Reviving Emily

by Becca Jameson

  * * *

  An hour later, Ryan lay on his back in his bed, holding Emily against his chest.

  “You’re going to crush me, hon.”

  He glanced down. “I can’t seem to let you go.”

  “You don’t have to let me go, but maybe try not to cut off the blood supply to my limbs,” she teased. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” She kissed his bare chest as her fingers spread against his belly.

  He tried to loosen his grip on her shoulder, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Luckily her right arm was the one nestled against the bed—the bruises a constant brutal reminder of what she’d been through that day.

  He cleared his throat. “Temple called while you were in the bath.”

  “She did? What did she say?”

  “It was kind of odd. She said she was looking into a way to get both of us new identities so we could move away from the area.”

  “Seriously?” Emily lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I assume you told her there wasn’t a chance in hell.”

  He smiled and stroked her arm. “No. I was slightly taken aback for one thing. And for another, I would never make life decisions without consulting you. I told her I had to speak to you.”

  Emily’s brow furrowed. “But your parents. You wouldn’t leave them no matter what I wanted right now. Nor could I ever be selfish enough to suggest such a thing.”

  “I know that. I knew you would most likely think the entire idea was ludicrous. Temple must be seriously concerned about our safety to think I would leave my parents right now.”

  Emily shook her head. “Well, we’re not taking that offer ever, so I’ll set her straight tomorrow. No way would we leave the bunker before both your parents were reanimated. I can’t imagine leaving afterward either. Screw our safety. We’ll stay inside the bunker from now on if we have to. Whatever it takes.”

  He loved her passion. Sliding his hand down to her forearm, he spoke again. “You do get a say in all this, Emily. I would never want you to feel like you were suffocating in that damn bunker just to please me. Perhaps it’s the insanity of the day or the threat of losing you, but my brain is far clearer tonight. I would do anything for you. My job isn’t half as important as you are.”

  She smiled and leaned forward until only inches separated their lips. “Well, I totally understand the feeling because I no longer care if I’m stuck in that bunker for the rest of my life even if I decide I hate science and don’t have a job. It would be enough just to be with you.”

  “Nevertheless, if at any point you think it would be better for us to leave, just say the word, and we’ll get out of there.”

  She shook her head. “I love you.”

  Damn. She was so perfect.

  She kissed his lips gently. “We’re not giving up our lives. You’re not giving up your work. At least not now. Not before your parents are safe. If this shit doesn’t die down, we can discuss it again, but for now, I’m all in. We’re not going anywhere.”

  He licked his lips. “I’m about to get rather possessive on you,” he warned. “Not sure when I’ll let you leave the bunker again without me.”

  She nodded. “I’m not sure when I’m going to want to leave the bunker again.” She lifted off him, tossed a leg over his body, and pulled herself up to straddle him, her hands flat on his chest.

  He gripped her hips, trying to control his growing erection. It was difficult with her wearing nothing but a T-shirt he’d pulled from his dresser after her bath.

  Her eyes danced with that look he’d come to recognize as her playful sexy self. “Think you can keep from moaning if I go down on you?”

  He gulped, his fingers tightening on her hips. “Not a chance.” He glanced at the door.

  “I locked it,” she stated. “Besides, you need to learn to get creative.”

  “Me?” He lifted a brow. “You’re not exactly quiet in bed either, baby. The neighbors would hear you if I sucked your clit between my lips.”

  She ground herself against his length. The only thing separating them was the thin material of his loose, navy sleep pants. When she tossed her head back, exposing the column of her neck, he slid his hands under her shirt and smoothed them up to cup her breasts.

  She bit into her lower lip, making him wish she didn’t have to stifle the soft moan he knew would have escaped otherwise.

  Unable to take another minute of her seduction, he grabbed her waist and flipped her onto her back, coming down on top of her. “Spread your legs,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her.

  She opened for him, and he settled between her thighs.

  Frantic, he shoved the T-shirt up her body, exposing her breasts. He fondled them until her nipples grew stiff and she started squirming under him. Never breaking the kiss, he sucked her tongue gently until she moaned into his mouth.

  She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back a few inches, breaking the kiss. “Stop teasing. Ryan, please…” Her eyes were glazed over with lust.

  He reached down with one hand to tug his pants over his hips, and then he lined up with her entrance and thrust inside.

  She arched her head back, dug her heels into the bed, and lifted her hips off the mattress to meet his thrust. With her lips pursed to keep from making a sound, she dug her nails into his forearms.

  God, he loved her. Holding himself aloft with one elbow, he wiggled his other hand between their bodies to find her clit. The second he stroked the little nub, she came, her tight channel gripping him while she pinched her lips between her teeth.

  It was so hot, but he didn’t want to come yet. He wanted to enjoy this time together. Slowing his thrusts, he eased in and out of her as her eyes met his and she lifted her head to kiss him. “You make me burn,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “That’s the idea,” he responded just as quietly.

  “Faster,” she demanded.

  He shook his head, maintaining the gentle sway of his hips as he moved in and out of her. “I want to remember this.”

  She licked her lips, her eyes getting that glazed look again that told him she was going to reach a second peak before he came. “How is this different from any other time we’ve had sex?” she mumbled.

  He drew his hand up her body, cupped her face with both palms, and held her gaze. “Because you told me you love me. Because I finally shared how crazy I am about you too. Because now you know I’m never going to let you go. This isn’t just sex. It’s making love. It’s forever.”

  He thought she might cry, but she bit back her emotion and nodded. “That’s beautiful.”

  And then he picked up the pace, making sure her arousal rose with every thrust until her mouth fell open as she reached the edge.

  He managed to cover her lips with his hand as she came, his own release filling her at the same time.

  Chapter 23

  A noise yanked Emily out of a deep sleep. Her eyes shot open. For a moment she was disoriented, and then she realized she was burrowed under the covers of Ryan’s bed in his childhood home, his arm wrapped tightly around her middle. Early morning sun filtered in through the edges of the curtains.

  People were talking. Lots of different voices. Inside the house? She held her breath, listening closely. No, not inside. The voices were too far away. They were coming from outside. She rolled into Ryan, running a hand up his chest. “Ryan,” she whispered.

  “Mmm.” He held her closer, tipping his face down to nuzzle her neck.

  “Something’s wrong,” she informed him, her gut telling her they needed to get up. Now.

  Ryan’s eyes opened at the same moment there was a knock at the bedroom door. “Ryan? Emily? You need to come out here,” Patricia said.

  Ryan bolted to sitting, taking Emily with him. He tipped his head to one side, listening. “Fuck.”

  “What?” Emily asked, still processing things.

  “They found us.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his grip on Emily taking her with him. “Get
dressed, baby. We’ve got company.”

  Emily groaned as she processed what Ryan had surmised faster than her. Either the media or some other group had congregated outside Patricia’s house. Dammit.

  They never should have come here and brought this to Patricia’s home. Although, chances were Patricia was about to face this every day of her life for a while when word got out about her own daughter and son-in-law. She was a strong woman.

  Sure enough, five minutes later, dressed and alert, when Emily stepped into the front room with Ryan, she found Patricia sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of tea and working a crossword puzzle. She smiled up at them and pointed toward the front window. “I don’t think all those people came to see me.” Her light tone confirmed what Emily already surmised. Patricia Wolbach was no pushover.

  Ryan sighed as he peeked between the blinds. “Guess we need a new plan.” The living room was dimly lit since Patricia had not opened the blinds that morning to let the light in.

  Patricia stood. “Can I get you some tea or coffee?” she asked Emily as Ryan headed back down the hall.

  “Tea would be great.” She blocked out the hum of voices and followed Patricia into the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the counter and filling it with the steaming coffee from the pot on the counter. The second Ryan returned, phone in hand, she held it out for him.

  He wrapped his fingers around hers on the mug, closed the space between them until it was nonexistent, and brushed his lips over hers. “Have I mentioned that I love you yet this morning?”

  Emily’s face heated at his blatant display of affection and declaration of love two feet from where his grandmother was pouring hot water over a tea bag. A slow smile forming on Emily’s lips, she tipped her head back and set her free hand on his chest. “Not yet.” Embarrassment washed away to be replaced by a sense of calm that Ryan could be so open in front of Patricia. It said a lot about the man she was in love with.

  He stepped back, taking a sip of coffee while holding her gaze with mischievous eyes. After kissing her nose, he set the mug down and lifted the phone. Two seconds later, he started speaking. “Temple, we have a problem.”

  The next half hour was spent scrambling together a quick breakfast of toast and juice before deciding the best course of action would be to borrow Patricia’s car and shove their way through the throng of reporters to get back to the bunker.

  Ryan hugged his grandmother tight. “Sorry about all this.”

  She waved a hand through the air. “Oh, lordy. Don’t worry about it. It will give my neighbors something to gossip about for weeks. This neighborhood was due for some excitement.”

  Ryan just shook his head. “I’ll have someone return your car as soon as possible.”

  “I wasn’t planning to go anywhere today anyway.” Patricia turned to face Emily, grasping both her hands and meeting her gaze. “You’re a lovely girl. I’m so glad my Ryan found you. Take care of him, will you? He needs to be reminded to slow down and take deep breaths sometimes.”

  Emily grinned at the woman who knew her grandson well. “I’ll do my best.”

  After a quick last hug, Emily followed Ryan into the closed garage and climbed into the passenger side of the Civic.

  Ryan grabbed her hand and squeezed it before taking a deep breath and starting the engine. He pushed a button on the remote attached to the visor to open the garage door, and then he eased out onto the driveway.

  Instantly, the car was surrounded by dozens of people. Most of them were reporters holding microphones. Cameramen stood behind them. A few people were woven in with signs on poster board that declared Emily to be an abomination, against God’s will.

  She shuddered and ignored the signs. Hands landed on every part of the car, making it difficult to back up. And then the unthinkable. Someone opened Emily’s door. She hadn’t thought to lock it.

  “Shit.” Ryan hit the brake and reached across Emily to grasp for the handle, but already the door was wrenched open wide and three people were leaning into the car.

  So many questions fired all at the same time.

  “Are you Emily Zorich?”

  “Is it true you were preserved for ten years?”

  “What can you tell us about the madman who kidnapped you yesterday?”

  And from behind the reporters, Emily heard loud chanting: “Abomination.” “God’s will.” “The devil’s blasphemy.”

  She was shaking with nerves as hands grasped at her, pulling her from the car before she could stop them.

  “Emily,” Ryan shouted. He twisted his body to get a hold of her arm, but he was forced to release her when it became obvious he wouldn’t succeed against his opponents and would end up injuring her.

  She stumbled as her torso was wrenched from the vehicle before her feet. Scrambling to get her legs under her to keep from falling on her face, she landed on her knees.

  Someone pulled her upright. A dozen microphones were thrust into her face as she was flattened against the car. Her heart raced. She had no intention of answering anyone’s questions, but she hated that their cameras were rolling and her face would now be plastered all over the news.

  Her parents would see this. Anyone she’d ever known ten years ago would see it. Her private life had just come to an end. Never again would she be able to walk freely in the world without being recognized and hounded.

  She thought she was going to be sick. And then she knew she was. It happened so fast that she didn’t have any warning before she leaned forward and vomited all over the feet of several reporters. Everything she’d just eaten was expelled from her stomach in three violent projections.

  Everyone jumped back to escape the splatter of tea and juice and toast, which was when Ryan’s hand wrapped around her arm and hauled her back into the car. How the hell he managed to reach that far, she had no idea, but she was grateful when he pulled the door closed, locked it, and then found a pile of napkins in the console to wipe her face with. “You okay?”

  “Never been so glad to be sick,” she joked, taking a bottle of water from his hand.

  He brushed her hair from her forehead. “Good thing my grandmother keeps supplies for any eventuality in the car.” He glanced behind them. “We could probably cure a few diseases, apply some sutures, and even deliver a baby in the back seat with whatever she has in her emergency kit.”

  She shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Let’s not do any of those things today.” She wiped her mouth again and took another sip of water.

  He kissed her forehead. “Your timing was perfect. You feel okay?” he asked as he replaced his lips with his palm on her forehead.

  “Yeah. I think I just freaked out as a visual of the rest of my life popped into my mind.”

  “It won’t always be like this,” he promised.

  But she didn’t believe him. And she also didn’t know how she would handle this for the rest of her life. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

  She should be grateful for this second chance at life. And she was. But was it worth all the drama that went with it? So far she had faced reporters at every turn, religious zealots who made her stomach churn, and been kidnapped by a madman who wanted her to save his daughter.

  This was her life now.

  It was depressing. Perhaps Temple was right, and she needed to go into hiding. But it wouldn’t be fair to Ryan to even consider such an option. Not now. Not while his dad was in the process of reanimation with his mother slated to follow. If she went into hiding, she would have to go without him.

  Everything they had discussed last night suddenly seemed farfetched. She had promised him she would stay. But in the light of day? Temple obviously understood what this would really be like for her.

  She couldn’t expect Ryan to spend his life sequestered someplace because of her. He had dreams. He had medical expertise that could not be wasted. He had parents he needed to reunite with. She would be in the way. She couldn’t stay at the bunker forever. Sh
e simply didn’t have the skillset needed to be useful there anymore.

  Temple was doing her a favor by letting her help plan for the future reanimations. When her work for Temple was done, then what? She couldn’t just hang around inside the bunker doing nothing.

  It no longer seemed crazy for her to take a new identity and move to another part of the country. Maybe she could enroll in med school as if she were a new student. Start over. Start fresh.

  She’d loved med school. It would be easier this time around, and she enjoyed learning all the new techniques that had come into existence while she’d been sleeping.

  But Ryan…

  How much could love overcome?

  It didn’t seem like their love could survive this bump in the road. Prolonging the inevitable was only making things worse. She needed to talk to Temple. Make arrangements. It would be an easier, cleaner break if she left before Ryan’s father woke up.

  In a few weeks, Ryan’s life would take a turn that would keep his mind occupied. He would forget her and move on. It was the only way.

  She swiped at a tear that slid down her cheek.

  “Baby? You okay?” Ryan’s comforting hand landed on her thigh.

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  Chapter 24

  Emily stared out the passenger window of the car as Ryan approached the gated entrance to the four-acre government property where the bunker was located. He slowed almost to a stop as Emily gasped.

  Before today there had been a growing number of people gathered outside the gates, but this morning she estimated there were over a hundred. She could hear them chanting and screaming from inside the car. Enormous signs were waving through the air with pictures of her face on them and horrible words that would shock most people.

  Emily Zorich is an abomination that needs to be eliminated.

  Interfering with God’s plan will bring death upon the nation.

  Awakening the dead tempts the devil.