Broken Dreams

by Rissa Blakeley

  “A job?” I watched the exchange and became choked up. Even in his darkest days, such innocence could put a smile on his face. I felt hopeful for him.

  “Yes.” Henry held out his pinky. “Now, you pinky swear that you will help Ms. Addie with everything you can. You have to help in the house, out in the garden, and you are not to leave the house alone. Understood?”

  She nodded and smiled. Then she wrapped her tiny pinky around Henry’s. “Pinky swear. Will we ever see each other again?”

  “I sure hope so, little love. I sure hope so.” He hugged her again and stood up. I took his good hand in mine. He looked at me, and the tears were flowing down my face.

  I heard another sniffle, and looked over toward Thomas. He was holding Shay while she cried. I had a feeling the two quiet wall flowers connected more than we all knew.

  We all piled into the truck. I turned the key, put it in gear, and backed out of the driveway. We drove south for about an hour before anyone said a single thing. I was dreading getting to North Carolina. The whole Gunther ordeal was making me have terrible anxiety since I knew we were closer than I wanted to be.

  Chapter 42

  I

  t was another two months or so before we made it to the border of North Carolina. I wasn’t exactly sure of the timing, but it was an eternity. We couldn’t believe it took so long, but we ran into so many crazy things. Between undeads, survivors, bombed roads, and having to hunt for gas, food, and booze, I thought we would never get there…not that I wanted to get there.

  When I saw the “Welcome to North Carolina” sign, it seemed quite bizarre that it was still standing. That was the first welcome sign I had seen since we had been traveling. Most were either taken out by vehicles or the bombings.

  Claire was starting to show a cute little pooch. I liked to touch it, hoping to feel the baby kick. Thomas spent most of his time staring out the window, probably dreaming of holding Shay.

  Nick still wasn’t thrilled with Henry, but they took shifts driving so Henry could feed his addiction. I spent a lot of my days crying over it when he wasn’t looking. I just had to keep reminding myself that he was sick.

  I hated bearing witness to it, but there was no way he could detox on the road. He needed to have a place to rest and relax before he could even think about it. There were a few times he came dangerously close to running out of booze. He was near full blown panic mode during those times, but we found a few liquor stores and bars that were untouched.

  Also, there were several times that we were almost overrun by a massive herd or two. A few times, we all fought with fury, even Claire, against everyone’s wishes…but we didn’t have a choice.

  Henry and I had yet another major blow out on the road when he was seriously low on booze. I really thought it was going to be the end of our relationship. It was the worst one yet. He was tweaking out, knowing he was close to the end of his supply. His hand shook, holding the last partial bottle in his hand.

  “Maybe we should just not look for any more,” I mumbled as I sat next to him in the middle of the back seat. He whipped around and glared at me. I thought he was going to tear me limb from limb.

  “I need it,” he snarled. “Why would you say that?”

  “I hate it.”

  “Do you think I enjoy this by any means?”

  “Sometimes I wonder.” I crossed my arms and leaned toward Thomas.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Oh, the joys of “Drunk Angry Henry”. Claire turned around, feeling the tension.

  “No, I’m not! I’ve seen you get all giddy and act like you’re enjoying yourself.” There was dead silence.

  “Pull the truck over, Nick.” Henry’s voice was calm and scary. Nick looked at me in the rearview mirror, asking for approval. I nodded back at him. Before he could put the truck in park, Henry jumped out and grabbed my arm. “Come on!” he demanded.

  “No!” I resisted, and yanked my arm away from his cold, clammy hands.

  “Yes! Let’s have this out right fucking now!” he yelled with grave intensity.

  “Fine,” I growled. He stormed off, walking toward the tall, grassy field. As I got out of the truck, I heard Nick and Claire exchange a few words.

  “I swear to you, Claire, if he hurts one hair on her head, I will fucking kill him.”

  “He won’t. He would never hurt her physically. He may hurt her every other way, but he would never lay a hand on her.”

  Henry stopped about a hundred feet away from the truck and waited for me. I followed with my arms crossed, ready to deflect anything that he was going to throw at me.

  “What the fuck is your problem?!” he yelled when I was close enough to feel his anger. He was pretty much spitting mad, as was I.

  “The bottle…that’s my fucking problem!”

  “How many times do I need to explain this to you?! How many, Elaina?! Please fill me in so I can cross them off each time we have this discussion because one day you will stop!”

  “If you don’t stop, I won’t stop!” I stepped right into his chest and gave him my angriest glare. Fucking asshole. Raging loony or not, I wasn’t going to stand there and take his venom.

  “I can’t fucking help it! I need it or I will be even sicker. I will hurt more! I can’t hurt more...I can’t do it.” He looked a little panicked, thinking about the pain that was to come when he did have to stop. He grabbed at his far too long hair, and pulled.

  “Do you realize what you are doing to us?”

  He snapped his head back around to me. “Yes! Don’t you think I see what my fucked up self is doing? Don’t you think that I know exactly what’s transpiring?”

  “Sometimes I wonder!” We were both shouting with our arms flailing around. He took a deep breath and stepped back. He looked down at his feet, obviously ashamed.

  “I’m not ready to stop.”

  “When are you going to be ready? When you die?” I poked him in the chest. “I don’t want this for you!”

  “I don’t want it, either! It’s not as easy as putting a cap on it and walking away!” He was screaming at me once again. The next thing that I said hurt me as much as it hurt him, but it needed to be said.

  “Every time you lift that fucking bottle to your lips, you take one step further away from us.” His body sagged, knowing that I was right.

  “Elaina…I love you.”

  “You surely have a fucked up way of showing it to me!” My fists were clenched at my sides.

  “I’m so sorry.” He looked as if he was about to cry. I had to turn around because the pain in his eyes was damn near killing me. I felt his body get close to mine, and his hands rested on my shoulders. I wanted to step away, but I couldn’t. “I’m sorry I ended up like this. I’m sorry that what you want from me is something I can’t give you right now. I’m sorry about it all. God, I love you so much. It kills me that I am doing this to you.”

  I covered my face with my hands. He wrapped his arms around me and turned me into his chest. I stood there for a few moments, resisting his affection, but then I wrapped my arms around his waist.

  “I’m so sorry, love.” His voice cracked, and he rested his chin on the top of my head. He took a deep breath and his body shook. “I don’t fucking deserve you one bit,” he whispered.

  We stood there for a few more minutes, before heading back to the truck. I jumped into the back seat in my usual spot when Henry wasn’t driving. He got in next to me and closed the door, turning his big body toward the window. We were so close, but so far away from one another.

  “Are we ready?” Nick asked cautiously, and I nodded.

  He started the truck and we drove off into the late afternoon. Lucky for Henry, we found a bar that was untouched, and he loaded up the truck with his drug of choice.

  ***

  We pulled up to another house that looked abandoned. It was in a subdivision so, of course, I flashed back to the “Gun-slinging Jersey Cowboy” and his sidekick, “Mangy Wrench-wielding Douc
hebag”.

  Nick and Thomas got out to check the house since Henry was passed out from boozing it up. They knocked, and no one answered. Nick tried the handle, but it was locked so he came back to the truck.

  “Wake him up,” Nick demanded. “We need his lock picking skills.”

  “Okay, just give him a minute, though.” I sighed, knowing that trying to wake him in the middle of a drunken slumber could sometimes get ugly.

  He had pulled a gun on me one too many times for Nick’s comfort, let alone mine. It wasn’t that he was pissed with me for waking him, but he was usually startled, which caused him to instantly go into program mode.

  I got out of the truck, walking to the passenger side, and took a deep breath before I opened the door. I carefully pulled off his ball cap, which was pulled down over his face. I stroked his beautiful bearded face with the backs of my fingers. He stirred a little under my touch and moaned. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and twisted around away from me. I decided to try the nice approach.

  “Henry,” I whispered in his ear. “Lover…wake up.” His eyes flickered a little and he groaned. “Come on, Henry. I need you to wake up.” I reached up and rubbed his shoulder and back.

  “What?” he mumbled, still facing away from me.

  “We need a professional lock picker,” I said with a playful tone. I decided to kiss his ear a little. He swatted at me like I was a bug.

  “Then call one,” he grumbled.

  “Henry…”

  “Please, Elaina…,” he snapped. “I’m so fucked up right now.” His words were little more than slurs. Nick was pacing impatiently, mumbling to himself. I heard several obscenities strung together with a whole lot of name calling mixed in…directed at Henry, of course.

  “I know, I can see that. But we need to get inside for the night, and we don’t want to break any windows.”

  “Fine.” After jamming the heels of his palms into his eyes, he opened them. He reached down into one of the pockets in his jeans and pulled out a little tool set. He grabbed his hat and put it back on. Slowly, he climbed out of the truck and staggered up to the door. I tried to help keep him stable.

  Once we made it to the door, we were inside in about two seconds. Apparently, his mad lock picking skills transferred over through his drunken state. Nick and Thomas cleared the house.

  Once Claire and I got in the house, we saw that it was mostly empty. The menfolk brought in all of our belongings. It was getting tiresome loading and unloading the truck.

  Henry pulled a piece of carpet against the wall, then started in on yet another bottle of wine. Thankfully, my boy scout had a corkscrew in his pocket tool set.

  “Can you at least share some with me?” I asked, holding out my hand.

  “Are you going to dump it?” he asked, clutching it. He was worried because I had dumped bottles after he handed them to me before.

  “No. I promise. I would just like a sip or two. Maybe I can relax.” He reluctantly passed the bottle over, and I took a few sips. It was pretty good. I looked at the bottle, and realized it was a pricey one. “Sad that this is being wasted like this, and not on a special occasion.”

  “Yeah, really,” Henry mumbled when I passed it back to him. He pulled me close, positioning me in between his legs. I leaned back, and he was playing with my hair.

  No matter how pissed his drinking made me…or him, for that matter…I still loved him and wanted to be close to him. He had moments where I wanted to kick his ass but, for the most part, I just wanted to be in his arms. He was still affectionate, even if he was in a drunken stupor.

  “Let’s get some food into you. You haven’t eaten today yet.” His body was showing signs of his own abuse. He was losing muscle tone, and he was drinking more than he was eating.

  I felt such a heavy sadness for him because he used to take great pride in his physical fitness. He was always proud of his physique. Before the whole bullshit started, he spent two hours minimum in the gym nearly every single day, even weekends.

  I got up and hunted down the bag of pretzels and jar of peanut butter we found earlier that day. We all sat around, munching. It definitely wasn’t what I wanted, but it filled my stomach.

  “Well, folks, it’s been a pleasure hanging out with you all. I think Claire and I will be going to bed.” Nick stood and helped her up. He grabbed their bedding, and picked out a room. I heard the lock click. I didn’t even want to know what his agenda was after I heard Claire giggling in there.

  ***

  Claire and Nick laid the linens on the bed. Every time he walked around her, he would breathe lightly on her ear and kiss her neck. His cool breath tickled and made her giggle. After he adjusted the last blanket, he laid his hands around Claire’s hips.

  “Finally alone…away from the drunk,” Nick mumbled as he pulled Claire close to him. “I’m sick of him being so damn drunk all the time.”

  “Just remember he can’t help it. He’s sick.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I feel bad for Elaina having to put up with him.” He shook his head, feeling like he wanted to kick Henry’s ass once again.

  “She loves him. You have to accept that.”

  “Whatever. Enough about him.” He began kissing her, brushing his lips across hers. Her lips parted for him, and he took advantage of it. He pushed his tongue in, attacking hers. She moaned into his mouth. “Come on.” He guided her to the bed, making her sit at the edge. He kneeled in front of her. “It’s been so long. I need you. I’ve been aching for you. You feeling up to it?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Just take it easy.”

  “Oh, I’ll be easy, don’t you worry your pretty little self.” She smiled at the devious glint in his eyes.

  “I don’t know about little. Have you seen this thing?” She pointed at her stomach. “I swear it gets bigger by the second.”

  He smiled. “Yes, I have, and I quite like it.” He helped Claire lay down and crawled up next to her. Nick lay on his side, rubbing her stomach, and smiled.

  “Can you feel the baby moving?” He stopped rubbing, and she directed his hand to where the baby was wiggling around.

  “Yes! Holy shit! I felt a little wiggle.” Nick was swooning over Claire and the baby. He held his hand there for a few seconds, and then felt around her stomach searching for more fluttering. She smiled at his obvious joy.

  “What do you think? Boy or girl?”

  “Hmm…I’m thinking a girl,” Nick said.

  “Me, too. I’d like to name her Willow.” Claire smiled.

  “I like that, but let’s keep it between us. Just something for the three of us.” He returned her smile, leaned down, and pulled up her shirt enough to expose her stomach. He kissed her where the baby was dancing around. Claire rubbed her hands through Nick’s dark hair. He crawled up on her. His eyes were bright, but mischievous.

  “You up for some sexy time, my beautiful ginger?” he said in a gritty voice.

  “Maybe,” she teased.

  He leaned down to her face and kissed her again, carefully balancing himself so he wouldn’t put his weight on Claire’s growing belly. He nuzzled at her ear, and his cool breath sent chills down her body. He groaned when he felt her shudder under him.

  Instantly, her breasts perked up. He ran his hand down her sides, with his thumb brushing across her overflowing, swollen chest. She moaned under his tender touch. He helped her out of her shirt, and sucked in a deep breath when he saw her.

  “Wow.” She took his breath away.

  “What?”

  “You are one sexy momma.” She blushed. He unhooked her bra, tossing it aside. He was drooling over his love. He pulled his shirt off, and she ran her hands down his chest, stopping at his belt buckle. He watched her hands work feverishly, trying to undo his belt. He chuckled a little. Finally, his pants slid down, exposing everything he had.

  “Wow,” Claire said with a smile.

  “What?”

  “I like what I see.”
/>   “Yeah?” She reached down and ran her hands over his arousal. He quaked from her slow stroking. His eyes rolled, and his breathing became ragged. “Oh, babe. Christ…” He grabbed her hand to make her stop. “Be careful. It’s been a while for us.”

  “Sorry,” she said, full of guilt.

  “I’m fine with it.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “You’ve been busy baking my little Willow.” She smiled.

  The thought that they finally were together and had made a baby out of love filled her heart with joy no matter how frightened she was. He leaned down and began nipping at her smooth, pale skin. Then he yanked down her black yoga pants.

  “Sweet Jesus…look at you. You look like a goddess.”

  “Oh stop! I do not!” She flushed, and tried to cover herself with her arms.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He forced her arms to her sides. “All that beautiful, long, curly ginger hair, your pale skin, smallish swollen tummy. Creamy legs. God, babe. I could look at you for hours. Look at what you do to me.” Her eyes glanced down at his obvious excitement. He pushed her knees apart and settled on her, being careful not to lay on her bump. He kissed her with passion. He nipped at her lips and ran his tongue around her jawline. She moaned with desire.

  “Nick…,” she whispered in his ear.

  He slowly rocked himself into her. She fought not to cry out. Nick took her face in his hands, waiting for her cue to continue. She was panting, and every time she breathed, Nick could hardly handle it. She was so tight around him, and he loved her so much that he wanted to make her feel his love for her.

  He groaned a little too loud as he moved with long, slow strokes. She shushed him. He laughed a little and apologized. Then he began pumping his hips into hers.

  Several minutes later, he threw his head back and his breathing went ragged again. His heart raced in pleasure. Claire tore her nails down his back as he dipped further into her. She was clenching down around him.