by Coralee June
“Ash needed a bath, and I went to accompany her,” Kemper replied nonchalantly, but I heard the teasing edge in his tone, taunting the twins with the implications of his statement. Patrick’s lip quirked up in a smirk.
“I can’t even blame you, Kemp.”
I looked over my shoulder at Huxley and nodded, wordlessly indicating for him to let her out of solitary. I wanted to get to this meeting as quickly as possible. He took his time finding the key in his pocket. And before he could slide the metal into the lock, I shot my hand out and clamped down on his wrist, stopping him.
“Why?”
“Why what?” Jules asked. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready to strike. I'd come to understand Jules well during our short time together. She enjoyed conflict.
“Why go through all those theatrics? You could have explained. You didn’t have to knock me over and shove a pill down my throat.”
I watched as Jules crossed her thin arms over her chest and looked between Huxley, Patrick, and Kemper. “For starters, while you’ve been hiding away here in the deadlands, I’ve been fighting for my brothers’ lives. I joined the Resistance and helped come up with a plan. This is paradise compared to what I've been through. Maybe I was angry. Maybe I wanted a little revenge. Maybe I’ve become desensitized to death.”
I squinted my eyes in confusion. What did she expect from me? “I wasn’t trying to abandon anyone,” I said. “I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice. And you didn’t just abandon my brothers, you abandoned me.”
“I never abandoned you, Jules. I was grieving you. I thought you were dead.”
Her black pupils widened in surprise as if the concept had never occurred to her. She was so quick to assume that people would leave, she couldn’t comprehend that I had spent the last five months feeling devastated over the unknown. Jules was another person I'd lost before I ever really got her. We were at the beginning stages of a friendship and not knowing felt better than acceptance.
She coughed back whatever emotion was bubbling up in her chest before speaking. “Well. I’m alive. And fine. Your grief wasn’t necessary. It takes more than rejection to kill me.” I didn’t miss the double meaning in her words. “And now I need your help. So let me out of here so we can move forward.”
I released Huxley’s wrist so that he could let her out of solitary. And once the cage doors opened, she glided out with a frown. Passing me with her confident posture, she made her way towards the main campfire.
“Oh, and Ash?” she called out over her shoulder. “I should be honest with you. I didn’t sit you down to talk to you because I knew there was a very slim chance that it could kill you. Maverick didn’t know who the pill was for. We told him it was for another immune Companion. He has been against you using it because some people have adverse reactions. Some never wake up.”
I sucked in a breath as Huxley went still. His muscles tensed and shook, and I sensed that one of his episodes was imminent. “I was clinging to my anger because it was the only way I could do what I needed to do. You’re no use to the Resistance with a fetter.”
I understood better than anyone that we must do what we can to survive. Some risks are worth the reward. “Thank you,” I said. I appreciated that Jules never held back her punches. She was a realist and stuck to her decisions. I was glad she took the risk because I'm not sure I would’ve ever been free had she waited for the guys to give her the okay. While wrapping my arm around Huxley’s waist, I pulled my body towards his. I knew that he needed to feel me, to ground himself against me.
“You’re welcome,” Jules choked out before lifting her chin up and straightening her spine once more. Patrick and Kemper gaped at her as she walked proudly towards the meeting. They saw a heartless woman, but I saw the truth—she was just a girl doing what she had to do.
The hazy green smoke of the fire filled the space as the Scavenger elders and Aarav entered. Jules sat across from us alone until, to my surprise, Linda Stonewell joined her. Linda sauntered over to Jules while scowling at me. I was sure she had to get her own water today and was not amused by my absence. Death wasn’t an excuse.
When she settled by Jules, they didn’t acknowledge one another. I often wondered if Linda Stonewell regretted bringing Jules Black into her life. It was her arranged marriage with Josiah that led to the sequence of events that caused Josiah’s death. Even so, they sat side-by-side in wordless solidarity. Despite Jules’ new infatuation with the Resistance, Linda Stonewell still viewed her as an Elite. It made me wonder if she shared Cavil’s views on a person’s breeding surpassing all. According to him, a person's worth was dependent on their ability to afford the cure.
Aarav made his way towards the fire, ignoring the huffs of Mistress Stonewell’s disapproval at his bare feet and torso. She made it very clear what she thought of the Scavenger way of life. Linda couldn't see the beauty in their simplistic approach to living.
Just as Aarav opened his mouth to speak, it dawned on me that people from every class were here.
Walker.
Elite.
Resistance.
Scavenger.
“These new guests have raised some security concerns for our people,” Aarav explained. He gestured behind him to a row of elders with stoic expressions. “We feel that if you can be so easily found, then it is no longer safe for you to stay here.”
I wasn’t surprised. Our time in the deadlands was limited. In a way, I was happy that Jules and Mia found us. I was tired of feeling stuck in limbo.
“However, we do see the value in supporting your cause. We would like to listen to your plan for ending Cavil’s reign. Then, we will make a decision about our involvement which will mutually benefit everyone. We want to know how best to support you all while protecting our community."
Spoken like a true politician. The way Aarav commanded a space almost reminded me of Cyler. Aarav turned to stare at Jules who preened under the attention. “I guess it’s my turn then?” she asked while standing.
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she made her way towards the fire, stopping at Aarav to place her palm on his chest and bow, a sign I’d learned meant respect. She mastered the move effortlessly as if the Scavenger way of life had become second nature to her during our time apart.
“Tallis of the Western Scavenger camp is recruiting a team of the best fighters to bring down Cavil from within. We are using a brothel in the Zone to infiltrate his home. At the end of the month, a small team of Companions is going to kill Cavil in his tower in Galla.”
“A brothel?” Huxley asked.
“Walker Companions have more access than members of the Elite. They’re with Cavil and his team of soldiers when they are their most vulnerable.” It was brilliant, actually. Who else could slip under Cavil's radar?
“We’re working with a woman, Madam B. She has been very instrumental. Her girls exchange intelligence between our people. But lately, Cavil has been more picky about who he is letting into his home. With the cure becoming obsolete, only immune Walker Companions are allowed.”
I’m immune. This was my chance!
“Yes, little Walker,” Jules said, rolling her eyes. “This means you get to finally join the adults and help.” I was almost embarrassed at how pleased I looked. I rolled my eyes. When I first met Jules, I thought she was so naive. She might be younger than me, but now I felt inexperienced compared to her.
“Absolutely not,” Huxley murmured under his breath. I knew he would be an obstacle, but he didn’t have a choice. I’d do this with or without him.
“Rumor has it that you killed Lackley when the lights went dark. It’s how Tallis has been recruiting people. Everyone wants to help the "Queen of the Walkers." She threw up finger quotations to stress her point. "Forget the woman actually doing all the hard work here,” she scoffed.
My mouth dropped open in shock. They thought I killed Lackley? They were calling me Queen of the Walkers? I was no queen. I was a coward.
<
br /> “Don’t look at me that way, little Walker. I don’t like it any more than you do, but don’t go playing the victim now. Accept it. Hell, embrace it. It's going to save them.”
Patrick stood and ran his hands through his hair, looking around at the elders while taking in a deep breath, “So, what about us? What can we do?”
“You can help the Resistance in however they deem fit,” she replied with a smirk.
“I don’t like this,” Kemper grumbled. Beside me, Huxley was sitting tall, his back straight and stiff.
“The database,” Kemper finally said. He had his hand on his chin and was deep in thought. “She can’t get past the database. They’ll scan her on arrival and know who she is right off the bat." Kemper sat up and snapped his fingers. "And what about her scar? Won’t Cavil and his men think it's strange that she's had her fetter removed? And what if Cavil recognizes her, or what if, as a Companion, she’s selected to do...well...what Companions do? Too many variables. I vote no.”
Jules seemed unfazed by Kemper's line of reasoning. However, Aarav seemed interested in her response. “I agree. There seems to be a lot of vulnerabilities in this plan. We cannot provide our support unless we know it has a high likelihood of succeeding,” Aarav said.
“We have a hacker that will alter the database. He’s already working on it as we speak. We have dummy fetters that don’t electrocute but trick the guards. I’m handy with makeup, and her hair is already turning white. And she won’t be claimed by one of Cavil’s men because they’ll all be dead before it even gets to that point,” Jules assured him. Aarav stroked his chin, eyeing Jules with respect.
“So then what?” I asked. “Cavil still has guards eager to do his bidding. The problem isn’t just the men in power. There’s an entire way of thinking we have to go to war against,” I argued.
I stood and began pacing around the fire until I was standing in front of Jules. “I’ll help. But we need to have long-term solutions. We need to ensure that the next Cavil or Lackley doesn’t rise to power. We have to shut down the infrastructure.” A droplet of sweat rolled down my cheek from the heat of the fire.
“The night Cavil dies, we plan to start massive riots in the Zone," Jules replied. "The hope is Maverick will escape and figure out this cure once and for all. Then we'll get people in power that actually have good intentions for the empire. But there is a long road ahead of us before then. Right now, the priority is bringing down Cavil and his army.”
It was a plan. One without a high likelihood of succeeding. So much seemed stacked against us, but I clung to the hope that we could actually leave this all behind and end up in a better world for ourselves.
“So what about me? What about Payne? Surely you aren’t considering bringing us along?” Linda said, clutching her pearl necklace and looking around the campfire at us. I had almost forgotten that she was here. It was unlike her to be so quiet and amenable.
I looked to Aarav, praying he’d let them stay if we agreed to leave. Behind him, the elders began frantically whispering to one another. It was no secret that Mistress Stonewell hadn’t made many friends here.
“You may stay until after Cavil has been unseated. We will allow it,” Aarav said with a definitive nod, ignoring the groans of the elders. I heard someone whisper "damn" but bit back my laugh. “We will listen for updates. Should you succeed in killing Cavil, I will send word to the other camps, and we will join your cause.”
“Thank you,” Jules and I replied at the same time.
The elders stood, placing their hands over their hearts, then in unison said, “It is decided. Go with strength.”
Chapter Six
We walked in silence back to our temporary home on the outskirts of the Water camp’s camp. Although feeling determined to follow through with Jules’ plan, I wanted to comfort my guys. I held Huxley’s hand as we walked, making sure to keep him grounded. I'd gotten to the point where I could predict his moods, and I didn't want him to slip into his triggered overprotective mode. It had been a while since he'd been destructive and closed off.
As we continued down the trail, Huxley’s grip on my hand tightened. I welcomed the pain of his hold, knowing it was what he needed to feel strong. I'd prepared myself for his moodiness. But before we could get to our tent, he abruptly stopped walking and pulled me backward. Ahead of us, Patrick, Kemper, and Mistress Stonewell kept heading down the path. “We’ll catch up,” Huxley growled.
Kemper and Linda kept going, seemingly indifferent to his odd behavior. But Patrick paused, turning to look at us with uncertainty. Patrick needed to feel useful when Huxley got like this. It was his own personal atonement for what happened to his parents all those years ago. Huxley would never ask for his brother’s help.
“Come on,” I told Patrick. Unlike Hux, I wasn’t too proud to say what I needed. I needed Patrick to be okay. I needed Huxley to feel like I was safe. Navigating Huxley’s triggers was difficult, and more than anything, it was important to me that Patrick didn’t feel distanced from his brother. I made a promise long ago to Hux that I wouldn't come between them, and I wasn't going to start now.
Huxley didn’t protest. He pulled me off the trail and guided us towards the grove where we usually held our sparring sessions. We’d spent so many nights walking these woods alone together, that I could have gone to our special spot with my eyes closed.
Once by our tree, Huxley pressed me up against the rough bark, the wood scraping along my bare shoulders. And when he crashed his lips to mine, it took my breath away. My heart lost its rhythm, and the steady balance of confidence I pretended to teeter on finally toppled over. I poured my doubts, my fears, and my inadequacies into the fire of his touch. With Patrick watching, Huxley darted his tongue out, tasting me. I felt everything and nothing all at once. He drank me in like I was the last drop of water in a large basin of disappointments.
He thrust his knee between my legs and ran his hands up and down my body. The tips of his fingers grazed the sides of my breasts as he moved from hips to chest. I couldn’t remember why I was sad or what numbness I’d been clinging to. His kisses reminded me I’m worthy. His kisses tasted like home. Like Dormas. Like family and hope and all the things I’d been missing these last five months.
“You’re not going,” he growled against my mouth as I arched my back to get closer. Angry, I pulled back, but the hard bark stopped me from distancing myself too much.
“You’re not going to stop me,” I replied. I wanted my voice to sound harsh and unrelenting, but the words that escaped my clenched teeth sounded like a whimper. I craved Huxley’s kisses on a visceral level—and he knew it.
Huxley danced the tips of his fingertips along my collarbone before pushing down the straps of my grey tank top. He dived into nibbling the defined bone, causing my sensitive skin to pebble wherever his wet lips touched. I opened my eyes and was gifted with Patrick’s hooded stare. The last time he watched us, he seemed uncertain. Now, there was nothing but hope in his gaze.
“Huxley, you can’t kiss me until I forget,” I moaned out as he dragged his teeth along my skin, knowing my words held no truth. Huxley’s kisses were already making me forget.
“Are you sure? It seems to be working,” he replied with a chuckle. His hot breath feathered along my skin, making me blossom with white-hot desire.
“I thought you needed me to help you…” I wasn’t sure if he was comfortable mentioning his episodes. Nor did I want to distract him from the delicious pleasure he was washing over me. As I writhed between the rough tree and his calloused hands, I appreciated this new distraction tactic.
“The only thing I need is you coming on my cock, little Walker,” he replied.
Patrick gasped, and the sound made Huxley pause and spin around to stare at his brother with a wide smile. This was interesting—and thrilling. “Come here,” he urged. There was something sexy about knowing Patrick wanted me.
Patrick didn’t need telling twice. He practically stumbled over his feet
to get to me. Huxley moved aside, making room for Patrick, and I stared into the hungry eyes of my playful twin. For five months, I'd been in an emotionless haze, but now that hope was on the horizon, my feelings were flooding back.
“Kiss her,” Huxley ordered. Patrick was more forgiving than Huxley. He kissed me slow and sweet, licking the seam of my lips like he was asking for my consent. I was greedy with his touch, hanging on the edge of each of his movements and pressing for more.
“You’re not going, Ash,” Huxley said again. His voice was grave as he spoke. Desire dancing along each syllable of his demanding words.
I pulled back once more, earning a groan of disapproval from Patrick. “Yes, I am.” Patrick dipped his hand between my legs. Curling his finger, he stroked me with a grin as I gasped.
“You’re not going, Ash,” Huxley growled once more. “Tell me you won’t go, and we’ll give you what you want—what you need.”
I was too embarrassed to admit what his words were doing to me. I felt like a knot that had been tied tight, and the twins were pulling at the ends.
“And what is it you think I want?” I asked while placing my hands on Patrick’s shoulders. In my limited experience, I usually let the guys take the lead. But tonight, I wanted to show them just how capable I was. I ran my hands down his chest then over the bulge in his pants, slowly stroking over the denim material.
“You want us,” Huxley said while unzipping his pants and pulling out his throbbing cock. It was glorious and hard. He stroked it for me then, dragging my attention away from Patrick and onto his graceful movements.
I swallowed deeply before yanking Patrick’s hand out of my pants and dropping to my knees with a thud. The ground was dry and hard, but I kept my eyes on Huxley to my left while fumbling with the zipper on Patrick’s pants. “Are you saying I can’t have you if I go, Hux?”
