Fight of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 3)

by Coralee June

  "Calgore of Saberus," Josiah said. "He's perfect. Wealthy, smart, good friends with Lackley, questionable morals. It would be believable. Didn’t he invent fetters?"

  "You're going to have to tell them at a point where it’s believable, Josiah. And it needs to be just enough so Cavil can guess but not enough information for him to know for sure," Cyler said in a low voice.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "He wants me to wait until they're beating the shit out of me. Then he wants me to give them just enough of a clue to lead them on a wild goose chase but not enough information to make them feel like they can go ahead and kill me. Quite the gamble, Black."

  "I have a feeling you're up to the challenge."

  Josiah coughed again, and I furrowed my brow as he leaned back against the wall. "Ash, can you come back here tomorrow?" Josiah asked.

  "You seriously think that's a good idea?" Cyler interrupted. "Selfish prick."

  "I need to see her!" Josiah raised his voice.

  "Coming here not only wouldn't be safe but also really fucking cruel. How could you want her to see you like this? Blan was already a crazy fucker, but now it’s personal. We need to keep her far away from him."

  Josiah slumped his shoulders, and his head rolled forward before he perked back up. "Why don't you let Ash decide?"

  They both went quiet, and I took a moment to think. "When you love someone, you want what’s best for them, Jo. Even if it means accepting that what’s best doesn't include you." I stood and turned to leave the dirty Ethros prison when Josiah spoke.

  "Why do you think I fucking let you go to Dormas in the first place? Why do you think I've done all of this? Everything I did was for you, Ash. Everything. So don't you fucking tell me I didn't love you enough to let go, because I did."

  Josiah wheezed and coughed, his outburst straining against his bruised and damaged vocal chords. Cyler grabbed my hand and walked me outside. Away from Blan. Away from Josiah. Away from the pain of everything that was and could have been.

  Chapter Seven

  Cyler recognized my need for silence as we walked back to Cavil's manor, but he kept his hand tightly wrapped around mine. Once back in the kitchen, Cyler lightly lifted me up and placed me on the concrete countertop. He held my chin and lightly dabbed my neck with a wet washcloth. Josiah's blood covered my skin, my dress, my soul. When Cyler moved to wipe my cheek, I flinched. It was tender to the touch, and I winced when I realized it would bruise. I was thankful for Cyler, but now I couldn't help worry about all the consequences. Blan was Cavil's right-hand man. Cavil would punish me, or worse, Cyler.

  "I have half a mind to go back and murder that son of a bitch," Cyler mumbled. He wrung out the cloth, and the sight of bloody water dripping down the drain made me clutch my chest.

  “Cy, what if they punish you for defending me? This is bad, really bad.”

  “I’d like to see them try. I will always defend and protect what’s mine.”

  “Am I yours, Cyler?” I asked with a cheeky grin. Despite it all, I still liked pushing his buttons. I’m sure I looked ridiculous covered in blood and dirt, trying to flirt, but I needed something sweet to distract me from the turmoil.

  “Since the moment I caught you stealing my luggage,” he joked just as Huxley entered the room. At first, Hux wore a bored expression as he leaned against the wall, but once he saw me, his fiery gaze was sweeping and analyzing every inch of my appearance. My blood-stained dress. The bruise forming on my cheek.

  "What happened?" he growled out through clenched teeth. He gripped the countertop as if trying to hold himself back.

  "Blan backhanded—" Cyler began, but Hux cut him off.

  "He better be dead in a ditch." Hux began shaking with adrenaline. He took a step towards me, and Cyler backed away. Hux’s eyes shadowed as he continued to stare at me. I saw his gaze, but he didn’t see me, like he was stuck somewhere else entirely.

  "Hux, take two deep breaths. Ash is right here. She's safe." Cyler put his hands up in surrender as Hux stomped closer. It was as if this was a normal occurrence. Cyler seemed familiar with whatever was going on with Huxley.

  “I’m going to kill him!” Hux roared. His shoulders were tense as he tried to stalk away, but I reached out and grabbed his forearm before he could leave. Hux was a man of action. He threw punches first, asked questions later. But this was delicate. We couldn’t allow him to storm into battle, because then we’d ultimately lose this war.

  Huxley and I were face to face. His hand flew up and hovered just over my cheek, as his dark and demanding eyes looked me over. His hot breath brushed over the bridge of my nose as his expression hardened. Then his cold fingers touched my neck, as if to check my pulse. I flinched, startling him. I saw the murderous haze clear from his eyes for a brief moment of doubt before he slipped back into the fog.

  "Go with him,” Cyler whispered. “He's going to be like this for a little while. Seems like you’re good at keeping him from running off." Cyler then took another step back.

  "What’s wrong with him?" I asked as Hux took his thumb and smeared Josiah’s blood across my cheek.

  "He won't hurt you. I've only ever seen him like this a handful of times...."

  Cyler grinned and shook his head before tossing the wet washcloth in his hand on the counter, then crossed his arms over his chest.

  "Why are you smiling? Something isn’t right..."

  "Babe, he gets like this with people he loves."

  Cyler’s words were like a bomb going off in my chest. I slowly slid off the countertop and pressed myself against Huxley. "Okay," I murmured before grabbing Huxley’s hand. For a moment I pulled away and kissed Cyler on the cheek before guiding Hux outside towards the Walker quarters.

  Once in my small room with the door securely shut, I led Huxley to the bed to sit. He grumbled when I tried to pull my hand from his. "I just need to get out of these clothes. It's got Josiah's blood all over it."

  His eyes went dark again, and he appraised my dress, almost as if he just remembered the state I was in. He started to stand, and I saw how his mood changed. Once again, he was just moments away from running off to murder Blan. In a desperate attempt at calming his demons, I began ripping my dress off. He needed to see that I was okay, so for him, I'd let go of my insecurities and bare all if it meant I could bring him down from this self-destructive ledge.

  Huxley rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the fabric shimmy to the floor. I stepped out of my dress then flung it away with a small kick. Huxley clenched his fist and looked down, his posture still rigid. I wanted to wipe away the tension. Take away whatever terrors Huxley experienced to make him this way. I bent over while resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself to cover my stomach and chest. I grabbed Huxley's hands and pulled them towards me, forcing him to touch the soft skin on my hips.

  "Feel me, Hux. I'm okay." He unclenched his fingers and tentatively touched me. While grazing over my lower stomach, he let out small incomprehensible mumbles. I wanted to squirm beneath his movements but remained still. He stood, his eyes clear as his fingers roamed my shoulders and my defined collarbone. With eyes still intently focused on my body, he slowly trailed his hands down the sides of my breasts. My nipples pebbled beneath my thin black bra.

  "Do you believe me now? I'm okay. I'm safe. Don’t leave me. Stay, Hux."

  He finally met my eyes, and what I saw in his juniper gaze was pure, unadulterated heat, burning me up, making me feel like I still had too many layers on. I wanted to lean closer. I wanted to guide his hands between my thighs.

  "You need to get cleaned up," he finally said in a hoarse voice. His words felt clinical. Robotic, almost. His eyes looked around the room as he slipped into his usual unaffected demeanor. Disappointment flooded me. Was I imagining things?

  "Where's your washroom?"

  "The community showers are across the hall," I replied while pushing back my disappointment. Huxley nodded before walking out the door and into the hallway.
I suddenly felt very naked in his absence, so I wrapped my arms around my waist while scrounging the room for a towel.

  "Come on, all the other Walkers are at work still," his voice called out. Not wanting to be undressed in his presence anymore, I found a towel on the floor and wrapped it around me before walking outside.

  "Well, thanks for checking on me. I'll see you later," I said in a calm voice even though I wanted to crumble. I forced myself to smile and prayed that he wouldn't see how pathetic I felt. He was obviously struggling, and my first instinct was to turn this into something it wasn't. Hux bit his bottom lip and smiled before waltzing into the bathroom. "Get your pretty ass in here, Walker."

  I stood outside the bathroom for a moment, shock and disbelief coursing through me. "I won't ask again," he growled through the door.

  I shook free the doubt before walking inside. The washroom was nothing special. Three shower heads were mounted to the wall, creating an open space that lacked privacy. Huxley turned on the center one and steam quickly filled the small space. The stark white tile on the walls made Huxley's dark and tall frame stand out, and in one swift movement, he removed his shirt.

  "Drop the towel," he ordered.

  "Wh-what are you doing?"

  Instead of answering, Huxley stormed up to me and gripped the edge of my towel before ripping it away from my body. I shivered once the mist of the shower hit me.

  "You little tease.” Huxley trailed his eyes down my exposed skin. “You wanted my attention—you got it."

  I watched hungrily as he unbuttoned his pants and forced them over his muscular thighs. Once free from his clothes, I saw the proof of his attraction. It stood hard and proud beneath the thin material of his underwear. My eyes took in his form. Every dip, every muscle. I took in the gruesome scar on his leg and the burn mark on his forearm.

  He thrust his fingers under the thin straps of my bra and plucked them from my shoulders, forcing the material down my arms. "I want to see all of you, Ash."

  "Is this another one of your games, Huxley? Something for you to laugh about later?" I asked while reminiscing about our kiss in Dormas. Although it was just a ploy to get me to calm down, it was his cool indifference afterwards that I still hadn't quite come to terms with.

  "What if it is?"

  "Then you can leave," I replied with a shrug. Huxley's eyebrows shot up as if he wasn't expecting that response from me. His lip quirked up as if amused, and I saw his eyes brighten. Hux would never admit it, but I think he liked seeing me defiant. "I'd like you to stay—and not to distract me, either. If you thought you could whisk me off and pray I'd forget about what just happened, you're wrong."

  Huxley looked up at the ceiling then crossed his arms over his chest. I didn’t care if he was mad. If we were doing this, I needed it to be real.

  "Maybe it’s me that needs the distraction," he offered.

  "You don't seem to be the type to need much of anything." I rolled my eyes.

  "Well, that's where you're wrong." Huxley leaned in close and tenderly kissed my forehead before cupping my ass and lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his hips and stared deeply into his eyes as he guided me towards the showers. With incredible strength and control, he pushed me against the cool tile wall as the hot water beat down on his back.

  "I’ll only say this once. I need you, Ash." Huxley’s lips found mine as droplets of water fell down our cheeks. With one hand, he secured me against the tiled wall, and with the other, he trailed his fingers down my stomach. "I need to keep you safe," he said softly. "I need to know that you're okay because I can't fucking focus if you're not."

  Huxley slowly lowered me to the ground. Josiah’s blood was already washed away and disappeared down the drain. He placed his index finger under my chin and gently lifted my head so that I was looking up at him. “So let me kiss you here. Let me forget for a little while.”

  I stepped under the spray of the water and let it wash over me. I took a moment to soak in the newness of it all, and when I submerged from the falling water, I felt worthy of the heated look Huxley gave me. It was then that I realized that I’d happily spend a lifetime distracting him from whatever caused him pain. There was love and power in our mutual needs. I picked up a bar of soap resting on a nearby shelf and lathered it in my hand. The smell of fresh rain filled the space.

  With one last inhale I closed the space between us. “Help me clean up?” I asked in a soft voice. Hux exhaled in relief as he took the soap from my hands and began working the suds in his palm. A moment later, he brushed his hands over my breasts, spreading the bubbles over my soft skin. He pulled me close for a hug then massaged my back. I moaned as he worked the tension and knots free. Then when it was time to wash my hair, he grabbed a handful of it and pulled it back as he scrubbed my scalp, exposing my neck. Water hit our sides as he licked droplets off of me.

  I took the soap from him and lathered my hands up while he was bent over, distractedly washing my thighs. His large hands teasingly stroked my inner leg up and down. My legs shook with want, and when he stood back up with a satisfied smirk, I dove in and claimed his bottom lip with my teeth before dipping my hand and grasping his hard shaft. Huxley groaned when I touched him, the sound raw and loud. Huxley threw his head back, tearing his lips from mine before saying, “This is a damn good distraction.”

  At first, I was unsure what to do. I wanted to take him to a place where it felt so good there was no room for pain and sadness, but this was all so new. Sensing my hesitation, Huxley covered my hand with his own and showed me the rhythm he liked. I followed his instructions and adjusted my pressure, making his mouth drop open in pleasure. He twitched and moaned out my name as I increased speed. I felt powerful. I felt in control. I felt Huxley’s pure, intense need for me.

  He let go, letting me take over before placing both palms on either side of me against the white tiled wall. I increased my tempo as he struggled to keep still.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned out, and I bit back a smile of triumph. There was something freeing in that moment. He gave himself to me so easily. He might not be able to admit that he loved me, but I could feel it in his vulnerability. My stoic and angry Hux gifted me with moans as he came in my hand, and I knew that, in relinquishing control and letting me see this side of him, he was letting me know how much he now trusted me.

  He relaxed and pressed his forehead against mine as he smiled. “Oh the things I’m going to do to you,” he growled while gripping my hips and pressing forward just as a door slammed outside the washroom. I stiffened and Huxley instantly went into protective mode.

  Within moments, we were rinsed off, dried, and walking back to my bedroom. He made me wear his oversized grey shirt, the hem of it brushing across my knees as we plopped down on the bed with mischievous smiles. All tension had fled Huxley’s body.

  “Now, let’s try this again,” he said with a sly grin while moving his hand between my knees and sinking further and further until his thumb was tracing circles on my sensitive skin, making me purr. Loud knocks on the door made him freeze and curse.

  “What the fuck now?” He stood and stomped over to the door, opening it slightly.

  I heard Patrick’s hurried voice.

  “Hux, Cyler said you were having an episode. I got here as fast as I…” his voice trailed off as his eyes widened at Huxley’s naked torso. His hand pressed against the door, pushing it open, and there was pain in his eyes when he saw my exposed leg from where Huxley’s shirt had ridden up. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Looks like you don’t need me after all.” His face fell as he turned to walk away, and I shot up from my bed, strolled over to the doorway and yanked his wrist before he could get away.

  For a moment, the three of us just stood there staring at one another, wondering what to do next. The dynamic between Patrick and Huxley was simply too complex, and I didn’t know exactly how to proceed. I knew diving into a relationship with multiple men would be hard, but the tension seemed more tangible now. There simply wasn�
��t enough time to figure it all out. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

  “I’m okay now,” Huxley said with a frown. “Tell her. I need you to tell her, Patrick. We both know I can’t, and she needs to know why I get like that.” He didn’t give Patrick the opportunity to refuse whatever request he made. He simply dipped low, then kissed me tenderly before walking past Patrick and down the hallway, away from us.

  Patrick looked down at the floor and sighed before moving inside, pulling me with him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Not really. Why couldn’t we have figured all of this out before coming here? It’s scary and exhausting trying to simultaneously hide my feelings for you all while soaking up as much time as I can.”

  Patrick nodded in agreement. “I overheard a couple Walkers this morning saying a woman who received the vaccine three years ago died from the rejection this morning.”

  I ran my hands through my wet hair in frustration and plopped down on the bed. What if Maverick can’t find the cure? Would I have to watch everyone I know and love die?

  “Am I a selfish bastard for saying I’m not sad we came here? I mean, yes, Cavil’s a sadistic dictator, but being here, getting captured—it made us all stop dancing around this thing between us.”

  I nodded in agreement. My new and brave approach wouldn’t have happened if not for the fear of losing them all. I would have happily tip-toed the line until one of them made the first move.

  “Can I hold you, Ash? This story is hard.”

  I nodded as he sat down. Once he was comfortable, I crawled into his lap and rested my cheek against his chest as he stroked my hair.

  “I told you how our parents died, but not the whole story. We were home when the Eastern Scavengers attacked. Dad was working at the train station. Mom was making dinner. I can still smell her cooking,” Patrick said with a sad chuckle. “When the alarms sounded, we thought it was another Walker. Then we smelled smoke. They set one of our buildings on fire. A family died inside. Two little girls we went to school with, gone forever. Mom locked us in the closet and stood waiting at the door, knife in hand. She didn't even hesitate. Mom was prepared to die to save us.”