by Toby Neal
Her rejection hit like a blow to the midsection, knocking the air right out of him. He was breathless with the pain. He’d worked so hard to amass all of this, so he could take care of her, of the family. What would she say about his holdings in North Fork, about the potential medical clinic in that little town that he’d purchased for her to work in?
She’d likely spit on it.
And on him, too, for trying to do anything to make her life better, easier.
He shut down, smoothing the expression deliberately out of his face, tightening his jaw into a hard-bunched line, flicking on the headlights as he focused on the road. Traffic was light, so that meant they could go further, faster. The high beams slashed through the darkness as the Humvee drove on through the night.
When Dolf finally dared to glance over at her, Avital was curled in the seat, sleeping, his cat in her arms. The sight melted his anger and hurt. Damn her. She’d always be able to stomp on his heart any old time she wanted to, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
Chapter Twelve
Avital
Avital woke as the Humvee pulled into a stand of tall trees. The headlights cut through the forest exposing bark and leaves, illuminating them in harsh light from the side, rather than starlight from above. She sat up quickly and grabbed for the gun in her pocket, dislodging Slash into the footwell with an annoyed meow.
“It’s okay,” Dolf said, his voice deep and soft. “I need to rest. We’ll stay here for a few hours and get some sleep.”
Avital looked over as he climbed out of the Humvee. Slash jumped onto Dolf’s seat and curled into a ball. She sat for a moment longer, letting her mind clear. The memory of killing that man came back to her in full vivid color with surround sound; the choking gasps of his last breaths echoed in her ears.
Avital got out of the car, anger replacing revulsion. Dolf was such an idiot! What was he thinking, hiring those guys? They’d have been fine, just the two of them.
She stomped around the side of the truck and found Dolf lowering a ladder from the roof of the vehicle. With a few moves, Dolf opened a rooftop tent.
“Only one tent?” Her voice was tight and angry. She knew she sounded unreasonable and couldn’t seem to stop it.
“It’s safer to sleep together.” His jaw tightened. “I mean in the same tent.”
“I wish I had my own space.” Avital crossed her arms over her chest feeling the vial of vaccine under her breasts. She was filthy and there was blood on her shirt. She needed to change and clean herself up—and so did he.
As if reading her mind, Dolf opened the back and pulled out a jug of water. He placed a washcloth and bottle of camping soap next to the container.
“Here, if you want to wash.”
“What about clothing?”
Dolf grabbed a pack from the back and set it on the ground. Avital recognized it as a gift that Nando had given her several Christmases ago, with the promise that they would take a vacation.
They’d never used it, never taken that vacation.
Her throat squeezed and her eyes teared up looking at it, now full of supplies and whatever clothes of hers Dolf had decided to pack.
Avital took the water and the pack and went around the side of the Humvee for some privacy. Stripping off her clothing, letting air flush over her skin, she paused for a moment, inhaling a deep breath of the forest smells—pine, damp mulch, grass. She’d been in the hospital so long, surrounded by stale air and sickness. Being out in nature was a balm.
The anger twisting in her chest began to unwind as Avital cleaned herself. She stashed the vial of vaccine in the pack. Wearing fresh clothing, tying her wet hair up into a knot, she came around the Humvee, ready to apologize to Dolf for her shortness. It wasn’t his fault she’d had to shoot that man.
The flu was the real enemy—it wasn’t just taking lives, it was taking souls.
Dolf was squatted down by a ring of stones, starting a fire. He stood up and approached her, picking up a glass of red wine on his way. “Here, drink this. Medicinal purposes.”
She stared up at him. The apology didn’t make it past the lump in her throat. Where would she be without him?
“Avital.” Dolf’s voice was pitched low and gentle as he leaned toward her, holding the wine. It created an intimacy between them—and the crackling attraction that had led to one night of passion and an insane kiss in her closet vibrated the air. He’d washed and changed too, and smelled of almond soap. “You did the right thing. You’re okay.” He held her gaze. His eyes were a familiar chocolate brown, warm and decisive. Dolf never flinched from hard things. “You’re okay, do you hear me?”
She nodded.
“Good. I’m getting some food going.”
Avital collapsed into one of the two camp chairs, the glass in her hand. Images marched through her mind: the body pile on the loading dock, Rusty drowning in his blood, and Joey’s blood-splattered face.
Dolf rising above her as he thrust into her, his expression dark and intent.
She sipped the wine, trying to chase the memories away. Nausea roiled, and her jaw tightened. Oh, shit, she was going to puke.
Avital jumped up and ran into the darkness of the woods, grabbing hold of a tree as she retched into the brush. Hot acidic bile burned her throat as she heaved.
She lost the apple and bread from the car and when there was nothing left to bring up, her stomach kept cramping anyway, her body rigid and eyes streaming tears.
She heard Dolf behind her. Avital held up a hand to keep him back. “I’m fine.”
Dolf held out a washcloth. She took the warm, wet cloth and wiped her face. Then he passed her a bottle of water. She swished it around in her mouth, spitting.
“Is that a symptom?” Dolf’s s voice wavered. “Are you getting sick?”
“No,” she spat again. “I’m fine. That apple was probably bad.”
She walked back with him to the campsite. Just looking at the glass of wine made her stomach cramp. The smell of the chili Dolf was heating up brought back the nausea.
“I’m too exhausted to eat,” she said.”
Dolf helped her up the ladder, his big warm hand lightly touching her hip as she climbed into the tent. It covered the whole top of the Humvee and was almost tall enough for her to stand in.
There were twin air mattresses already inflated on the floor. Avital collapsed onto one and drew in the smell of laundry detergent from the clean linens. Slowly the illness receded as her breathing evened out.
Her mind pinged an alarm message as she was about to slip into sleep: Dolf hadn’t used protection when they had sex.
He’d come inside her so hard that she had another orgasm. The thought of him inside her, how much he’d owned her in that moment, brought on a fresh wave of arousal. Avital felt a rush of heat at the memory, and a spike of adrenaline.
Holy shit, could she be pregnant?
Yes, she could.
Avital had stopped taking her pill after her last period—before all this started—and she hadn’t had a period since. She and Nando had done it twice before he got sick. Oh, sweet Jesus, if she was pregnant…whose baby was it? Dolf’s, or Nando’s?
It was too late now. She rolled over, practicing breathing exercises until the nausea faded and sleep swept over her at last.
The rasp of the zipper woke Avital in the morning. She watched Dolf climb out of his bed, his strong legs bare below a pair of black tight boxer briefs, his chiseled back exposed—there was a diverting tan line at the top of his tight, curved ass. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he finally dropped out of sight.
She should get up, but she was just too tired to move.
Maybe he’d let her sleep a little longer.
Dawn filtered through the sides of the tent, casting a gray-blue light into the space. Her eyes fluttered closed again as her body sank deep into the mattress and pillow, the blanket over her a comforting weight.
The smell of coffee brought her fully awake even
tually. Avital climbed gingerly down from the rooftop tent. Her feet were swollen, her knees ached, and her shoulders were tight and painful from all the stress. When Avital reached the ground, she raised her arms, stretching towards the sky, letting her head fall back. Her neck hurt.
“I made you some cereal. It’s very mild, so maybe you’ll be able to keep it down.” Dolf held out a bowl of Cream of Wheat sprinkled with brown sugar. Avital’s stomach came to life, contracting with hunger at the delicious smell.
She muttered a thank you and took the bowl, forcing herself to eat it slowly to avoid getting sick again.
Dolf poured coffee, adding sugar and cream just the way she liked it, but when he passed it to her the smell brought that tickling sensation of bile back to her jaw and she shook her head. “No thanks.”
Dolf raised his eyebrows and sipped it himself, not commenting.
Should she tell him she might be pregnant?
No. It was so unlikely. There was no way that a new life could form inside her with all that she’d put her body through in the last week. Just no way.
Dolf cleaned up the camp and they were back on the road by the time the sun crested the horizon. He drove for five hours before they had to pull over next to a cornfield and refill the gas tank. Dolf used the supply he kept in the trunk. “We’ll have to get more gas. I’ve got a town picked out that’s got a lot of farms around it. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
The fumes coming off the gasoline churned Avital’s stomach and she just nodded before going into the cornfield to pee. On her return, Avital offered to drive, but Dolf shook his head. “I’m doing good. You should get some more sleep. The hospital really did a number on you.”
Avital was surprised to find that she slept until sunset, when the bright orange globe of sun beamed light through the front windshield, waking her.
Dolf looked relaxed behind the wheel, one hand resting gently on it, the other resting on his thigh. Avital wanted to reach out and take it in hers. Whenever she and Nando took long rides, he kept his hand on her leg. She’d liked the weight of it there, so reassuring. It had always made her feel loved.
Cornfields flew by on either side of them. Dolf must have configured their route so that they were on back roads, and so far, they’d seen very few other people and avoided trouble.
“I can drive for a while if you want,” she offered again.
“Maybe in a bit. I want to get as far as possible.”
The sun set, the stars came out, and night cloaked the landscape. It was just the two of them in the darkness, the headlights casting a cold glow over the interior of the Humvee.
They spent another night in the tent. Avital even managed to eat the chili that Dolf heated from a can. They sat on the camp chairs in front of the fire like two retirees enjoying their golden years, eating in silence.
“We’re making really good time,” Dolf said as they lay down in their separate beds in the tent.
“That’s great.” Avital was afraid to talk to him because his voice raised the tiny hairs on her arms and tightened her nipples into hard points. Knowing he was so close was a sweet torture. The air in the tent crackled with unspoken need, and Avital turned her back, willing herself to sleep.
Midday the next day they arrived at the town where Dolf had planned to refuel. The main street was deserted. Papers and plastic bags fluttered down the block in an errant breeze. They rolled slowly through the ghost town on high alert, both holding weapons.
Dolf pulled into the gas station, but the pumps were off, the place shuttered and locked.
“We should keep going,” Dolf said. “I’ve got a commercial farm picked out on the map. They’re bound to have gas.”
The shrill shriek of a child broke the silence of the town. Avital scanned the street but didn’t see the source of the noise—it must be coming from around the corner. She began to follow the sound.
Around the corner Avital saw a school bus parked in front of a small church. There were about ten children in the bus, and another three stood by the door, playing some kind of hand slapping game. Avital started towards them.
“What are you doing? We need to keep going,” Dolf said.
The kids spotted them and the three who were off the bus climbed back on, all of them gathering close. Where were the adults?
A girl of about twelve stood at the entrance, her arms up on either side of the door, a stern gaze leveled at Avital. “What you want?”
“Are you alone?”
“We got each other.” Her shirt and pants didn’t quite meet and there was a rash on the girl’s stomach. Poison ivy, probably.
“I’m a doctor. Are any of you sick?”
The girl narrowed her eyes. There was a murmur of talk from the rest of the kids. A little boy spoke up. “Debra, maybe she can look at Sam’s arm.”
“How can we trust you?” Debra looked over at Dolf. Avital glanced back at him. Dolf was standing about five feet behind her, arms crossed over his chest, his guns obvious in the bright noonday sun as he glared at the bus. She gave him a “what the hell are you doing?” scowl. He snorted and turned away, scanning the area.
“I can help you. Do you have any food? Are you hungry?”
Debra’s eyes widened and the kids gathered closer behind her. “I’m hungry,” one girl said. Avital’s heart was breaking. This was too sad. These children had banded together and were living on a bus. She went on board. They had blankets and were sleeping on the seats. She found Sam, a child of eight or so, his face pale and his arm bent unnaturally, cradled against his chest.
“That arm looks like it hurts.” Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “I’m Dr. Luciano. Let me take a look at it.”
Debra nodded and the kids flowed out of the school bus. Some carried small baseball bats and one of the boys held a crowbar.
Avital turned to call out the door of the bus to Dolf. “Go get my doctor bag.”
She’d spied it the day before when he pulled out her pack—that antique black doctor’s bag she’d kept in her closet was a hand-me-down from her father, a relic of another age. Dolf frowned at her for a moment, but Avital glared back. He finally turned and jogged down the street to the Humvee. She heard him fire it up and drive over to park behind the bus.
Avital examined Sam. The break wasn’t as severe as she’d feared. She’d fashion a splint and he’d probably heal just fine. Maybe the school bus was still drivable. How else would they get all these kids to the Haven with them?
Dolf returned with the bag and she opened it. “Dolf, check and see if this bus is working. I can drive it while you drive the Humvee and we can take these kids with us.” She glanced up at the front of the school bus. “I hope it will make it all the way to the Haven.”
Dolf didn’t move. “Can I speak to you alone for a minute?”
She glanced at him. His eyes had gone dark and hard. She knew that glare.
“Right now I’m helping a little boy with a broken arm. You’re just gonna have to wait.”
She returned her attention to Sam, and when she was done splinting his arm, the other children showed her their ailments. One little girl had a nasty cut that showed signs of infection. Avital cleaned it up and bandaged it. A boy with shaggy blond hair, big blue eyes, and a mischievous smile had a puncture wound in his foot. Finally, she put calamine lotion on Debra’s poison ivy and instructed her not to touch it. The girl frowned. “But it’s just so itchy.”
“I know. But if you don’t mess with it, it won’t spread.”
Debra nodded. “Thanks, Dr. Luciano.”
Avital smiled. It felt good to be helping these kids, making up in some small way for the life she’d taken.
“I’ll go grab some food for you guys.” Avital started towards the Humvee.
Dolf met her outside the bus and grabbed her arm. “I’ll have that word with you now.”
She tried to get away from him but he hauled her down the block, out of earshot of the kids. “What are you doing? We can’t
give these kids our food. It’s for us.”
Avital’s jaw dropped. “You want to keep all that food for yourself?” He’d shown her their supplies. In addition to a large number of canned goods, he’d packed enough freeze-dried camping meals to feed an army, or at least a school bus of children. “What is wrong with you?”
Dolf narrowed his eyes. “My concern is keeping you alive. You’re my responsibility.”
Avital wrenched free of his grip. “Nando wanted you to take care of me. Fine, I get that. Do you think Nando would leave these kids here? You think he would just get back in his fancy Humvee and drive away?”
“No, of course he wouldn’t.” Dolf stepped into her personal space and she backed up but hit the brick wall of a shuttered department store. “Nando would help those kids,” he snarled, leaning down toward her. “He would give away everything he had to someone else. But Nando’s not here. He’s dead. And you would be, too, in a matter of days, if I didn’t rein you in and protect you.” Dolf’s voice was cold.
Avital shivered under his icy stare. “You’re a monster.” Her eyes stung with tears. “You’re a horrible man.” She pushed him, forcing him to give her space, feeling the hardness of his chest—it matched the hardness of his heart. “You would make a terrible father!”
Her voice broke and she turned away, dashing to the back of the Humvee, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Dolf didn’t follow her.
Avital opened the back door of the Humvee and pulled out the bag of freeze-dried food. She grabbed a jug of water and slung the bag over her shoulder, marching back to the kids. She glanced back and saw Dolf hadn’t moved, rooted to the spot where she’d left him, those ripped arms crossed over his guns, his eyes scanning the area.
