Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1

by Michelle Mills

  Not.

  She couldn’t believe the stuff she’d said, or what he’d said for that matter. It was awful, just awful.

  She tried to pretend last night didn’t happen—denial always being her best bet—and that she was instead one of Charlie’s Angels, with gorgeous flowing hair, running alongside her partner, ready to take out any bad guys who might come their way. Instead, she’d stumbled along behind him, crying and whining like in the movie Private Benjamin, falling to her knees in the dirt, throwing up in the grass like a cat.

  Her breath flashed in and out, flaming and ragged as dark spots danced in front of her eyes. A pair of Nikes crunched in the soil next to her.

  “Watch out,” she rasped. “I might puke on your new shoes.”

  Adam crouched down, his hand connecting with her sweaty back, hot as a brand. “Stay down for a moment. Wait until you catch your breath,” he ordered.

  Anger flashed through her, brilliant and sharp.

  “Oh, yeah, now you’re nice¸” she proclaimed, a little too loudly. “Where was this Adam last night? Or two miles back when I was begging, pleading for you to stop, telling you I couldn’t take any more? You just shouted at me and told me to get my ass in gear.” She paused and gagged again, her whole body shaking with the effort. Acid tore up her throat and pooled in her mouth. Oh God, disgusting. She spit a loogie into the dirt.

  Yeah, that was classy.

  He handed her water. “Drink this. Then you’re going to get up and keep jogging.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, tore the bottle out of his hand and gulped down the water, too thirsty to argue. Her heart beat furiously, her face was on fire and her muscles screamed in agony. It felt good to rinse out her mouth and replace all the water she’d lost. “Wait.” She gasped as she finally lowered the bottle. “Jogging? You want me to keep jogging even though I just threw up?”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “You’ve gotta get back on the horse.”

  “Are you high? I can’t run anymore.”

  He grinned and the corners of his sparkling brown eyes crinkled attractively. She wanted to stay mad at him, furious at him, but she was finding it difficult. Whenever that harsh face turned soft, she melted inside.

  “I thought you said you were in the best shape of your life,” he reminded her.

  “That’s what’s so sad…I am.” She used the bottom of her oversized, gray T-shirt to wipe the sweat off her face. God, she needed a shower and a bed, in that order. “Are you happy? You’ve proven that I’m weak and you’re strong. Good for you, now what?”

  The smile dropped off his face. His jaw looked so hard it might shatter. The scar that slashed across his face from the corner of his eye, down to this jaw seemed to stand out more. “Now you need to toughen up. No more whining, no more crying.”

  “What?”

  “Rachel, listen to me.” His laughing brown eyes were gone, replaced by a hard obsidian gaze. Her stomach clenched at the authority and absolute conviction gazing back at her. “I know you’re young and this is hard for you, but it’s time to grow up. You need to take this seriously. We’re going to search for other survivors today. We’ll start driving through California, heading north. We could meet new people at any moment. They could be good or they could be bad, and we need to be ready. The world has turned into complete chaos. For all I know, we could run into some motherfucking assholes this afternoon who want to use you as their private play toy. We don’t have time for you to get your shit together. Your training starts now.”

  “Stop treating me like a child,” she said. “I’m nineteen.”

  “Right, an immature nineteen.”

  “You’re a jerk!”

  “Yeah, but I’m the jerk who’s going to keep you safe.” Adam stood. “Now get up. Let’s keep going. It’s one more mile back to camp.”

  She wiped her hands across her pants. “Okay, one more mile,” she grumbled.

  Adam helped her up, his large hand making her wrist, her fingers, seem delicate and small. When she stood, she noticed his eyes rake over her chest. She glanced down. Oh, great. Heat burned up her neck and cheeks. She might have lost weight, but that didn’t mean she’d turned into a supermodel overnight. Her sweaty T-shirt was plastered to the front of her torso, showing every curve, every possible lump and bump. She quickly plucked it free.

  Jeez, one look from him, one touch, and her heart sped up.

  She deliberately squashed her useless, racing hormones and avoided looking again at his perfect chest and hard-as-rock abs. He’d told her last night he wasn’t touching her. In fact, he’d said no one was touching her. And he wouldn’t, ever. She’d only known Adam for a day, but that was long enough to know his word was his bond. And it made sense. Why would he touch someone like her? A girl who couldn’t keep up with him on a run? They had nothing in common. He was a fitness fanatic, a hard-ass soldier, a superhero in the making, and she…wasn’t. They’d eventually find other survivors, other women. Beautiful women. Someone just right for Adam.

  And she’d have to watch them together.

  An ache spread through her chest.

  No. No more being alone, or with the wrong person. She’d find someone, eventually. If not Adam then…someone. Because there were other survivors out there. There had to be.

  And meanwhile, they needed to remain friends. She needed to fix this. She touched his arm, and he turned back toward her. “Adam, I’m sorry about what I said last night. That wasn’t me. I was drunk, I barely remember half of what I shouted at you, but I’m sure it was whiny and immature. The world just ended. I was in a funk, a bad place. But that’s not the real me. You’ll see. I’m not really like that. It was my first day out. It was hard, ya know?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah, I was drunk too, and I said a lot of shit I shouldn’t have said.”

  “You were drunk?”

  “Shit, yeah.”

  “What? I couldn’t even tell. You seemed completely sober.”

  He frowned. “Yeah…well, I don’t normally say mean shit like that when I’m sober. I’m sorry too. What I said about you being a child…that was uncalled for. I knew you were too young, and I could tell you were a civilian I’d have to babysit. But that still wasn’t the problem I’m used to babysitting civilians. Mainly, I was pissed off when I found out you were a virgin.”

  Her brow furrowed. “It’s not like this is the Middle Ages, Adam. We’re in the twenty-first century here. I don’t understand. What does it matter if I’m a virgin?”

  He looked her right in the eyes. “I don’t fuck virgins.”

  She stared at him, trying to compute what he was saying. “So…what? I don’t understand.”

  “I found out you were a virgin, so therefore we can’t have sex. I was pissed off.”

  She sucked in a breath. Her face flamed. “Wait, you m-mean,” she stuttered. “Be-before you found out I was a virgin, you were…you wanted to have…sex…with me?”

  No. Way.

  “Yeah, from the moment I met you, I was planning, hoping we could end up sharing the same tent, fucking, forgetting about all of this shit around us. Didn’t you?”

  Her mouth fell open. “Uh…” She didn’t even know how to answer. She hadn’t even let her mind go there. She’d been stuck on, wow, you’re so gorgeous, and he’d already leapt to let’s fuck? Amazing, it was just amazing.

  “But now it’s not going to happen,” he groused.

  She blinked. Her stomach dropped. It was like she’d been offered a magic wand and it was being snatched right back out of her hand. “Because I’m a virgin?” There wasn’t going to be sex between them, not because she wasn’t sexy, or because she might still be overweight, or because they had nothing in common. Wow. It was only because…

  “Like I said, I don’t fuck virgins. And you’re a victim of abuse, and
you’re only nineteen. For chrissake, the last thing you need is a man like me harassing you.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No, you don’t,” he said firmly. “It’s okay, I won’t touch you, and I’ll make sure no else we meet does either.”

  “Well, uh…all right,” she fumbled, still stuck on this strange turn of events. In her old life, unbelievably handsome men who looked like superheroes with acres of lickable dark skin, flashing brown eyes and muscles as hard as rock did not—did not—hit on her. Never. Had she bumped up a pay grade due to the weight loss? Or was it just…because she was the only woman he’d seen alive?

  Because she was his only choice? Because he was desperate?

  Oh no.

  The iron ball from last night settled back in her stomach. Her temporary joy drained away, leaving pain and that familiar feeling of inadequacy she’d lived with her whole life.

  Oh God, that explained everything though, didn’t it? Adam was horny for her because she was the only woman he’d seen alive in who knew how long. If he’d found her and another woman at the same time on the freeway yesterday, he would’ve immediately chosen the other woman, and she would’ve been stuck listening to the two of them going at it last night in the tent next to hers, hands over her ears, crying, trying to drown it out.

  She looked down and swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  “Rachel?”

  “Hmm?” She glanced back up at him, doing her best to keep back the tears and leave her face blank.

  “Look, I’m happy you opened up to me like that last night. I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished. You focused on your health and you survived a goddamn apocalypse. That’s impressive.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she lied and offered a fake smile.

  “Good, let’s get going.”

  She took a deep breath and looked around. Saw the golden hills sparkling in the morning light, the dirt path in front of her and reoriented. This thing with Adam, it wasn’t a big deal, was it? In the big scheme of things, it was insignificant. It hurt. It always hurt to be second best, someone’s possible desperation fuck. She’d only had two boyfriends her entire life, and both of them had felt the same way Adam did, that she wasn’t quite right. But she had to believe that she’d still find a man who wanted her and only her. That man was still out there somewhere—a survivor just like herself. She’d be choice number one. That she’d find someone who’d think he was lucky to have her. Because…he would be.

  That man wasn’t Adam.

  And you know what? That was his freaking loss.

  She forced the iron ball out of her stomach. Her gaze rose and locked with his. “I can do this,” she huffed. Her shoulders straightened. “I’m going to survive this. You’ll see.”

  They stood close, a little too close. The air seemed charged, with what, she wasn’t sure. He stared at her, emotions running through his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher. “I know you will,” he rumbled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  Chapter Five

  Adam watched Rachel as they drove. He couldn’t stop. Every spare moment, his gaze landed back on her small form. Her full lips pressed together as she huddled against the passenger side, taking in the unrelenting tragedy of their ruined world as it passed by the window. She remained quiet in the car, biting her bottom lip, not saying a word. He understood. It was all so fucking tragic there weren’t enough words to cover it.

  Adam imagined they were in an aerial shot from a satellite or a drone. The two of them the only heat signatures registering and everything else around them gray. For hundreds of miles. Two dots of color moving against a backdrop of dead, black cityscape. Fucking weird.

  They’d been thrown together under horrific circumstances, two people who in real life would normally have never met. She’d been at UC Davis, studying to be a teacher. And he’d been on base in San Diego. They’d been at opposite ends of the state, doing entirely different things, leading them toward paths that would never have crossed. But here they were, spending every moment together, the only two people left at the end of the world.

  And he was acting like a bastard.

  He knew he was, but he couldn’t help it. His cock was always at half-mast in her presence, his body aware of her every breath, her scent, her voice, her touch. With every moment that passed, he grew more pissed off, because he couldn’t have her.

  Here he had a perfectly fuckable female, and he couldn’t lay a hand on her.

  It was torture.

  But there was no damn way he’d go back to where he’d been a few months before. Adam knew if he started something with Rachel, he’d be in that same fucked-up place he’d been with Lori and Danny. He’d known Rachel for twenty-four hours, and he could already tell she wasn’t the type who’d be a passing fancy, the kind of woman he’d fuck once and be done with. Yes, they were stuck together, and maybe his lust was multiplied because she was the only woman available. But he knew he wanted her despite that. If he’d found a group of women on the freeway yesterday, he would’ve still chosen Rachel. He could’ve picked her up out of a line up. He could look into her clear blue eyes forever, and kiss those lips all day. Even though he’d said that shit to her last night, the truth was, she was smart. She might not be physically strong, and she was defenseless as hell, but she was adaptable. And he respected that. He could work with her, teach her what she needed to know.

  He couldn’t treat this lightly. With Rachel, either he was all in or all out. And he was staying out. If he fucked Rachel, he’d think she was his…until the moment she wasn’t. Because she would eventually wise up and dump his ass. That was the pattern. And he wouldn’t know she was out until he found her leaving him for someone else, some other survivor they’d meet who didn’t get off on watching another man’s cock pounding into his woman’s pussy.

  She turned and locked eyes with him. “Can you pull over? I have to pee.”

  “Yeah. No problem. I could use a bathroom break too.”

  Adam pulled off the silent freeway in Oxnard and drove to the back of a Costco so they could do double duty—piss and look for supplies. They’d stepped out of the Hummer and barely had time to close their doors when they heard a gunshot.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” Adam cursed under his breath. Random gunfire in an urban setting? Shit. This was exactly what he’d feared. Assholes on the loose.

  “Was that—”

  “Yeah.” He snapped his fingers. “Follow me.” Two more shots echoed sharply through the empty streets. He looked around the shopping mall to get his bearings. Adjacent to Costco was another big box store. His first instinct was to get Rachel the fuck away from here, as far away from the violence as possible, but he knew he had to investigate. There might be someone who needed his help.

  “You stick with me. You’re my second skin,” he told her. White-faced, Rachel nodded and stepped close. He ran in the direction of the shots, Rachel right behind. He was keeping her close and making sure he didn’t lose her, cutting through the parking lot, using abandoned vehicles as coverage. In front of them was a grocery store, behind it a city side street. This close, he could hear shouts coming from that location, as if a crowd had gathered.

  “Adam, people!” Rachel gasped from behind him.

  Adam stopped at the corner of the building, turned and whispered in her ear. Which brought him right up against her body, his nose in her hair, her skin almost pressed against his. Fuck. “We’re going to assess the situation before we do anything stupid, like talk to them,” he bit out and then faced away from her. Christ, this girl was his kryptonite.

  “Okay, okay.” Rachel clutched his shirt from behind, her breath hard against his back. He held his gun up and glanced around the edge. Finding it clear, he grabbed her hand and ran to shelter behind two Dumpsters that faced the road. He hun
ched down and pulled Rachel with him, both of them squatting in a small space between the metal siding of the garbage Dumpsters and the wall of the store. A line of palm trees and a dense row of overgrown shrubbery blocked them from view. It wasn’t great cover. If shooting started, he’d have to fall back, but it was a good lookout position.

  “Oh no,” Rachel whispered.

  Adam zeroed in on the action. Across the street, a group of men had gathered in the parking lot of an office building. Men who immediately made his soldier instincts blast into biblical proportions. Gleaming Harleys were parked everywhere. The men dressed in leather cuts as if they all belonged to the same fucking motorcycle gang. Apparently, any assholes who’d survived seemed to have found each other. A moment later, the suspicious group shifted, and he could see his instincts were right. In the middle of their semi-circle, they held a man and a woman captive, both on their knees. One gang member had a gun pressed to the man’s forehead.

  “Don’t shoot him,” the woman screamed, the anguish in her voice tearing a hole through Adam’s chest.

  “Oh no,” Rachel repeated.

  Adam cursed. Then he counted. Twenty. There were twenty fuckers over there. All of them packing. He had a lot of firepower on him, but it still wasn’t enough. Damn. Nothing good would come from this.

  “See all these men?” The asshole who held the gun to the man’s head yelled to the woman. He was tall and muscular, with a deep voice that carried well across the street. “You’re going to service us, fuck us. Not him. We haven’t seen any other women since the end. You’re it. So that means none of us here have time for niceties. You’re ours and that’s it.”

  “Over my dead body,” the man on his knees snarled.

  There was a murmur from the group. Men shifting restlessly.

  “Oh really?” the motorcycle guy said with a tone that could slice metal. “Well, let’s take care of that then.” He coldly executed the man, shooting him in the head, blood spraying in the air. The man’s limp form fell over and crashed to the ground.