Beyond Ecstasy (Beyond #8)

by Kit Rocha

  “Mmm, when you get back. Which reminds me…” She dropped her hand and dug through her pocket before pulling out a folded piece of paper. “For you. Dallas wanted me to send along a list of things, just in case you knew where to find them.”

  He shifted the basket to one hand and unfolded the paper. A cursory glance revealed the pattern. “Medicinal plants?”

  She nodded. “Just in case. We're stockpiling gel and meds, but if we lose Five, they'll go fast. We need a backup plan.”

  Most of the stuff on the list would be easy to find. Some he knew his family had growing in their garden already—real medication was still expensive, even if your farm headquartered a crew of smugglers. And there was still time to plant more. Plenty of other farms might be willing to contribute in exchange for a few bottles of precious O'Kane whiskey.

  But the list was more than practicalities. It was an opportunity. “Maybe you should come with me.”

  Her denial was immediate. “No, you're going to see your family. I'd be intruding.”

  “Jeni.” He liked the way her gaze locked on his when he said her name like that. Firm. “Lots of people live there. A handful of my stepmothers, dozens of siblings, more nieces and nephews than I can keep track of, and probably about seven new in-laws since the last time I visited. And Shipp's crew on top of it. If you're scared to face that sort of chaos, I wouldn't blame you. But you won't be intruding.”

  “And your mother,” she retorted. “Your mother lives there, Hawk.”

  She said it like it mattered more than all the rest, and maybe it should. But his mother had been barely old enough to have children when she'd given birth to him. She'd always been more of an overprotective big sister than a parent, and even that had mellowed once he'd come back to the farm with Shipp.

  Alya would notice. She wasn't stupid. But he couldn't believe she'd give Jeni a hard time. “She's fine. She'll love you. Ask Trix.”

  “That's not the same.”

  “Fair enough.” He cupped Jeni's cheek, savoring the silk of her skin under his fingertips. “Trust me, just this far. Maybe if you see where I come from, you'll know whether or not you can trust me all the way.”

  She closed her eyes as a fine shiver ran through her. “All right. Show me where you come from, Hawk.”

  He could have her now, right here amongst the plants and the dirt. Up against the greenhouse or over one of the tables or standing right where they were, with her legs around him, using all that dancer's strength to ride him—

  He could have her, but it wouldn't be what it could be, what he'd seen between Jasper and Noelle—the firm hand and soft sighs and quiet trembling. The absolute trust that made everything deeper and darker but also perfect.

  That was what he'd been missing all his life, ever since the first, furtive time. Secret, forbidden affairs fueled passion, sure. And then they broke hearts and ruined lives.

  Hawk moved his thumb to Jeni's lower lip. He could still feel the curve of it pressed against his mouth, still remember how she'd tasted. When her lips parted beneath his touch, a thousand shameful possibilities roared up inside him. Things he would have been ashamed to want before he met the O'Kanes.

  If he was honest with himself, things he was still ashamed to want.

  “I'll arrange it,” he whispered, as if lowering his voice could hide the roughness. He had to get away from her before his control slipped again. This time, it wouldn't end with kissing. He'd have her on her knees, her soft, pretty lips around his cock. Sucking him off, even if the whole damn gang lined up to watch.

  Fuck, especially if they lined up to watch.

  “Thank you.” The words kissed his thumb, but before he could give in to the urge to edge the tip between her lips, she took the basket and walked away.

  His jeans were too snug. His entire fucking body was coiled tighter than it had been last night before his fight. They'd be out in Six for a few days. A week, at most.

  A week to prove she could trust him. And then they'd find out how deep into his shame-laced fantasies she wanted to go.

  Chapter Four

  The farms at the outer edge of Sector Six were beautiful, like something out of a kids' storybook. The gently rolling hills had been cleared of scrub and planted in lush green plots, some with crops and others with grass for grazing animals. Cabins and barns dotted the landscape, and people milled around them, carrying out their midmorning chores.

  This was Hawk's home, a quiet, peaceful world so far removed from the city that it might as well be on another planet.

  They passed a fenced-off gravel road that wound toward a large farmhouse perched on a hill, and Hawk nodded toward it. “That's Anderson's farm. They're our closest neighbors. Three of my stepmothers are Andersons.”

  She blinked. “So some of your brothers and sisters are also cousins?”

  “Sounds more fucked up than it is. I told you, the head wife keeps records on everyone's bloodlines.” He snorted. “Probably next to the ones they keep on the cows and horses. We're all good, hardy stock. Bred to be tough.”

  Jeni barely managed not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. “No romance. You weren't kidding.”

  “They don't have time for romance. It's a hard life. You work until you can't take another step, or you have babies until it kills you.”

  It cast the lush green land in a whole new light—a sickly pallor that raised goose bumps on Jeni's arms. “That's terrible.”

  “It's the reality. Eden's tithes are so high…” He exhaled roughly. “Shipp saved us from that. The smuggling runs make enough money to buy us some breathing room. But the only real hope is for Dallas to pull off this revolution.”

  It was easy to think of the fight against Eden in strict, direct terms now—if they didn't defeat the city, they'd all be crushed, or worse. But it had started because of the city slowly encroaching on the livelihood of the surrounding sectors. They always wanted more—more food, more energy, more of the resources sector-dwellers gave their time, effort, and sometimes blood to procure or produce.

  “Dallas will win,” she told Hawk confidently. “There's no other option I'm willing to consider.”

  “If anyone can pull it off, it's him.” Hawk shifted gears as they started up a curving hill. “Get ready. When we reach the top, you'll be able to see the farm.”

  What lay in the valley before them looked like the rest of the area, but with one difference that proved the truth of Hawk's words—smuggling had been very, very good to them. Besides the cars that clustered around a barn back beyond the main house, there were pieces of fairly modern equipment that Jeni hadn't seen at the other farms.

  Her jittery nerves had calmed a bit, soothed by the rough but velvet cadence of Hawk's voice. They returned now with a vengeance as people turned to watch their approach.

  “Steady,” he murmured, resting one hand on her leg. His palm was massive, large enough to engulf her knee, and his touch burned even through her clothes. “You're an O'Kane, honey. You eat backwoods farmers for breakfast.”

  He was teasing her, and she couldn't resist throwing it right back at him. “Just the ones I really like.”

  His fingers tightened, and his voice lowered. “You gonna eat me for breakfast, Jeni?”

  Even with the windows down, there was no air in the car. “Wouldn't dream of it,” she rasped. “I mean, you've got plans for me, right?”

  “Oh yeah.” He steered with one hand, guiding them down the hill as his thumb teased suggestive circles on the outside of her knee. “You have no idea.”

  Maybe this was what he'd been waiting for, what he needed. To get her on familiar territory, someplace where he was comfortable enough to open up in spite of the differences between them.

  She would have asked, but the front door of the main house opened, and a tall woman stepped out. Jeni had spent most of her life around powerful women, and there was no mistaking this one's posture or the air of command that surrounded her.

  Everything here was hers.

/>   Hawk coasted to a stop and parked the car. Then he was out the door before Jeni could say a word, circling to open the passenger side for her.

  He held out his hand to help her. She took it automatically, but all thoughts of letting go again vanished the moment his fingers wrapped around hers. It was one point of contact, chaste by anyone's standards, but something about the way he looked down at her as she climbed from the car…

  Her skin heated, and everything else disappeared. They were alone in the world, wreathed in a tension so palpable that it connected them as surely as their clasped hands.

  Then he smiled and tugged her toward the farmhouse. “Come meet Alya.”

  The words broke through the sensual haze, and she willed herself not to blush as they turned toward the porch. The woman standing there had hints of Hawk in her features. They had the same hazel eyes, the same nose, a certain similarity in the tilts of their chins.

  Alya's gaze locked on their entwined fingers. When she looked up, she studied Jeni appraisingly, curiosity warring with something darker. It wasn't judgment—Jeni was too familiar with that, would have recognized it in a heartbeat—but Hawk's mother definitely wasn't particularly happy to see her.

  That changed in an instant when she turned to Hawk. Her gaze warmed, and her mouth curved into a smile as she leaned one hip against the porch railing. “You better have a trunk full of that fine Sector Four whiskey, or Big John'll toss you halfway back to O'Kane territory.”

  “Big John's getting old,” Hawk replied with a grin. He tugged Jeni up the steps before releasing her to wrap his mother in a hug. “He couldn't toss me past the end of the driveway these days.”

  “Don't let him hear you say that.” Alya hugged her son fiercely, then released him and returned her attention to Jeni. “And who's this?”

  “This is Jeni.” Hawk settled his hand at the small of Jeni's back, warm and encouraging. “Jeni, meet my mother, Alya.”

  She held out her hand, willing her fingers not to tremble. “Hi.”

  Alya's grip was as warm and firm as Lex's. “Nice to meet you, Jeni. Welcome to my farm.”

  “Thank you. It's beautiful.”

  “It has its moments.” Alya turned for the door. “Why don't you two come inside? We have leftovers from breakfast, and you can get Jeni settled in.”

  “I was going to show her around first—”

  “Hawk.” Alya cut him off firmly. “I know you have manners in there somewhere. Your girl could use a bite to eat and a little time to catch her breath. Shipp'll be back from a run tonight, and that means a rally. Let her rest up.”

  Alya disappeared into the farmhouse, and Hawk exhaled on a laugh. “You should have been there the first time she and Lex met.”

  It wasn't hard to imagine. “Badass lady standoff of epic proportions?”

  “I wasn't sure if they were going to love or kill each other.” Hawk smiled. “Dallas had no doubts. He says Alya's the reason I'm the only new recruit who's never pissed Lex off.”

  “Makes sense.” So much about him still didn't, but at least he was comfortable here, relaxed in ways she'd only glimpsed back in Four, and even then only in the rooftop gardens he'd helped cultivate.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe everything she needed to know about him could be traced back to Six, to the wide-open spaces and the tilled earth and the quiet peace that hummed beneath the noises of a working farm. If people were products of their environments, then Hawk was Sector Six.

  And she only had a few days to learn everything she could.

  If Sector Six had a version of fight night, it was a rally.

  It had been fifteen years since the first one. Fifteen years since he'd rolled back onto the farm, young and angry and determined to rescue his mother, one way or another.

  Shipp had been the knight in shining armor that day. Though he was only five years Hawk's senior, Shipp had seemed decades older in maturity and poise. He was like Dallas—a person with the inner strength and charisma that it took to draw men looking for someone to believe in, along with the steel will required to get the job done.

  Fifteen years ago, that had meant preventing Hawk from committing patricide.

  At first, Hawk had resented Shipp for thwarting his revenge. It had taken years for him to understand that the only reward he could have claimed for killing his own father would have been a lifetime of looking himself in the mirror, too aware of the blood on his hands.

  Shipp had understood. And he'd taken on that burden, just like he'd taken on the burden of protecting the bruised, terrified victims of Hawk's father's legacy. That first rally could have been a disaster waiting to happen—a crew of outlaw smugglers and a farm full of women and children still reeling from their unexpected freedom.

  Instead, they'd found common ground. Drinking, dancing, and driving. Laughter and food, and celebrating the heady feeling of being so far from Eden, you could almost forget they were there at all.

  Tonight, people seemed to want to forget. The cars were gathered in the field, headlights illuminating the darkness as engines purred and music blared. Jeni was down there in a cluster of Hawk's sisters, still nervous but smiling, and so gorgeous he wanted to sweep her up and lure her into the shadows.

  The couples sneaking away were headed to rendezvous plenty tame by O'Kane standards—but there was a charm to kissing in the darkness, frustration burning until the need for more was unbearable. Tension could be delicious when you knew it didn't have to last forever.

  But Eden was out there. And he had to talk business before indulging himself. “It's getting bad, Shipp.”

  “Yeah?” Shipp lit a cigarette, the lighter and the tip both flaring in the darkness. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

  “Everyone thought they'd have made a move by now.” Hawk shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and tried not to stare back toward the city. It shouldn't have been visible at all from the farm, but the new lights charging the walls created an ominous glow to the east. “Hunger's going to drive them out. And you know what that means.”

  “Course I do. I know how wars work, Hawk.” Shipp gazed out at the revelers in the clearing, cast in harsh relief by the headlights. “Food's always the thing. Either an army will need it, or they'll want to make damn sure their enemies can't use it.” He arched an eyebrow. “We should probably be glad your new boss hasn't burned us to the ground already, just in case.”

  No one in Sector Four had said it—at least where Hawk could hear—but he saw it in their eyes. He saw it in the way they refused to look at him every time Jyoti delivered an update on the state of the farms and communes—food the sectors had access to that stood beyond Eden's reach.

  Dallas didn't need Sector Six to win the war, and he couldn't afford to let Eden get their hands on it. “There's land on the edge of Four, Shipp. The girls are doing great with their farm. Round everyone up and get the hell out of here before anything happens.”

  Shipp snorted. “You know better. Your mama's not leaving this place while there are still two boards to rub together.”

  He knew. For twenty-five years, this place had been hell on earth for Alya—but for the last fifteen it had been hers, the land she'd reclaimed inch by inch, stone by stone. She and Shipp had built it into a secret haven for lost wanderers and runaway children.

  She wouldn't give it up any more than Dallas would abandon the Broken Circle. “She may not have a choice.”

  “If it comes to that, I'll pick her up and carry her myself,” Shipp agreed. “But it has to be down to that—no other choice. You understand.”

  “I understand.” He squeezed Shipp's shoulder. “Laurie and Tanya mentioned wanting to move over to Four. Dallas said I can put some of the new recruits to work building another couple barns and an addition on the house. Anyone else who wants to come, we'll have room. And you know I'll take care of them.”

  “Yeah, you will.” The corner of Shipp's mouth tilted up. “You're all-in on the O'Kane shit these days, yo
u and Finn. Brotherhood, booze, and cute little redheads.”

  Hawk found Jeni in the crowd again. Her hair was half up, pulled away from her face to cascade down her back in soft waves. Her endless variations fascinated him almost as much as the way she could disappear behind wigs and makeup. He'd learned to hide his expressions behind a single blank mask, but Jeni had a hundred of them, and the truth of her was in the precious, rare places where they all overlapped.

  “She's not mine,” Hawk replied softly. And because it was Shipp, who wasn't quite a father but was so much more than a friend, he added the truth. “Not yet.”

  “No?”

  “I'm working on it.”

  Shipp was silent as he finished his cigarette. Then he crushed it out on the bottom of his boot and turned to Hawk. “Sometimes you have to take a chance. Go ahead and jump, even if you're not sure how you're gonna land.”

  From anyone else, it would have been casual advice. But Shipp knew. The whole sordid story, the reason Hawk had been chased away from his home to begin with. Damn near half his life ago, but the pain of it still surprised him sometimes. Like a bruise he forgot was there until someone slammed into it just right.

  O'Kanes didn't do jealousy, but Hawk sure as fuck did. And this was a hell of a bad time to piss off the O'Kanes. “It's complicated, man.”

  “Isn't everything?” Shipp jerked his head toward a small cluster of cars just outside the circle in the field. “I want to show you something.”

  Hawk followed him, nodding when people broke off to greet him and returning the hugs from sisters and shoulder slaps from brothers. The crowd surged around him, ebbing and flowing, so familiar the sense of disconnect from the last month only grew.

  The tension plaguing Four seemed so distant. The people here weren't partying harder as they stared down oblivion. They were just partying. The war was still abstract to them. They had their solar power, their chores, the same lives they'd been living all along.

  Hawk could fool himself into thinking he'd lure them to safety, but they wouldn't hear him. Not while their illusions of peace held strong.