Rachel exhaled. Damn. She looked back up and locked eyes with Sebastian. “Here’s the plan. In a few hours, we’ll all go back, together. All right? You can meet the men I live with, meet Adam again.” She stumbled on those last words and paused. What if Adam wasn’t there? Oh hell, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. One thing at a time. “Sebastian, you can see for yourself I was in no danger. And maybe you’ll even want to move in with us, and then we can all live together.”
Sebastian’s face hardened. “There isn’t a chance in hell of that happening.”
“Do you know that the two nuclear power plants on the coast could go Chernobyl at any moment? Do you know that they could spew radiation on us at any time? Are you ready for that?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened.
“We’re ready for that at the farm. You need to come and stay with us. We can take care of each other. Survivors need to stick together,” she told him, stating her favorite motto.
His jaw clenched. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“So I’ve been told,” she agreed with a smile.
Sebastian’s gaze slid to Phoebe. Phoebe nodded to him in encouragement. He blew out a breath and looked back at Rachel. “Okay, but if we do this, no one and I mean no one gets near Phoebe and Josie unless I say so. And if I don’t like it, we’re outta there.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, putting her hand out so they could shake on it.
He ignored her outstretched arm, stalked off to the storage shed and slammed the door shut behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Don’t worry about Sebastian. He blows up easily. He’ll get over it,” Phoebe chatted happily, her trendy sandals clicking on the pathway as they walked toward the house next door. “After he’s had time to calm down and think about it, I’m sure we’ll end up doing exactly what you suggested. I’m really excited to go, to see other survivors and meet other people. Like you said, survivors need to stick together.”
“Who do you live with?” Josie asked. “Who? Are they bad guys? Why would you live with bad guys, Rachel?”
“No, I live with three men and they’re not bad guys, honey,” Rachel answered absently, her eyes on the large custom home they were approaching. “Sebastian just thinks they are.”
They were following a curved brick pathway across an elaborately landscaped—but dead—front yard. The grass was yellow and overgrown, the bushes dry and brittle. All the flowers had disintegrated. Phoebe reached for the handle of the distinguished front door to the Spanish-style home. Rachel stiffened. “Wait,” she blurted out.
Rule number one: never enter a building without checking first for dead bodies.
“Phoebe, are there any corpses here, did you…?”
“Don’t worry,” Phoebe said, immediately understanding what Rachel was trying to communicate. “We burned all the bodies before we moved in and scrubbed the place from top to bottom. It’s safe here.”
“Oh, good.” Rachel exhaled and smiled at her. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure how long you’d been here, maybe you just moved in today.”
“No, we’ve been living here for a week. It’s okay, come inside, you’ll like it.”
They walked through the tiled entryway and into a large, comfortable family-kitchen-dining room combo, light, airy and open with a wall of windows flooding the area with sunlight. Everything was new and shiny, like the house had been a staged model. Granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, cherry cabinets. A scented candle, smelling faintly of sugar cookies, glowed on the counter. And all over the place were girly things. Racks of clothes, boxes of jewelry, shoes, make-up. It was practically a department store.
“Oh, this is wonderful.”
“Before the outbreak, I used to own a boutique.” Phoebe shrugged. “I couldn’t help it, after stocking up on the essential stuff like food and water, my brain had to have clothes. Sebastian collected different things from L.A.; this is what I collected.”
“Phoebe?” Josie shouted.
“What, baby?”
“Can I play with the make-up again?”
“Yeah, go ahead. Just don’t touch the Dior, okay?” Phoebe turned back to Rachel. “I found her first when I was out trying to find anyone else alive,” she whispered as Josie skipped over to a large make-up case. “She was dirty and starving, hiding in a car with her dead mother. It was just the two of us those first few days, before I met up with Sebastian.” Rachel watched Phoebe shake her head, as if she were trying to shake off a bad memory. She pasted on a smile and walked over to the clothes rack in the middle of the front room. “Okay, enough of that. We’ve got plenty of time to tell all of our sob stories later, don’t we? How about right now we concentrate on getting you ready? I’ve got something over here I think you’ll love.”
As promised, forty minutes later, Phoebe had worked her magic. She’d pushed Rachel into a cold shower, frowned at Rachel’s Glock and primly set it aside. They’d talked and talked. Rachel told Phoebe all about her relationship with Adam and admitted to her what had happened earlier that day between Adam and Christian.
“Congratulations, you’re going to have a baby. That’s so wonderful. But do you want me to kick Adam’s ass for you when I meet him?” she’d asked. “That man needs some sense knocked into him.”
Perfect girlfriend response. God, it was great to have a woman to talk to.
Phoebe blew Rachel’s hair out, silky and straight, applied more make-up than Rachel had ever worn in her life, and dressed her in a get-up straight out of a movie. Rachel laughed with delight as she turned in front of the mirror again to see how her new, red silk shirt exposed her whole back, one horizontal cord keeping the two sides in balance. Black leather pants barely covered the top of her ass, and she wobbled in shiny black heels.
“I can’t believe this. I’ve never worn anything this sexy before.” Even her thickening waist, which was barely noticeable in the outfit, couldn’t diminish the sexy.
“That’s not true, those pajamas of yours were terrible, but your underwear was hot.”
Rachel blushed. It was true. She had a thing for bras and panties. She always had.
Phoebe put her hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “You look fabulous, m’dear,” she said, sounding just like the boutique owner she claimed to have been.
“I don’t know,” Rachel exclaimed. “I can hardly walk. How in the heck did Carrie run around Manhattan in these things?”
“You’ll learn,” Phoebe said. “Walking in Jimmy Choos is an art. I’ll teach you.”
“Where am I going to hide my Glock?” Rachel pursed her lips.
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe you’re carrying that gun. Here, let me help you.” When they were all done, the gun fit at her hip, covered by a slight billow of the silk shirt as it dropped over her waist. Perfect.
They both stood in front of the mirror for a moment. Rachel couldn’t believe what she saw. She looked…different. It was the first time in her life she’d ever looked at herself in the mirror and been pleased at her own reflection. Happy with the whole package—the clothes, the make-up, the hair. It was wonderful.
“Thank you,” she whispered, emotion clogging her throat.
“You’re welcome.” Phoebe hugged her. “You’re gorgeous, girl. Own it. I’ll show you all the tricks… Hold on.” Phoebe stepped back and leaned out of the bathroom door. “Josie!”
“Yes,” came a mumbled reply. Josie stood next to the door with a cookie stuffed in her mouth.
“Oh, sorry, honey, I didn’t know you were right there. Can you run out and tell Sebastian we’re ready to go?”
“Sure.” Josie nodded vigorously and darted down the hall.
“Josie, wait,” Phoebe added. “Tell him we’re all going, all four of us.”
“Okay,” Josie shouted before she ran out the front door.
/> Rachel and Phoebe left the bathroom together, Rachel still fingering her silky shirt. It was a work of art. Phoebe began carefully putting away the designer clothes draped across the couches. “Can I ask you something?” Rachel said.
“Fire away,” Phoebe answered as she flicked through hangers.
“Is Sebastian your boyfriend?”
Phoebe hands stilled. “No,” she replied slowly. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Really? You know when we pulled up, the way you were looking at each other…well, at first I thought you were together.”
Phoebe sucked in a breath. She turned her head to meet Rachel’s eyes. “That’s what you thought?”
“Yeah, Sebastian was a big grouch up until the moment we pulled up. Then he changed right before my eyes. He lit up like a candle when he saw you two. He practically jumped out of the car to get to you.”
Phoebe smiled and shook her head. “That’s sweet. But it doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
Shots rang out. Both of them whipped around. The heavy front door flew open with a thud and three men crowded the entrance. Three big men with guns, dressed in jeans and black leather and looking like they’d just stepped off the set of Sons of Anarchy.
“Aha,” one of them yelled. “Women. Just what we’ve been looking for.”
Holy shit. It was them, some of the same men she’d seen in Oxnard over two months ago.
Rachel watched in horror as the three heavily tattooed men in leather vests dragged Sebastian, tied and beaten, and tossed him on the shiny hardwood floor in the entry way. Josie screamed, struggling to get free, but one of the men held her by the arm. Rachel took a step back, bumping into the clothes rack. Her heart raced, her breaths short and choppy. The man let go of Josie and shoved her forward. Phoebe ran to her and wrapped the girl in her arms.
“You can have anything you want from the truck. Don’t hurt the women,” Sebastian gasped from the floor.
“We don’t want any of your fucking crap,” one of the men said. Rachel quickly decided this couldn’t be a dream. Oh hell, no. She knew how this would play out. They were there for one thing and one thing only.
Sex.
One of the men was reasonably young and fit and wore his black, greasy hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with a red bandana wrapped across his forehead. “It’s the fucking end of the world and everyone’s dead,” he said. “Money doesn’t matter anymore, asshole, we can have anything we want. But women—” he jabbed a finger at Rachel and Phoebe and smiled a tight, mean smile, “—now that’s different. There’s men left on Earth, but women—” he shrugged, “—well, you two ladies happen to be the first females we’ve seen alive in months.”
“And the girl,” said one of the assholes, licking his lips as he eyed Josie. He was shorter than the others and his gut stuck out over his belt buckle. “She counts too. Don’t you, honey?”
Josie whimpered and hid behind Phoebe.
“See, ladies,” the guy with the ponytail continued, “the three of us here haven’t had pussy in years, seeing as how we busted out of prison the moment the guards died. So as you can see, we’re a little desperate for some fucking. If there’s only two young, beautiful, women left on the planet, well, we thought we’d better get in on that quick.”
“Been watching you at that farm,” he said to Rachel. “We heard the radio broadcast, but thought we’d scout the place out first. We saw you, but we couldn’t get in to grab you. That big fucker and the other two men you live with had that place locked down tight. But then we watched this asshole here drug you and drag you out of there. We followed you and found out he had two women.” He kicked Sebastian in the ribs. “Thanks, man. That was a big help.”
“Oh, fuck, no,” snarled Sebastian. “You’re not touching them, you motherfucking bastards.”
“And what the fuck are you goin’ to do about it, asshole?” The guy plowed a vicious kick into Sebastian’s gut. Sebastian moaned and curled into a ball of pain.
“Leave him alone!” Phoebe screamed. “Don’t hurt him.” Tears streamed down her face. Rachel watched Phoebe take a deep, steadying breath and straighten her back, ready for a fight. “I understand what you’re saying,” she said, swallowing. “You need a woman. So…I’ll go with you. I’ll go. Leave the girl behind with him.” She tilted her head in Rachel’s direction. “And leave her too. I’ll go with you. I won’t fight, I won’t argue. I’ll do everything you want. I promise. Just leave the three of them behind.”
What did Phoebe think she was doing? “Oh, hell—” Rachel started to say.
“Well, shit. That’s a good idea,” Ponytail cut her off. He cocked his head to the side. “Having one who’s willing, rather than two who aren’t.”
“But I want that one,” said the short guy. He pointed at Rachel with a big knife, as if he were shopping out of a catalogue. “And the girl. I want the girl too.”
“Earl, that’s some sick shit. Let’s leave the girl behind with the guy, like the woman wants.”
“But I want her,” Earl whined.
Rachel noticed the biggest guy in the trio had been quiet during this exchange. This was the same freak who had calmly executed a man and tried to lead a gang rape on a woman.
What would they do to Sebastian? To her and Phoebe?
He held back in the entryway, next to the front door, watching, evaluating. “Nice try, lady,” he finally spoke as he stepped forward and joined the conversation. The other two men shut up and turned to listen. Rachel knew then he was obviously the brains of their fucked-up organization. “You’re all going with us,” he rumbled. “The girl is coming too, as collateral. You two say no to us, she dies. And that’s not an empty threat. I’m fucking serious. You say no to one damn thing, no matter how much it’s out of your goddamn comfort zone, she’s dead, understood?” He said all of this with a deep, gravelly voice. The kind used for voice-overs on TV. He had that gray-haired, Sam Elliott in Mask look going on. It didn’t seem right at all that a man this evil could have a voice that smooth. She glared a hole through him and jerked her chin up. Phoebe gave them a shaky nod.
“And, Earl, you’re not fucking touching that girl unless I tell you.”
“But I want her—” Earl whined.
“I don’t give a shit what you want, you touch her, and I’ll kill you myself. Roger and I, we don’t put up with that shit. You knew the plan, stick to it. Now go bring the van around, get it ready for transport.”
Roger, of the black ponytail, stepped forward, got in Phoebe’s face and brushed a finger along her cheek. Phoebe stood frozen in fear, her eyes wide and luminous, her face pale. “You’re mine,” Roger told her. “Been watchin’ you, girl, wonderin’ what you’d feel like underneath me.”
Rachel’s stomach soured and bile rose in her throat.
“Get your fucking hand off her,” Sebastian exploded. He contorted on the floor, spit flying out of his mouth. “You touch her and I’ll kill you.”
“For chrissakes.” Their leader sighed. “Knock that cocksucker out before I do it myself.”
Roger whipped Sebastian across the temple with the butt of his gun, knocking him out cold.
Their leader, the Sam Elliott-looking guy, turned his attention to Rachel. He narrowed his steel-blue eyes. “You’ve been quiet this whole time, girly,” he said with an undeniably sensual voice. “You scared or just pissed off?”
“Pissed off,” she replied between gritted teeth.
“Good, I don’t care much for scared.” He stepped close and his gaze roved down, lingering at her breasts. A cold smile spread across his attractive face. “What’s your name?”
“Rachel.”
“Huh.” He grunted. “This one is mine,” he turned and told the others. “You two can share the other one.”
“I’m not yours,” she said, keeping her hand poi
sed near her hip, near her gun. “I’m Adam’s.”
He paused. Looked her over. “Adam that big fucker back at your farm?”
She gave him a curt nod. “Yes, and he’s a decorated Marine. A sniper. He’s going to find you, you know. If you take us, he’ll find you and kill you.”
His smile disappeared. “Sorry to break this to you girly, but where we’re going, your man is never going to find you. Name’s Spike. You’re stuck with me, so get used to sayin’ it.”
The door opened and Earl poked his head in. “Van’s ready, let’s get the hell outta here. Her three men gotta be looking for her.”
Spike snapped his fingers. “Come on, ladies, we’re outta here.”
“Just a sec, sweet thing.” Spike grabbed Rachel’s arm before she could pass by him. “I watched you out there at your farm, doing target practice, learning to shoot.” He started patting her down. “If I was your man, after all that training and knowin’ you were such a precious package, I’d always make sure you were packin’. Aha…here we go.” He pulled her Glock out of her waistband, the pepper spray out of her pocket and handed them off to Roger.
She gaped at him.
He winked back. “Not as stupid as I look.”
Chapter Thirty
Fuck, he’d been a monumental asshole.
Adam turned off the ignition and steeled himself to get out of the truck. First, he needed to get back inside and apologize to Rachel. His emotions had raged out of control, and he’d said things he shouldn’t. Now he needed to make it right with her. Second, he needed to have it out with Christian and figure out what the hell had really happened, why Christian was so angry.
And third…he just needed to get his head out of his ass before he lost the woman who meant more to him than anyone else.
There was a child coming into the world. They should be throwing a damn party, not arguing.
He’d driven around, tearing down back roads for an hour and then jogging up hillsides for an hour longer, pushing past the pain, past his limit, until he moved on to a place of utter exhaustion. Every time he’d imagined them alone, Christian touching his woman and Rachel responding…rage boiled up inside, rage like he’d never known. It was so out of his control, the idea of them sneaking around, fucking behind his back.
Die for You Page 25
