by M. J. Haag
Matt looked down at the ground for a minute.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked.
“About the theft? What could you have done? We weren’t home to witness who did it. Hopefully, they left some clues today, though. Or a blood trail.”
“A man died, Adam. Shot in the face.”
My stomach churned, but I remained silent beside Adam.
“I’m guessing he ignored my sign,” Adam said calmly.
Matt ran a hand through his hair. “You’re used to looking out for yourselves. I understand. But that’s not the way things work here. This is your only warning. No more traps.”
Then Matt raised his voice.
“The penalty for stealing supplies is exile. No exceptions.” He looked at Adam. “You lost your right to firearms.”
I could feel Adam tense and set my hand on his arm.
“Without those, you know we’re not safe,” Adam said.
“In here, you are. I’ll have the men patrolling the walls keep an extra eye on your house if you choose to go out again tomorrow.”
Matt turned away from us and started working his way through the crowd, talking to people.
Adam was so angry he was shaking with it on our way back to the house. There was blood on the porch and blood all over the kitchen.
“This is my mess,” he said when I saw it. “Go upstairs. I’ll clean it up.”
I didn’t listen and worked beside him, washing down the cabinets and scrubbing the floor. When we finished, Adam went to the cabinet under the TV and pulled out what we needed to make dinner. Neither of us said much. I hated that someone had died because of us. But I was well aware that the man, whoever he’d been, hadn’t been innocent. He’d ignored Adam’s warning and entered the house with the intention of stealing food.
“I’ll talk to Tor again about what it takes to get out of here,” Adam said, holding me that night. “This place isn’t safe.”
I agreed but wondered how the other place would be any safer once the people here found out there was a surplus of supplies over there.
It felt like I’d barely closed my eyes when a hand over my mouth startled me awake. I didn’t fight it, thinking it was Adam, until I opened my eyes and saw a masked head above me. I threaded my arm over the one pinning me and thrust downward, freeing my mouth as soft thuds and grunts echoed in the room.
The man swore and fell on top of me when I started to roll away. His weight pinned me to the mattress long enough for him to grab my hair and pull back. Hard. I opened my mouth to scream and choked on the sock he shoved in it.
That didn’t stop me from doing everything possible to get free. Fear and adrenaline fueled my efforts.
“Help me,” a voice said harshly.
Hands grabbed my feet. Another body weighed down my lower half. Panic overrode common sense. I forgot everything and just struggled to draw in my next breath.
“Smart girl,” a voice whispered next to my ear when I stopped moving. “This was for Wayne.”
The noises silenced, and the weight left me. I lay for a minute, crying, before I carefully lifted myself from the mattress. When I made it to the light, I cried harder at the sight of Adam on the floor. His face was bleeding, and his eyes were closed.
Kneeling next to him, I set my shaking fingers to his neck and felt his thrumming pulse. A pained sound escaped me. He was alive but beaten so badly his face was already swelling. I stood and went for a cold, wet washcloth. He didn’t make a sound when I set it over his eyes.
I dried my tears and stood, debating what to do. For all I knew, the men were still in the house, cleaning us out. Even if they weren’t, I didn’t trust them not to come back and finish what they’d started.
That decided me.
Our attackers had proven I posed no threat. I couldn’t protect Adam, no matter how much I wanted to. Leaving him on the floor, I pulled on my pants and grabbed my knives before quietly making my way toward the front door. The house was quiet and everything untouched.
Trusting nothing, I ran as soon as I was outside. Adam had pointed out Matt’s house the day before. I didn’t stop until I was at the man’s door, alternating between ringing the bell and pounding on the wooden surface.
The lights turned on inside.
“I’m coming,” Matt yelled.
I could see him running through the window.
He jerked the door open, his gaze sweeping over me, and he swore.
“What happened?”
“They broke in and beat Adam. It’s bad. He’s bleeding, and he’s breathing so shallowly I had to check for a pulse to make sure he’s alive.”
Matt swore again and waved for me to come in.
“I can’t,” I said. “He needs help.”
“And I’m getting it for him. Don’t move.”
He hurried back into the house and turned on a radio.
“It’s Matt. There’s a problem. I need Cassie.”
A voice immediately responded.
“We will send Kerr.”
“Hurry.”
Matt grabbed his jacket and jogged toward me. Instead of heading in the direction of our house, he veered toward the wall.
“We need to let the fey know where to go,” he explained before I could ask. He yelled instructions to the guards then ran with me back to the house.
It was as quiet as it’d been when I’d left, and Adam lay in the same spot.
Matt knelt beside him and lifted the washcloth. Then he leaned down close, his ear near Adam’s nose and mouth.
“Get more of these,” he said, indicating the washcloth as he straightened.
For the next several minutes, Matt asked me questions as we worked. Did I see anyone or anything identifying? Would I recognize their voices? Was there anyone who stood out as overly angry when we’d returned? Nothing I could say helped solve who had attacked us, other than it was clearly in retaliation for the man who’d died because of Adam’s trap.
Matt and I lapsed into silence, and I gently washed away the blood on Adam’s face while Matt cushioned his head with a folded towel.
“Matt?”
The suddenly loud voice made me jump.
“Up here,” Matt answered.
Feet echoed on the stairway, and I looked up as a woman with red hair entered.
“What happened?” she asked, already bending to run a hand along Adam’s swelling right leg.
“A group of men broke in and beat him,” Matt said.
The fey behind her grunted, crossing his arms. His gaze flicked to me as I moved out of the woman’s way.
“Adam hit his head a few days ago,” I said. “He was out for a while and asked the same questions over and over again for a few hours afterward. Threw up, too.”
“Do you know if they hit his head?”
“I don’t know. They held me down. I couldn’t see anything.”
The fey growled.
“Stay objective and focused, Kerr,” the woman said.
“We haven’t moved him,” I said. “Based on the sounds, I’m guessing they were hitting and kicking. The area over his ribs is pretty red. I’m worried something might be broken.”
“I don’t like the idea of moving him, either.”
The woman opened the bag she carried and pulled out scissors. Chewing my bottom lip and trying not to cry, I watched her cut away Adam’s t-shirt, sleep shorts, and boxers. Bruises were already forming everywhere, including his hips and ribs. She eased the clothes free and gently started feeling everything.
“I’m not a doctor,” she said as she looked up at me. “I’m a nursing student who has learned more in these last few months than I ever did in school. I want you to know that because everything I’m going to tell you is a guess.”
I nodded.
“The cut over his eye should be fine without stitches. Chances are good that something’s broken. If we’re lucky, it’s his nose and a cracked rib or collarbone. Those tend to fix themselves. Bruising means broken cap
illaries and blood rising to the surface. He’s going to have a lot of that. Again, if we’re lucky, outside bruising is the worst of it. Internal bleeding is beyond my skill set.
“The best we can do now is make him comfortable, keep using these cold washcloths, maybe even some bags with snow, and hope he wakes up within the next twenty-four hours.” She stood and came close to where I was sitting on the bed.
“I’d like to talk to you alone for a minute if that’s okay.”
I nodded and stood.
“Kerr,” she said. “Help Matt get Adam into bed. Move his limbs and joints, including his head and neck, as little as possible. If he makes any noise, stop what you’re doing. Okay?”
The fey nodded and started bending down.
“Stay objective and focused,” she said, touching the back of his head as we moved past them.
As soon as she closed the bathroom door behind us, I knew what she was going to ask.
“Did they sexually assault you?”
I shook my head even as tears started to fall. She opened her arms, and I flew into her embrace, sobbing out my fear. Fear that they’d come back. Fear that Adam wouldn’t wake up this time. Fear that I’d made the wrong decision. That we should have stayed in the bunker and waited for the infected to leave.
She let me cry for several minutes before easing away from me. Her eyes were wet, too, as she gave me a sad smile.
“I wish I could give you the assurances you need. What I can say is that he’s young, in good shape, and not underfed. That all works to his advantage.”
“I know. Thank you.”
When we left the bathroom, Kerr was standing in the hallway. His expression was one of sheer anger.
“Is he okay?” I asked, already moving to the bed.
“Did something happen?” the woman asked from behind me.
I didn’t look back at the pair but studied Adam’s swollen face and gently ran my fingers along his throat.
“He was rolled up defensively,” I said, talking to myself. “That means they missed his throat and hopefully his stomach and laid into his legs and back and…” I pictured the position in my head and gently ran my fingers along his forearms, feeling the bumps there. “He needs snow.”
I stood and jumped slightly when I saw the redhead behind me.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“Don’t be. It’s understandable. Matt already went outside for snow.”
Only a moment passed before I heard him in the hall.
“Got it,” he said, stepping into the room. He held a bowl in one hand and a baggy in the other.
“Clean baggies only,” the woman said. “No dirty snow on open wounds.”
I nodded, already grabbing handfuls of snow and making bags for Adam’s arms.
“Would you mind if one of my brothers stayed here with you?” Kerr asked, speaking for the first time.
I glanced up and gave him a small smile.
“Not at all. I’d feel a lot safer, actually.”
He glanced at Matt.
“No argument here,” Matt said.
Chapter Five
I jolted upright, instantly awake, at the sound of Adam’s groan.
“Adam?” I said softly. “It’s June.”
“Thirsty,” he rasped.
“Okay. Hang on. I’ll get you something.”
I ran downstairs. The fey who’d stayed behind to watch over Adam and me didn’t say anything when I whacked a towel full of ice cubes against the counter and emptied the shards into a cup. However, he did follow me back upstairs.
“Adam?” I said again as I approached the bed. “Are you still thirsty?
“Mmmhmm.”
“I have some ice chips. We don’t want you lifting your head yet. Okay? Just open your mouth, and I’ll give you a few.”
His lips parted, and I wanted to cry when I saw he was not only understanding my words but also responding to them. I fed him chips until his lips stayed closed and his breathing became deeper.
I wiped my eyes and glanced out the window at the predawn light. It was hard to know how long he’d been out when I wasn’t even sure how long we’d slept before the men had snuck in. But he had to have been unconscious longer than when he’d hit his head the first time, and that worried me. As did the bruising that colored his face.
“Would you mind getting more snow?” I asked the fey without looking away from Adam.
“I will fill two bowls from the roof.”
“Thank you.”
The fresh snow bags didn’t get another response from Adam, and I tried not to be disappointed. Instead, I sat beside him and watched the sun slowly rise.
A knock on the front door startled me from my exhausted stupor.
I hurried downstairs just as the fey opened it. The new fey’s familiar gaze flicked to me, and he lifted a box.
“I found a bag with flames for Adam.”
“That is so sweet of you, Tor,” I said, tears welling. “Thank you for thinking of him.”
Both men stared at me for a long moment then shared a glance.
“Should I take them back?” Tor asked.
“No. When Adam wakes up, he’s going to appreciate them. Come in.”
He brought the box to the kitchen and set it on the counter.
“Cassie sent some other things. She said the chips might not be what he wants first.” He held up several brown packets of instant oatmeal. “Adam and I liked the same things. These taste bad.”
I laughed a little. “Oatmeal isn’t his favorite. But he’ll eat it just fine.”
“Are you going out again today?” I asked Tor.
“No. I wanted to help Adam.”
“Come on. I wouldn’t mind some sleep if you’re willing to watch him for me.”
Tor looked at the other fey. “Did anyone come back?”
“No. It was quiet. Should I stay?”
They both looked at me.
“I don’t think both of you are necessary. Besides, I’m sure you’re as tired as I am. Thank you for all your help last night.”
He nodded and left. I stared at the closed door for a tired second.
“I forgot to ask his name.”
“It is Brog.”
Brog, the same fey who’d held Adam in the truck. I felt like an ass for not recognizing him. I needed to start paying more attention to them.
“I hope he doesn’t think that I was being a snob. Everything’s been…” I shook my head. “Will you tell him I’m sorry for not remembering his name?” I asked, looking up at Tor.
“He understands you are not a snob.”
I nodded and led the way to the bedroom and quickly explained what happened to Adam, where his worst injuries were, and what I’d been doing to help him. Tor sat in the chair I’d occupied and watched me pull back the covers on the other side of the bed.
“If he makes a sound, I’ll probably hear. But if I don’t, please wake me up,” I said, sliding under the covers.
Tor grunted, and I gave him a tired smile. This time, while looking at him, I noted the differences in Tor’s features. His eyes were forest green around the edges and golden-yellow toward the middle. Paired with his dark, thick lashes, he had really pretty eyes, not that he would appreciate hearing that. His nose was just a bit broader than Brog’s, too. And he had a thin scar running along the underside of his eyebrow. Almost unnoticeable…unless staring tiredly at the man.
I blinked and lightly rested my fingers on Adam’s shoulder so I would feel him if he moved.
“Thank you for this, Tor. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re watching over both of us.”
“Sleep, June. You are safe.”
I looked at Adam one last time and closed my eyes.
The soft murmur of voices woke me sometime later. I lifted my head and looked at Adam. The hope that he’d woken withered when I saw his washcloth-covered eyes. Gently touching his cheek, I eased from the bed and followed the sound to the kitchen where Tor was at the door with th
e woman he’d carried to Tenacity a few days ago.
“Hi, June,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Tor was just saying you were resting. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. Can I help you?”
“I’m Emily. I live over in Tolerance. Mya, the unwilling leader of the human half of Tolerance, heard what happened to you and your boyfriend. She wants you to know you’re both welcome in Tolerance once Adam is able to travel.”
“That’s great. Thank you,” I said, trying to sound grateful. I knew Adam would be happy about the news. I just wished it would have happened a day sooner.
“You look like you could use a shower and maybe a little distraction. Why don’t you let Tor keep an eye on Adam and go take care of yourself for a bit while I make you something to eat?”
I stared at her for a moment then glanced at Tor. What did it say about me that an offer of help from one of my own kind felt wrong?
“Sure. That sounds good,” I forced myself to say.
Tor followed me to the master bedroom and sat with Adam while I grabbed a change of clothes and closed myself in the bathroom. I looked like hell. The dark circles under my eyes showed just how little sleep I’d had. The hot water helped revive me a bit as did the scent of the shampoo. It was sweet and reminded me of summer and better times.
Dressed in comfortable sweatpants, a sports bra, and a long-sleeved shirt, I left the bathroom.
“Did he wake up while I was sleeping?” I asked softly.
“He said he was thirsty once. I made the ice chips like you said. He ate a few and fell asleep again.”
“That’s good. Why didn’t you wake me?”
He glanced at Adam. “Would he have woken you?”
I smiled slightly. “No, he would not. He would have wanted me to sleep.”
“I felt the same,” Tor said.
I reached out and gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, and I left the room to see what Emily was cooking that smelled so good.
“I smuggled in a box of cake mix,” she said when she saw me. “Complete with frosting.” She gestured for me to sit as she scooped something non-cake-like into a bowl.
