’t around so I could remember it.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and let it go, calling myself crazy for still feeling something for him. “Umm…we holed up in a house near here,” I whispered, hating that I sounded so weak.
“Let’s go.” He turned and started to walk away, not giving me a second glance. Tate looked at me, waiting for me to do something. I stayed glued in place. I wasn’t sure what to do.
Cash grasped Keely’s elbow as he walked past her. I didn’t hear what he said to her, but she gave me a questioning look over her shoulder as he led her away.
His dark-haired friend picked a gun off of a dead man and stuffed it in the waistband of his jeans. With a glance at me, he turned and followed Cash and Keely.
“What do we do, sis?” Tate asked, as they walked away.
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision. “We go.”
Chapter Thirty–Five
Cat
Dust settled in and a strong storm descended by the time we left the woods. The wind had picked up and tall clouds moved in, darkening the sky. Trash blew through the streets, just left over remnants of the past.
I gathered my collar closer around my chin as a chill swept down the front of my jacket. I wished it didn’t have so many holes in it, but at least I had something to protect me from the cold. I bundled deeper into it as we walked, struggling against the wind. Each step I took made the knife bounce against my leg, reassuring me that I was prepared for anything.
Ominous clouds churned above us. I blinked against fat raindrops as I stared up at them. Tornados were as common in Texas as the blistering heat. If one was about to touch down, we were in a shitload of trouble.
I fought against the raging storm, hurrying to catch up with everyone. Tate was up ahead, leading the way. Cash’s friend followed, keeping his head ducked against the gusts of wind. Cash and Keely stayed together a few yards in front of me. He kept a hand on his cowboy hat to keep it from blowing away and a hand on Keely’s back, talking to her. I watched as she held the notebook tightly against the wind and wrote him a note then showed it to him.
One time she suddenly stopped and threw herself into his arms. I stayed back a few feet, giving them their privacy. Keely cried against Cash’s chest. I heard a few of the words he said to her. ‘Dad and mom…at peace.’ I knew without being told that they had lost family, just like me.
After a minute, Keely rubbed her eyes on her jacket and they continued walking. I tried not to stare at Cash’s back, but it was hard not to. He was more muscular than he had been three years ago. His body was harder and lined with unleashed power. He carried the gun like it was an extension of his arm. A weapon he would use without hesitation. To hurt. To maim. To kill the man that had hurt me.
I shivered and pushed back the strands of my hair whipping into my face. A strong gust hit me, knocking me back a step as if I weighted nothing.
As if he knew I was having trouble, Cash glanced over his shoulder at me. He motioned for Keely to follow Gavin then headed back for me, keeping his head lowered against the storm.
I held my hair back as he stopped by my side.
“I’ve got you,” he said near my ear, sliding his hand around to my waist. “I’m not going to let a storm carry you away from me.”
Clouds churned above us but inside a passion I long thought dead awoke in me.
With a hand on his hat and one around me, Cash led me on, fighting to walk against the wind and giving me the strength to go on.
We arrived at the house by the time the clouds opened up. Thunder boomed and rain fell as we walked around the big two-story house Keely, Tate, and I had been camping out in. Cash let go of me but stayed close by my side as we walked through mud and high weeds to the back door.
We had picked the house because of its location. It was on a cul-de-sac with nothing behind it but a small shed and an open field. Three other homes sat nearby, all empty and silent, each one already raided for supplies.
When we turned the corner of the house, I hurried faster, ready to get out of the rain. I was almost to the back door when Cash grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“You have a death wish? Stay behind me,” he demanded with a hard voice.
I huffed and frowned at him. I had taken care of myself for years. I wasn’t incapable of doing it anymore just because he was here.
He gave me another warning look then let me go and walked on ahead. I grumbled under my breath and followed him, staring crossly at his broad shoulders. Cash’s friend opened the back door as Tate and Cash kept an eye out for trouble. Nothing moved but the weeds whipping to and fro by the wind and the rain that fell and hit the ground.
As soon as the door was opened, we went inside, eager to get out of the raging storm. The house was dark and cold but I felt safer with a roof over my head and walls around me. It was a false sense of security, but I would take anything I could get.
I had only made it a few steps into the house when a strong hand grabbed my arm again.
“Stay put. Let me check it out,” Cash said, glancing around the shadowy kitchen we stood in.
I wanted to argue, stomp my feet and tell him I didn’t need him protecting me. But if he wanted to play the hero, I guess I would let him. If it kept Keely and Tate safe, he could do whatever he pleased.
Cash let me go and moved past me, leaving his dark-haired friend to keep watch. Rain had soaked Cash’s jeans and clothes, sticking them to his body. I kept my eyes glued to his back as he walked out of the kitchen, refusing to allow myself to check out how well his jeans might fit or how the wet material of his shirt clung to his sinewy muscles.
Seconds ticked by as we waited. Finally he came strolling back in, looking relaxed.
“It’s safe,” he said, glancing past me at his friend.
I didn’t need to hear anything else. I shot past Cash, leaving a trail of water on the floor. I was drenched and wanted to change clothes.
I immediately headed upstairs and went straight to the master bedroom. It was the room I had claimed a few days ago. A dark red blanket covered the queen bed and someone else’s clothes hung in the closet. They weren’t my things but behind the house’s solid brick walls, I could pretend the world was still the same. That there was no hunger. No heartache. No dying or killing. And I was just a girl living a normal life.
I shut the bedroom door behind me and started across the room, unbuttoning my jacket at the same time. I shrugged out of it and left it in a wet heap on the floor. I had already gone through the clothes that hung in the closet. I knew that only men’s jackets and jeans took up the space, but I had to get dry. My body was shaking and my teeth were chattering.
I
pulled off my shirt and started to peel my jeans down my legs when the bedroom door swung open. I squealed and spun around, expecting to find Cash but it was only Keely and she looked mad.
She slammed the door harder than necessary then stomped across the room.
“Keely, you scared the crap out of me,” I said on a rush of air, turning back to the closet to grab a hoodie. It was three times my size but it would be warm and dry.
I pulled it over my head at the same time she thrust her little notebook out at me.
“What?” I asked, tugging my wet hair out of the hoodie then grabbing the notebook.
She crossed her arms over her chest and started tapping her toe. I looked down at the note.
You know my brother? Why didn’t you tell me?
I felt all the blood leave my face. I wondered how long it would take for her to pick up on that.
I shoved the notebook back at her and moved past her. She followed right on my heels as I grabbed my backpack off the bed and started searching through it for an elastic hairband. Anything to avoid answering her.
She pushed her cracked glasses further up the bridge of her nose and pointed at the note impatiently. They were her fourth pair of eyeglasses. Whenever we broke into a house or convenience store the first thing she looked for were glasses. The second was paper or notepads. She hoarded both like Tate and I hoarded candy.
I stared at her as I gathered my wet hair into a ponytail and put the elastic band around it. What should I tell her? Oh, yeah, I know your brother. I fucked him a few years ago, but it meant nothing. Or at least it was supposed to mean nothing.
I had told her about Luke and how I had thought men and parties were the answer for my pain. She had told me about Nathan, writing it all out in her little notebook. She said that they fell for each other fast. That she missed him every day. Her and I had a bond that our new world couldn’t break. One cowboy wasn’t going to change that but no way in hell would I tell her that I had slept with her brother.
“Okay,” I admitted. “I knew him. I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter.”
