‘I don’t doubt it, Pix.’ He pushed himself off the laminate kitchen benchtop he’d been resting his ass on and took the few steps across the room to stand in front of her at the dining table. He placed his knuckles to wooden surface and he leaned in. He relished the hitch in her breath and the flutter of her pause at her gorgeous throat. ‘Forgive me?’
Her eyes narrowed, ‘Never.’
‘Never? Even if I,’ he drifted closer, delicately touched his lips to hers. ‘Kiss you,’ another brush. ‘Just like,’ one final feather. ‘This?’
Despite her ire, or maybe because of it, her lips parted under his careful attentions.
‘Especially if you kiss me like that,’ she whispered against the sensitive skin.
His smile slid into a grin. ‘You’re such a tease.’
‘And you’re such an ass.’
‘But you love me.’
Their breath escalated, mingled. This close, Nick could discern the flecks of indigo in her cobalt eyes, the swell of emotion that softened the muscles at the corners and the gloss over slick lips when a tiny pink tongue escaped to wet them.
She whispered, ‘Lucky that you’re pretty. And that I love you, yes.’
Against her lips he said, ‘Love you too, Pix.’
Her smile stretched as the lingering ice in her eyes melted and the stiffness between her shoulderblades unlocked to allow them to fall. ‘Euan is a big boy, he can look after himself. He’ll get your girl back.’
The reminder saw her jaw harden. ‘I’m still angry.’
His eyebrow cocked. ‘Want to bruise my pretty cheekbones?’
A soft sigh. ‘Not today.’
Nick leaned in, let his lips touch hers tenderly. ‘Want to do something else instead?’
She searched his face. Gentle fingers reached up and toyed with the hair that had fallen over his brow. ‘I can’t believe she left …’
And there was the crux.
Nick pushed himself from table, saw her hand fall and clench into a tiny fist on the dark-stained wood. Weariness entered her gaze even as he threaded his hands through the same strands she had touched moments before. His fingers stroked the tingling in his scalp. His chest was tight, as though a vice carefully tightened its screws. How to articulate to Kira, who knew loneliness and death, who wasn’t immune to all the depraved facets of the new world, but thankfully was ignorant to the one thing that could tear apart a soul.
The suffocating sense of invasion, of inexplicable pain, of destruction to the sense of self. ‘Sometimes, baby, when people have suffered, they don’t think straight.’
She sat back in her chair, pushed the plate to the side and let her shoulders hunch. She read the blanketed agony in his features. Her voice softened. ‘We would have protected her, helped her.’
Nick swallowed. ‘She probably didn’t see it that way.’
Her attention shifted from Nick to the hallway where the bedrooms resided, empty of anyone’s presence. ‘We shouldn’t have locked her in that room.’
‘It wasn’t being locked in a room that made her leave.’ He moved into her line of vision. His hands were gentle as they fingered her hair as she had his. The knots and waves hindered his progress. Despite the churn that still simmered in his gut, his lips hitched involuntarily. He had the opportunity to touch her. Love her.
Kira’s voice was grim. ‘She didn’t take boots or even a sweater. It’s almost winter.’
His fingers begin to massage her scalp. ‘Euan will find her and make sure she gets everything she needs.’
The heavy sigh she emitted saw her deflation. A tick in the muscle of her cheek was the only tell to her frustration. Nick understood her despondency. Their bunker was rustic, but it was set up as a home. Kira’s crafts were mounted on the walls, placed within frames that the two of them had perfected after learning the art of woodwork from books. Animals made from twisted wire were placed carefully on shelves that also showcased drawings made by Euan’s rough hand in rare moment of conciliatory respite.
Their kitchen was basic, but it was well stocked. Eggs, rabbit meat and vegetables were kept fresh in a small fridge. Flour, salt, sugar, oil and other basic essentials, which Kira’s brother had hoarded in the years leading up to the plague. It meant that their calorie intake was high, varied and offered them all the vitamins and minerals the human body needed to remain at peak condition.
And yet, despite everything they could offer, the terrified thing had fled.
Kira’s head turned in his hand; her cheek rested against his palm. ‘When they get back, we’re going to show her that things are different here.
Nick gave her a small smile. ‘That’s a good start.’
Her answer was to narrow her eyes. Nick braced.
‘When he gets back, we tell Euan too.’
‘Okay,’ Nick answered slowly, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.
She pushed out of her chair and stood on her bare feet. His height eclipsed hers. It forced her to tip her face up. There was a determined tilt to her chin. Her blue eyes became hardened stones. Nick searched her face and his mouth tightened at what he saw.
She was resolute. ‘We will tell him that I’m not staying down here any longer. Being down here, or up there, it doesn’t make a difference.’
He moved his hand from her hair to her shoulder. ‘It does to him.’
Kira let him caress her skin, and her features softened. ‘I know, which is why I conceded. But we both know that I need to be a part of this. And so does she.’
Nick crossed his arms across his chest. ‘Kira—’
‘No, Nick,’ she snapped. ‘This has to stop. If we’re going to recreate a world that’s better than this mess, where men and woman are equal, where the things that happened to both you and to her never happen again, then it has to start with us.’
It was Nick’s turn to sit. His ass fell to the timber chair with a grunt. ‘It’ll kill him.’
Kira was relentless. ‘It’s already killing him.’
She was right. God, so fucking right. Nick inhaled and looked towards the ceiling, thinking of the big man. He’d gained significant bulk the first few weeks after they’d found this sanctuary. Both of them had. But ever since he’d discovered that boot print pressed into the soil outside their home, he’d plateaued. Then their last night together, as his eyes had glimmered in the limited light with lust and want, they had also been smudged with dark circles, testament to his continuous lack of sleep. His body had vibrated with desire, but his mind was never fully engaged in them, in their love. Even when he’d finally come, he’d still held back; his hands had been gentle with the two of them, his words soft and tender.
That wasn’t the Euan Nick knew. But it was more than that, Euan was not just the hulking brute that grumbled at them and took up too much room in bed. He was their rock, their refuge, the safety he provided through nothing more than his tenacious devotion and fastidious caretaking. He loved them with everything that made him whole. It also meant that he bore the full weight of their protection on his shoulders.
A burden that was slowly destroying him.
‘Okay,’ he said.
Kira startled. ‘I mean it, Nick.’
Nick reached out and took her hand. He parted his legs and pulled her until she stood between them. He laced his fingers with her own. ‘I know you do, Pix. And I’m with you.’
She searched his face, her eyes pleaded for him to tell her the truth, for his words of support and agreement to be everything she yearned for. ‘You are?’
Nick offered her a wry smirk. ‘I did have three older sisters. I know when I’m beat.’ He brought her knuckles to his lips. ‘But even if I didn’t, I’m not gonna fight you on this. ’Cause it’s true.’
Her lips parted as he began to nibble at her fingers down to the sensitive skin at her wrist. Her words were no more than a whisper. ‘I love you.’
He smiled against her skin, his gaze held hers. ‘Good.’
Kira hissed as
be began to tongue the webbing between her digits, and his smile stretched into a wicked grin. He tugged her so she fell against his chest, her soft body warm against his.
The aggressive bleating of the alarm reverberated through their home.
The trip-wire mechanism that surrounded the aboveground house had been activated.
Somebody was coming.
Chapter 13
Euan should have slept.
He should have taken greater care in their journey home. He’d become complacent. Men still roamed the roads, still raided the houses that lined the highway, still headed north or south, east or west, nowhere, everywhere, ultimately trying to find shelter, protection, refuge.
There was no refuge; everything was fractured, withered, destroyed.
Like the leaves that crumbled under each of his footfalls.
Everything was a visceral reminder that his body required sustenance to survive. The added weight of Smith’s lean body. The adrenaline that diminished in his veins. The sweat that dripped down his forehead and into his eyes despite the chill in the air. The aggressive thud of his heart.
In the last two days, he’d consumed not a single bite of their rations.
The sudden knowledge that he hadn’t noticed the absence was testament to both his state of mind and his heightened anxiety.
He should have done many things.
But none of it mattered now.
Every breath was measured and every footstep was intentional. The highway was far behind, the emptiness of the swaying grassland and uncultivated pasture long past. The derelict houses with their broken windows and open doorways. The dark, gaping maws in crumbling facades were a scattered memory.
His relief was physical when he finally entered the familiar forest. It took more effort than it should have to keep his knees from collapsing with gratitude. His large hand wrapped around the slender trunk of single immature oak tree. Its young bark was smooth under his fingers. Naked branches, empty embankments, logs, stones and dips were all recognisable. The hushed quiet of this woodland spoke to his soul and his body answered with a gratifying sigh.
Glancing to the sky, heading south, he ran in the direction of the trip-wire that was hidden in the trees. Lily’s hand was warm in his. The efforts to enter the safety of this forest had thawed even her frozen bones. His body was spent, his mind was overwhelmed, but he pushed on, and forced her to follow.
It was an incomprehensible risk to journey directly to the homestead. The trip-wire was the only solution open to him. In their haste, they’d lost the luxury of being discreet. His tendency to be mindful of their trail and the impact they had on their environment vanished with his impatience, and subsequently, it wouldn’t take much for a curious intellect to follow the two boot prints into the woods. Especially considering one set was undeniably feminine.
He stumbled. Smith cursed. Lily panted. Sweat darkened the hair at her temples. Smith’s blood soaked the fabric of Euan’s parka down along his spine.
When Euan finally spied one of the few pine trees that were scattered throughout the forest, he almost sobbed with joy. When he discovered that the silver thread that lay hidden in the copious leaf litter was tight, undisturbed and intact, an ember of solidified gratefulness clogged his throat. The backs of his eyes stung.
The wire was cold in his hand. A sliver of ice in the dirt. He jerked at it until it was loose.
Deep under the ground, an alarm would now blare. Nick would begin to implement a predesigned plan.
When he straightened, Smith grunted, ‘Put me down, I can walk.’
Euan’s reply was distracted. ‘I need you to run.’
‘I can run too,’ Smith gritted, and despite the urgency, twisted out of Euan’s clinch.
He hit the ground hard and rolled. Mud and blood caked his fatigues. The wilful hold on his crimson jaw was the only thing that stopped a cry of pain to pass his split lips.
Euan did not keep the scepticism from his features. The exposed skin on Smith’s cheeks and throat were stained red. One eye was beginning to swell where he’d taken a fist to the face. His beard was a sticky mass of bloodied blond hair. The material at his chest was saturated, the fabric absorbing the leak.
Euan should have taken the time to stem the flow.
Instead, a nod was the answer to an unspoken question. They didn’t have time to argue.
He handed Smith a second knife he kept in his boot. ‘No more bullets, yeah?’
Smith took the weapon with a nod, and palmed the handle as though the weight was familiar. Then he turned to Lily, held out his free hand to her.
She eyed the bloody palm and took it without hesitation. Her slender hand slipped from his own as the two of them reacquainted. They shared a closeness that only two companions who had suffered the same torments could achieve.
Euan led the way. He kept their pace swift, and despite their ailments they moved quickly through the trees. But their bodies began to show the signs of undeniable fatigue. Their breath laboured, which created frosty clouds in their wake. Their boots stumbled over exposed rocks, fallen logs and saplings that struggled to reach the sky under the consuming weight of their forefathers.
Euan’s blood pumped in his ears. He pushed past the sound to keep his senses attuned to his surroundings. The wildlife was dormant, the wind sparse. It allowed his fear to bite into him without mercy.
Despite this, Euan purposefully extended their journey as he crossed his own path multiple times. He looked for tracks that may have followed them unnoticed. It was a gruelling necessity to ensure they were not discovered. When, finally, he was irrevocably convinced that they’d killed the only trespassers, they made it to their final destination.
The cluster of briar bushes was tangled together, their branches interwoven and linked. Thorns protruded with angry intent. The dormant grey-green bark was smooth.
Euan ignored the spikes and thorns. He pushed the scrub back with his free hand and found the entry to the escape hatch hidden in the cold earth. It could only be opened from the inside. Their plan was that if they could, someone from the bunker would be there to open if for those trapped outdoors. If no one opened the hatch, it meant that the bunker, and those in it, were compromised.
Euan brushed back the final layer of debris and banged on the steel three times with his fist.
Then he prayed.
There was a terrible pause. The rational part of his brain saw reason. Logistically, it would take time. But the wait was unbearable. Visions assailed his mind of Nick strung up on a meat hook. Of Kira suffering unfathomable tortures. Of their home being tainted and destroyed by cruel men.
There was a thunk.
The hatch swung open and Nick’s beautiful face was visible through the dark portal.
Euan scrunched his eyed closed and hung his head. ‘Thank fuck,’ he breathed.
Nick’s perfect features were twisted in apprehension. Seeing those jade eyes, laced with concern, made Euan’s resolve falter. The thought of leaving this man in the pursuit of death …
‘Sweet Jesus,’ Nick cursed when he reviewed the bloodied man at Euan’s side. It jerked him back from his defective thoughts. Nick gave him one final, meaningful glance, then he shuffled back down the narrow ladder to accommodate their entry.
Euan turned to Lily. ‘Get down.’
Their eyes met for a heartbeat. Golden-whisky fused with molten molasses. Euan saw fear and a desperate relief in those depths. The woman swallowed before she nodded and moved to the hole in the ground.
Smith was quick to follow and once he was sure they were safe, Euan stood and quickly covered the nearby tracks. His hands shook as he bushed leaf litter over the boot prints. His chest remained tight as he righted the broken branches and fallen logs that had been displaced in their flight. Once he was confident, and with one final scan of the thick undergrowth, he squeezed his large body through the narrow portal in the ground.
The hatch closed with a satisfying bang. The locking mechan
ism was a comforting thud.
His boots were loud as they hit the numerous steel rungs of the ladder that led down to the tunnel. A tunnel that would take them back to the interior of the bunker.
The passageway was only big enough for a single man to crawl through at a time. He put his knife in his teeth and followed Smith. Their shuffles and the ragged pants for air were heightened in the dark. The moist trail of blood greased the palms of his hands and soaked the fabric at his knees. The taste of iron in his mouth almost made him gag. Nick’s flashlight, the single beacon of light, waved erratically along the grey walls. It gave only sporadic glimpses of an endless wall of curved concrete.
His senses intensified without his vision. Smith’s wheezes were beyond that of a wounded man. They shifted into that of a boy consumed by panic. Euan was on the edge of humanity with him. He ached, he hungered. The dread stole rational thought.
He was suffocating under the weight of the blackness that surrounded him.
It was Nick’s voice that pulled him from the precipice. It echoed and every reverberation struck Euan in the sternum. ‘Kira’s safe. And the bunker hasn’t been breached. Nothing on the video feeds, just the trip-wire alarm.’
Euan’s relief was profound. He swallowed the emotion that crawled up his throat.
Then there was light. Smith’s body was being pulled from his view. Euan’s eyes burned with the brightness. His face was wet from the sweat, the exertions, the emotions. His limbs were heavy, there was a weightlessness …
He couldn’t understand why the fibres from the carpet made his cheek itch. The loud noises in the room annoyed him. He closed his eyes and wished he could simply sleep. Maybe then his chest wouldn’t hurt so much.
There were fingers in his beard. Feminine fingers. The fingers of a woman. They were gentle and tender. They passed over his eyebrows, through the short cropped hair, down his throat and back up to his ears.
Those fingers were followed by lips. Soft lips, pressing to his. They were silky. They were gentle.
They were perfect.
Kira.
His eyes flickered open.
Fractured Refuge Page 12
