by Angela White
He drew in a steadying breath as they neared the group of eight men standing around the front end of a faded-blue semi with an open hood–all smoking, talking quietly around the two men sitting half inside the engine compartment.
“Hey, guys. Any luck yet?”
Knowing anything he had to offer wasn’t welcome, Marc hung back as heads spun at Neil’s call.
Cold attitudes appraised him. Kenn was one of the men under the truck’s greasy hood, and the mood was already aggravated.
Seth was the second man inside the truck, and Marc took a chance by nodding hello. Seth had protested when Danny started on him at the creek, but Dog had handled the problem before anyone else could.
Brady was relieved when the guard returned the gesture, and then looked around for the wolf.
Marc shook his head, shrugging as Kenn answered Neil in short tones.
What the hell is O’Neil doing with him? Kenn’s eyes asked it, and Marc was a bit surprised at the challenge in Neil’s expression. The cop knew Kenn was on edge, was trying to push him out. Adrian had missed it, but this quiet officer hadn’t? It was hard to swallow.
“Compressor’s shot on the trailer and there’s a short in the engine wiring. We’ll have to strip it down,” Kenn said.
Neil noted Marc’s motion to Seth, was glad he had made a friend on his own. “We’ll help.”
Kenn wiped a greasy hand down his dirty jeans so he could light a smoke and suck in enough air to sound normal. “Chris is bringing the truck around. Adrian wants a count.”
The Marine bent back over the engine, pretending Marc wasn’t there. Giving Tonya a workout had settled him down a bit, returned his control.
Seven of the men watching tried to do the same, while listening for every word the new man might say.
Neil stepped over to Marc. “Keep track of how many boxes and crates you carry. You’ll be asked when we’re done.”
“Should I count each one out loud so no one can bitch when my numbers match up?”
Neil continued as if he hadn’t heard, but he liked it that Marc was telling them, he too, was irritated. They’d been warned, and while Neil was hoping Kenn might be goaded into doing something that would get him in trouble, he agreed with Marc’s side. She loved him and he loved her. It was simple.
“We’re moving food,” Neil said. “Crates of bread and dough mostly, but we still have some potatoes, cheese, and oranges. Adrian got most of it right after the war, at big factories. A lot of what we find now went bad weeks ago.”
“Smart to check the warehouses and plants. Most people wouldn’t.”
“That’s Adrian.”
“So you need more refrigerated trucks?”
“Yeah. The dust clogs everything up. We go through a lot of compressors and haven’t found a big enough auto store that hasn’t been destroyed or too looted to have what we need.”
Marc said nothing. He knew where one was. He and Angie had spent a night there a week ago, doing tune-ups. It was a small solution to one of this camp’s many minor inconveniences, but Marc wasn’t sure yet who he would give his ideas to.
“You don’t happen to know anything about wiring or compressors, do you?”
The question came from Zack, Kenn’s right-hand man, according to scuttlebutt. Marc hesitated before shrugging, aware that none of them, Neil included, wanted him to fix this in front of Kenn.
“Very little,” Marc hedged, sure the most loyal ally wasn’t going to let it go. Zack was hoping for an opening to a fight, and he’d given him one.
“Okay, then. We’ll–”
“He didn’t say no,” one of the other men interrupted before the truck driver could.
Neil shook his head, sure members going by had stopped to observe. Tension was detected a lot faster now. “Don’t start shit, Jeff.”
The Level Two Eagle gave him a cold glare. “Shit started when he came here.”
The stocky man glared at Neil in a way that said he wanted Adrian to get involved, and Neil knew he couldn’t stop it. Marc would have to handle this one on his own, too.
“So, how about it, Wolfman? Kenn won’t mind this time because it’s not behind his back.”
There were murmurs of agreement, and Marc snorted. “I’m sure he can take care of it in either case.”
Jeff hesitated at the cold tone of warning, thinking of Doug’s nose, but Kenn was listening, waiting. The sentry pushed harder, eager to be the one Kenn thanked, not Zack, when the new man was made to leave. “Come on. What’s a truck compared to a wife?”
“Once you turn your back on something for so long that you’ve created a whole new life, it no longer belongs to you but to the one who cared for it while you were gone,” Marc said, thinking he’d done the same thing to her all those years ago. It gave his voice a tone of regret all the men were surprised to hear. “As for the truck, if Kenn says it’s done, then it is. There was no one better at shit like this on my team.”
Marc lit a smoke, heart thumping with awareness that he was revealing secrets and bringing to light realities that Kenn didn’t want known. He waited for the Marine’s reaction with steady, ready hands.
“You guys talk more than women,” Kenn said. “Here comes asswipe with the truck. Let’s get it done.”
Kenn’s tone betrayed none of his anger and embarrassment, but his red face did and a few of the men began to wonder more than they already had been. They wanted to be loyal to Adrian’s XO, but only if he was worthy of it.
Except for Zack, who didn’t have much of a moral line yet, but even he was forced to admit that Kenn had been keeping secrets and telling lies to keep those secrets. If all that stuff wasn’t true, Kenn would have argued, right? In a heartbeat.
Everyone except Marc marched to the truck as it came to a jarring stop, and he waited for Kenn to climb down, letting the others get out of earshot.
The two men stared at each other with cool dislike.
Marc didn’t want to deal with the fight he noted in Kenn’s expression, not unless they could end it all right here. “Her choice, not ours. I won’t influence her.”
“You already have. She’s changed.”
“You’re the one who changed her,” Marc insisted. “This is how she should have been.”
He held up his hand again when Kenn’s eyes narrowed with more questions. “We don’t want to do this now. I wanted to tell you we saw an undamaged AutoZone in Lincoln, Nebraska. It’s a super-center, still had glass in most of the windows, and it should have some of what you need.”
Marc stepped past him, and was surprised when Kenn wrote it in a small, glossy black notebook with lettering on the front cover that he wasn’t close enough to read. He hadn’t expected the sullen Marine to listen, had thought he would tell Neil later, but knew he had to try to show these people that, he too, could follow the chain of command.
The group of quiet, tense men began unloading bags, crates, and boxes, and Marc was silent, shut out of their occasional jokes and taunts. As he kept pace, he wondered what Angie was doing and if she knew the price that he would pay every day that he stayed here waiting for her.
5
It took them a lot longer than Marc had expected. They stripped the rig–all of it–from gas to brake pads and headlights, neatly packing and marking. When it was done, all of them were greasy and sweaty. They split up with little talk.
“We’ve got a bit, if you want to put up your tent now,” Neil offered as they traveled in the opposite direction that Kenn had gone.
“Sure. Where?”
The pleased trooper led the way. “See the two big tents in the middle? Men’s and women’s. Now, the empty corner on the left? That’s where mine was. Put yours there. I’m on your right.”
Not understanding but almost sure Neil hadn’t gotten permission first, Marc asked, “This gonna get you in trouble?”
“Those are defense slots and can only be assigned by Adrian or a couple of other people. Angela’s is directly across the bonfire f
rom yours, next to the one the women are putting up for the blonde… Samantha, I think,” Neil said, studying the rippling waves of corn silk hair being blown wildly by the cool wind. She’s actually kinda cute.
“Won’t that cause problems for you?”
Neil was thinking Sam needed to gain a little weight. Hilda would help with that once he mentioned it.
“Maybe with Kenn, but it will tell the camp that you have support in the chain of command. As long as Adrian doesn’t overrule it, you’ll get more respect.”
Marc met Neil’s eye at the confirmation of his earlier suspicions. His friend did have a high place. “It’s a blow to your authority here, right, if he says to put it somewhere else?”
“He won’t,” Neil assured. “Let’s get your new home up.”
As they carried things from both Blazers, his and Angie’s personal stuff mixed up, Marc wondered what Kenn had thought about the nearly identical vehicles, and knew coincidence wasn’t it. He counted it as a double hit, personally, picking an identical replacement. It was fate that a second match to hers had been there at all. He and Angie had always been alike, and all those years apart had faded for him the minute his lips had touched hers.
A half-hour later, they were done, and Marc was glad the men’s area had stayed mostly empty, because the guards covering the inside of the camp were anything but accepting. The people moving by were also frowning, whispering as they stared in disapproval. He hoped Neil didn’t get into trouble with them too.
Marc glanced at his watch, and Neil caught the movement. “You won’t be late.”
Marc kept his tone even. “He must find you handy to have around.”
Neil got them moving again. “That’s the idea.”
“And where do I fit? What do you get for helping me settle in?”
Neil’s face was open, serious. “Exactly what I have now–Adrian’s respect. He asked me a long time ago to watch out for people like him. I might have overlooked you if not for Kenn’s behavior and her fear. Not many people here can compete with all he does for Adrian, can’t rattle his cage much. If Kenn considers you a serious rival, and clearly he does, then you must be one of them.”
6
Marc waited outside Adrian’s tent, able to smell himself and hating it, but he had to give them credit. They had dealt him a tough couple of hours of labor with the heaviest boxes, the weakest bags, the crates with the cracked, sharp corners, and the leaking cans of gas. But what exactly could he say if he had any intentions of complaining? Which he didn’t. They had all worked hard and felt like it when they were done. The only difference was that he would smell himself for a while, since his boots got most of the pungent fuel.
“Penny for one of those thoughts?”
Marc rotated to find the breeze flirting with the high hemline of a red dress and remained silent, willing himself to feel something, anything, for the sexy redhead. He’d noticed her around, the bright clothing an instant lure that he was sure was intentional.
“Like what ya see?” she drawled invitingly.
Nothing. Damn it! “You’re very pleasing to look at,” he offered. It was the best he could do.
Tonya’s smile faltered at the disappointed tone. “Only ta look at?”
“Beauty is skin deep comes to mind. I wonder why?” Marc asked. He trusted his first impressions.
Not expecting that response, Tonya wrinkled her nose as the heavy smell of fuel came to her on the stiff breeze.
“Because it’s never been truer than with Tonya.”
Adrian ducked into his tent, leaving Tonya to wonder how much he’d heard.
“She’s trouble. Untrustworthy…the bottom rung of Safe Haven life,” Adrian called loudly, her sputtered protests music to his ears. “Come on in, Marc. The whore will keep.”
Tonya stomped away furiously, muttering.
“You probably shouldn’t turn your back on her,” Marc said, stepping into complete organization and the light smell of smoking. I might fit in here, he thought as he sat down in the chair Adrian motioned to.
The table between them was covered with small, perfectly aligned stacks of paperwork, and Adrian removed a little brown box from the long footlocker by his perfectly made-up cot.
“Good instincts. Tonya is just as dangerous as the slavers, maybe more so. When they attack, I’ll have a small chance of seeing it come. She’ll try hard to blindside me.”
Marc grinned uneasily, thinking she was the only one he’d met so far who wasn’t happy with Adrian’s leadership.
“What’s her problem?” he asked, as Adrian rolled a thick, neat joint from the green buds in the box.
“Power. She wants it and can’t find a better way to get it than by spreading her legs.”
Marc thought the mirrors sewn into the tops of the canvas walls were a clever way to illuminate the tent. “Neither you nor Kenn are interested, and she’s pissed?”
It was a very observant question, and Adrian shrugged, automatically listening for and hearing the calm, reassuring footsteps of guards walking their posts outside.
“I can’t speak for Kenn, but me, no.” Adrian lowered his voice and began the bonding process that had never failed. “At least, not anymore.”
Marc chuckled, understanding the boss man had been there and hadn’t been impressed.
Adrian lit the joint, inhaling deeply. He met Marc’s eye, got things started. “Before we talk about anything else, I have a single question, and a lie will get you an invitation to leave. Are you sleeping with Kenn’s wife?”
Marc went cold, and the Marine inside sat up, began storing information.
“She’s not his wife and no, not that it’s any of your business. She’s not like that.”
“Don’t tell me it’s only friendship.”
“I won’t.”
“Sex, then. You want to sleep with her.”
Marc snorted at the obvious. “You’ve seen her. What man wouldn’t? She’s beautiful, inside and out.”
“It’s worse than sex. It’s love.” Marc said nothing, and Adrian leaned in, passing the joint. “You brought her here, and you’ll stay to be close, even though you’ve already begun to realize you may never have anything more.”
“I’m not the only one with good instincts,” Marc muttered. “When it gets too bad, I’ll go.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
Marc inhaled, passed. “It’s the only thing left to me now that she has her man back.”
Adrian considered, thinking he would probably end up liking Marc despite the unwelcome tension that had come with him. He was obviously miserable, and Angie was right. Marc would need to be kept as busy as possible if he were going to be able to settle in. They definitely needed him, even if he did have an ache for another Marine’s woman.
“Backing off is the right choice. They were together for a long time before the war,” Adrian said, taking the smoldering weed as the tent flap rustled in the wind.
“And if I told you I knew her before he did? That I grew up with her? Would that help me here at all?”
“If people knew, yes. Childhood sweethearts?”
“Something like that,” Marc responded bitterly. “I was the first hands under her shirt, the first blow-job she ever gave. I taught her to use a hammer, to swing on a tire, to smile. The first love letter she ever wrote was to me, and I still have it. It almost killed us both when we were…split up.”
The two men finished the joint in silence as Adrian put the unspoken pieces together. He had thought Kenn had the clear claim on her, but Marc had been her first love, and when war came, Marc had found her, protected her…while Kenn hadn’t searched at all. He now knew how the boy fit in, too. What a mess.
“Kenn know any of that?”
“No. She doesn’t think he could handle it, and I agree.”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Let me tell you what these people know. She’s his. He’s been
telling us that all along, and we’ve had no reason to doubt him. And she was on her way to him when he found her.”
Adrian’s gaze was hard, and it was one the note-taking male inside Marc wanted to answer. “If she was coming to him, then why is she avoiding being alone with him? She spent the night in Charlie’s tent. She came for her son and was hoping to find people she could build a life with.”
Adrian knew it. He knew Angela longed for a place that would accept her for what she was–special. But he also needed more of the past, more of the truth, and he said nothing, waiting to see if Marc would reveal it to get his point across.
“She spent a lot of years unhappy. She deserves the chance to start over if she wants to, the chance to be loved and protected. None of those are things your heavy-handed pet can give her.”
Adrian’s face became stone at the words.
Marc blew out an angry breath. “I apologize. No matter what it looks like, I shouldn’t have said that, but you don’t know how special she is.”
“Yes, I do, and she’ll help as much as either of the men who want her.”
“Not under Kenn’s rules,” Marc denied. “She can’t go back under his thumb. I won’t allow it.”
Adrian didn’t doubt the man would do something drastic if it was called for. “The females have the power here. She can do what she wants, if she can settle in and be accepted.”
“With Kenn.”
Adrian lit a smoke. “The herd would be calmed faster, but I mean it when I say the women’s choices are what matters. We need them happy and spreading around all the good things that come with them.”
Marc almost believed him. If not for Kenn having such a high place here, he would probably be sold. The things he’d stored suggested Adrian was obsessive, territorial, and maybe even dangerous, but he was also one of the good guys.
“You’ll look out for her?” Marc asked suddenly.
“Yes.” Adrian almost wished he were getting her with the responsibility. “As will others.”
