by Kate L. Mary
Kellan yanked the keys out of the ignition. His cheeks were pink from the drive, but it was subtle enough that most people wouldn’t notice. I did, because I was staring at him. A fact I didn’t really register until he turned my way and his brown eyes grabbed mine.
Heat flared up my neck to my cheeks and I looked away, focusing on the bag at my feet instead of the man at my side. This was how things had been between us lately, but I wasn’t sure why I’d found myself paying more and more attention to him as days passed. Okay, that was a lie. I knew. I just couldn’t figure out what had shifted between us or why, after all this time, I suddenly found Kellan desirable. I’d known him literally forever and nothing about our situation had changed over the last nine years. He still got under my skin faster than anyone else had ever been able to, and he still often reverted to treating me like I was his spoiled little sister, which only irritated me more. Yet over the last year, I’d found myself more and more distracted in his presence.
“You okay?” he asked after a moment of silence.
I ventured a look up. His black hair had fallen over his forehead, nearly covering one of his eyes, but they were still focused on me. He shoved the hair back before absentmindedly running his hand across his jaw. It was dotted with sparse stubble that I knew from experience would be soft against my skin, which was different from the stubble Cade and Blake sported. I’d felt the tickle of Kellan’s facial hair before, more than once, but last summer was the first time I’d become aware of it. We’d been goofing off, and he’d lifted me up, pretending he was going to throw me into what was left of the river, and his chin had rubbed the back of my neck. The brush of his soft stubble against my skin had sent a shiver down my spine, nearly making my toes curl. Even now, almost a year later, the memory of it was still vivid in my mind, causing bumps to pop up on my skin.
I pushed my door open, tearing my gaze from his. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
When I climbed out, the June heat pounded down on my head like it was trying to light me on fire. I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the sky, allowing the heat from the sun’s sweltering rays to push my unease away. The streets inside the settlement were bustling with activity—thankfully. It would give me something to focus on other than Kellan.
Flies buzzed around me, landing on my cheek and neck, and I waved my hand in front of my face in an attempt to shoo them away. It wouldn’t work, and I knew it, but I couldn’t stand the little pests—especially knowing the last thing they’d landed on had most likely been one of the dead—and I never gave up trying. The flies had always been bad, but the population had exploded since the apocalypse and had grown progressively worse with the drought. Now, it was impossible to escape them no matter where you were.
I was still waving my hand in front of my face when I opened my eyes, and I had to squint as I looked around. The Altus settlement was set up in a literal square, concentrated in what had formerly been the downtown area. It had been easy enough to fortify in the early days of the zombies, because the rows of buildings on each side were connected, creating four sides of what now made up the wall. Back then, the survivors simply had to create new walls to block off the streets, then board up any back doors and windows that might leave them vulnerable. It had worked well, and as more and more people wandered into the settlement, the buildings that had at one time housed stores, restaurants, and other businesses, had been emptied and repurposed into functional living spaces. Now, more than nine years later, the town was thriving. There was only one other settlement within reasonable driving distance even worth our time when we headed out to trade, although Kellan and I came here more often. Mostly because, once upon a time, Altus had been our home.
I tossed my goggles onto the passenger seat before shutting the car door. On the other side, Kellan was already scanning the area. The place was safe and secure, but that was just his way. Mr. Responsible. He was always checking our surroundings when we were out, never relaxed until he was positive things were secure. If I didn’t know him almost as well as I knew myself, I’d think he was uptight. He wasn’t, though. Kellan had a fun side, a soft side, too. He liked to joke around, liked to tease me until I got mad, and then he’d throw his head back and laugh. It was infuriating, but adorable at the same time.
When he needed to get work done, though, he was all business.
“Let’s trade first,” he called as he nodded toward the market on the far side of the square.
He took off, and I had to jog to catch up. People nodded as we passed, a few I recognized, although most were strangers. At least to me. Kellan had come here a lot more often, so it was entirely possible the people who called out the occasional hello weren’t strangers to him. Something I was very aware of when we passed a woman and she purred out a seductive greeting that got lost somewhere between a hello and an invitation.
“A friend of yours?” I asked, eyeing the woman whose curves made my long, lean frame look childish in comparison.
Kellan shot a look my way, and despite the severe mask he wore when out, the corner of his mouth twitched. “Something like that.”
I pulled my backpack up higher on my shoulder as I glanced back at the woman. She’d kept walking, but the way she was swaying her hips told me she was hoping Kellan was paying attention. Too bad for her, I looked back to find his gaze on me, his eyes twinkling with a teasing light I was more than familiar with.
“Is that why you came with me today?” Heat licked at my cheeks at the implication that I’d come to have some alone time with him, and I’d just opened my mouth to protest when he said, “Maybe you’re looking to meet someone?”
I slammed my mouth shut when my cheeks grew hotter. He hadn’t been referring to himself or thinking about the two of us together. No, he was asking if I’d come here hoping to meet someone new.
“Get real,” I muttered as I reached back and twisted my long, brown hair into a knot on the top of my head.
The knowledge that I’d so thoroughly misinterpreted his question made it impossible for me to look him in the eye, so I focused on the ground as I walked, instead of Kellan.
The once smooth street had fissured and cracked over the years, and just like everywhere else, weeds grew from the openings. Here, the townspeople had at least made an effort to control Mother Nature, and the green that had made its way through the cracks was minor. Still, it was there, and for some reason, more than anything else, the sight of those green sprigs poking through the cracks made me think back to what this town had been like before all this. To the close-knit community and the annual events that had been held right here in this very spot. Chili cook-offs, the Rock N’ Rumble car show, the yearly Walkin’ On Chalk contest where community members would decorate whole sections of the sidewalk in brightly colored drawings. These were the events I’d attended for the first twelve years of my life, and back then I’d thought things would never change. Altus had been a small town, and secluded, but it had been home. Now, though, it was gone. It had disappeared like everything else normal and familiar, as if carried away by a large gust of wind.
“Do you remember it?” I asked, tearing my gaze from the ground so I could focus on Kellan. “Life before the zombies, I mean.”
His brows furrowed like he was thinking it through, but he probably didn’t have to think that hard. Kellan was fifteen when the virus killed off the world.
“I remember,” he finally said, and his gaze moved past me, toward the other side of town like he was trying to see his old house. “I remember it all.”
He only looked that way for a few seconds before he was once again focused on me. Something about the way his gaze moved over me made the hair on my scalp prickle. I ran my hand over my head, trying to smooth down any stray hairs, or even force my body to obey me, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t been able to control it in nearly a year, thanks to my sudden realization that Kellan was not only a man, but a very attractive one on top of that.
He blew out a long, deep breath before once agai
n focusing on the street in front of us. “Let’s get this over with so we can grab a drink.”
When Kellan started walking faster, I was forced to practically run to keep up. It was almost like he was trying to run away from me. That couldn’t be right, though. Kellan was probably just thinking about the things we’d lost. Our families. Our friends. Our futures.
2
In the center of town, we passed a fenced in area where horses milled about, nipping at the little bit of green that had somehow thrived despite the drought. Flies buzzed through the air, circling the animals, and they twitched their ears and tails in an attempt to chase the pests away.
Around here, it wasn’t uncommon to see people riding horses. Animals didn’t need gas or a mechanic, and they didn’t break down in the middle of nowhere. The area surrounding Altus had at one time been ripe with farms and ranches. Not to mention the fact that a horse could outrun a zombie with no problem. I knew one day our pathetic excuses for transportation would die, and we’d be forced to ride horses as well. Not that I was looking forward to it.
My shirt was clinging to my body by the time we reached the market. It was on the opposite side of the square from where we’d come in, located in a building that had already been empty when everything went to shit. The room was big and open, and twice as airy as it used to be since the windows had been knocked out years ago by a passing storm. Rickety booths were crammed into the room by the dozens, and around them people milled, some with empty hands while others had their arms overflowing with goods. Every booth had something different. Homemade soaps, herbs grown in greenhouses, and mushrooms that had no doubt been scavenged far away from here where the landscape was greener and the drought not so severe. There were even small animals like rabbits, baby chicks, and turtles—which were perfect for stew, as well as things like weapons and clothes. Pretty much anything a person might need to survive this world was available in the market.
I studied the people we passed, taking in their worn clothes and faces streaked with dirt. As a whole, the people in this settlement were doing well, but it was all relative these days. They were thriving compared to how things could have been, learning to make do with the little they had, but they still looked ragged and worn when I compared them to my memories of the old world. Women with makeup, jewelry, and hair color that had come from a bottle had been replaced by gray roots and tired eyes with bags under them. Designer clothes had become shirts and pants patched together over and over again until fixing them was no longer possible, and even then some other purpose would surely be found for the cloth. Bedding for animals, or even bandages to wrap injuries in. Nothing that could be repurposed was thrown away these days.
Less than halfway into the building I paused to inspect a pair of boots. They weren’t new—nothing was anymore—but the soles were thicker than the pair I currently wore and had minimal wear. I pried them open and peered inside, barely noticing the stink of sweaty feet as I searched for the size. They were a half a size too big, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t wear them in winter and double up on socks.
“What do you want for them?” I asked the man at the booth.
He was fifty, maybe, and scrawny, a head shorter than I was and thin like a twig. Despite his small stature, he had a glint in his eye when he looked me up and down that had me reaching for my knife. I didn’t pull it out, but I did wrap my fingers around it just in case.
“What you got?” He nodded at my pack while his eyes zeroed in on my chest.
I knew what he was referring to even if he was trying to act like he was asking for a trade of goods, and the idea not only made my skin crawl, but also made me wonder what the hell was wrong with men. His eyes were zeroed in on my boobs like they were something to brag about, only they weren’t. I’d developed little buds at the age of thirteen that had barely grown since then. It didn’t even matter that bras were hard to come by these days, because I had no real need for one.
The man’s tongue jutted out, licking his cracked lips, while his gray eyes stayed focused on my breasts. He ran his hand over his head, smoothing down the few hairs. They were gray and wiry, and matched his eyebrows, as well as the scraggily beard on his face.
“I have an apple.”
The man’s eyes shot up, my breasts forgotten. “Apple?”
I released my knife and slid my hand into my pack. When I pulled out the shiny, red fruit, the man’s mouth dropped open.
“Where did you…” He couldn’t finish the sentence because he was too focused on the apple. His mouth was open, and after a second he had to swallow as if saliva had pooled in it.
“I traded with someone who was passing through,” I lied. “But I need the boots.”
The man reached for the apple, but I pulled it back, just out of his reach. “Do we have a deal?”
He nodded, reminding me of the bobblehead that had sat on my older brother’s dresser when we were kids. “Yeah. Take them. Take them.”
I held the boots to my chest, and the man snatched the fruit out of my hand. He didn’t glance my way once as he sank his brown teeth into the apple, letting out a sigh that almost sounded orgasmic in the process.
I tied the shoelaces together and slung the boots over my shoulder before turning away. Kellan had stopped walking and stood only six feet from me, watching. Frowning. He had his arms crossed and that look on his face again, but I didn’t care. The apple had been a part of my rations, and if I decided to trade the thing rather than eat it, that was my choice. Although I doubted Kellan would see it that way.
“Boots.” I patted my shiny new possessions when I stopped in front of him.
“I can’t believe you brought an apple here.” Kellan leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Do you know what kind of attention you’re bringing us?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped when I realized people all over the room were staring at me. Watching. I looked back to find the man sucking on the core of the already devoured apple, and the eyes of everyone around him were either focused on his actions, or on me. Shit. Kellan, as much as I hated to admit it, was right.
“I didn’t think about it,” I mumbled.
“What was that?” Kellan lifted his eyebrows expectantly, once again making him seem like he was trying to be my father.
“You’re not my dad, so get off my back,” I muttered instead of admitting—again—that I’d been impulsive and reckless.
I shoved past him and kept moving through the market. There were a few other goodies stashed in my bag, but I now knew I couldn’t trade them. And there was no way in hell I’d let Kellan know I’d brought them. One mistake he would let go, but four? No way. I’d be hearing about that for years.
Kellan was right on my heels, close enough that when he started talking, his breath brushed against the back of my neck. “Fine, I’m not your dad, but I am the asshole who’s responsible for you.”
“Responsible for me?” I stopped and spun to face him. “What makes you think you’re responsible for me?”
“Because we—” he jerked his thumb back and forth between the two of us, “—have been together since the beginning. I found you, and I took care of you before Jasper found us. I kept you alive.”
I lifted my chin and glared up at him. “We kept each other alive. Don’t fool yourself, Kellan. You were as much a kid as I was.”
“I was a teenager. Fifteen. You were a twelve-year-old, scared little girl.”
He flung the words my way like he was trying to hurt me, and he succeeded. It was a low blow and one he rarely stooped to, and it hit the mark.
I took a step back, blinking when tears clogged my throat, threatening to fill my eyes. “Sorry to be such a pain in the ass.”
Kellan’s expression softened. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” A tear escaped from the corner of my eye without my permission, and I swiped it away. “I remember.”
“Regan, I was fifteen. I was a kid and—”
> I cut him off by lifting my hand. “Forget it. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the damn apple.”
The boots draped across my shoulder seemed to have tripled in weight, and I found myself wishing I could go back in time and not get them. Not bring the apple, and maybe not even come on this run with Kellan. Blake or Cade would have been more than happy to be here right now. Even Emma. I was the baby of the family, though, and when I’d said I wanted to come, everyone had both encouraged it as a way for me to gain confidence, as well as tried to talk me out of it. Which had only made me want to come even more.
“I won’t do it again.”
I tried to turn my back on Kellan, but before I could, he grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. My face was pressed to his very firm chest when he wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t the first time we’d hugged, not by a long shot, but it was the first time since I’d become aware of how solid he was, and how warm.
“I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
His face was pressed against the top of my head when he spoke, and the very stubble I’d been thinking about not fifteen minutes ago tickled my scalp. I swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, let alone talk. I was torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to stay in this spot forever. It was a hard decision to make, especially when it felt like my brain had turned to mush.
“I’m sorry,” he said when I didn’t talk.
I nodded because I didn’t want him to think I was still angry. The truth was, I was only angry at myself. I should’ve been smarter than this by now. I should’ve known not to bring the apple.
Kellan pulled away but kept his hands on my shoulders as he looked down at me. The top of my head only came up to his mouth, despite my long, lanky frame, and when I peered up through my eyelashes, I could only focus on his lips.
God, what was wrong with me? I wasn’t a teenager anymore, so I had no clue why I felt like a bundle of hormones. I blamed Emma. She was the one with the stash of romance novels, and lately she’d had no problem sharing the books with me. I’d stayed up one too many nights reading stories about damsels in distress and the big, strong men who rode in to save them. That was all it was.
