Fight of the Walker (The Walker Series Book 3)

by Coralee June

"Maverick? Do you love me?"

  "Of course I love you. I just want—"

  "Stop. Yes or no. That's all I need from you," I interrupted. It felt like sparks of fire were passing between us. Mav needed to understand that, although I appreciated his concern, I wasn't the same girl from Galla as before. I knew what I wanted, and I was no longer afraid to say it. There was too much uncertainty in the world to have an unsteady confidence, too.

  "Yes," he replied softly.

  "Guess that leaves you, Hux. You and I both know you've loved me for a while now," I teased while walking closer to him. Hux was the hardest to crack, but I was determined.

  There was a dip in his voice when he replied. "I guess it depends."

  "On what?" I asked as we stood toe to toe. I looked up into his heavy juniper stare and gasped when I saw the passion there.

  "I want to kiss you whenever and however I want. I don't want to hold back. I don't want any jealousy whatsoever. If they can't handle it—I'm out."

  I turned to address the group, preparing to ask if they could deal, but Huxley grabbed my chin and tilted it towards him instead. "If they can't deal, I'm out," he whispered again. I knew the root of his insecurities had less to do with me, and more to do with his fear of losing his family. He still felt so tormented by what happened with Jacob that he couldn't risk them drifting apart because of me, despite the love I just knew was between us.

  It was a gamble. I knew that Maverick and Jacob were comfortable with one another, but I wasn't sure about the others. Dormas might be used to sharing women, but these leaders were full of complex pasts and emotions. I just prayed they could accept Huxley's terms, because I wasn't sure he would agree otherwise.

  "Okay, Hux," I said in a whisper.

  Huxley then bent down and kissed me like a starving man. I felt like his oxygen. His tongue swirled around my mouth, and I tasted the whiskey on his breath, its spicy taste filled me as he dipped further.

  I let out a moan and felt his hand glide down my butt, where he dug into my flesh, forcing the short material of my dress to lift up around my waist, giving whoever was behind me a full view of my nakedness underneath.

  I think I heard a gasp, but the sound was driven away by the groans and raspy breathing between Huxley and me. He pulled me closer, and I ached everywhere. His kisses and grip so hot, I melted. I opened my eyes for a brief moment just to watch him lose control. It was glorious and powerful.

  However, despite the chaos I felt during the fall of his resistance, he still moved my body with intention. Claiming my arousal as his and his alone, despite our audience.

  Huxley spun me around, forcing me to face the others.

  "I'm focusing all on you, little Walker,” he said behind me now while lifting my hair up and breathing on my neck. “You're going to be the one to tell me if they can handle it," he said through gritted teeth. I felt my clothing shift, and his hot hand pushed my legs apart and claimed me. He then sucked my neck, teasing me with little bites and making me moan out in pain as his thumb slid up and down.

  "Look at them, Ash. Tell me what you see." My vision was hazy from lust, but I looked to each of the men before me, honoring Huxley's request all while he teased.

  Cyler looked like he wanted to join us. I remembered how his skilled tongue lapped me up the night before, and my legs quivered. He smiled and rolled up the sleeves to his shirt, his beautiful forearms flexed, desperate to join us but knowing he couldn't.

  Jacob looked happy and definitely aroused. I know his family's happiness was ultimately his only driving force, and seeing Huxley with me seemed to please him. He licked his lips.

  Kemper blushed. I threw a daring look in his direction and he met my stare head-on. He was out of his comfort zone, but willing to explore.

  Huxley dipped his finger inside me ever so slowly, and I gasped, leaning forward. My legs couldn't stand.

  "Fuck," he groaned while holding his hand against my stomach, anchoring me to his chest before exploring once more. I wondered if he could feel that I wasn't experienced.

  I knew that I would see nothing but the fire in Maverick's expression when I looked at him. And as Huxley's fingers teased me more, Maverick caressed his greedy eyes on my squirming body. He liked to share.

  For a moment, I felt confident that this would work, that our makeshift family would survive this, but that momentary bliss escaped me when I saw Patrick's uncertain eyes. I felt Huxley's teeth graze my collarbone, dragging seductively against my skin, but I couldn't enjoy the sensation because Patrick didn’t seem confident in the scene before him.

  "Hux," I whispered. And for the briefest of moments, he lingered. I knew he was wanting to savor this last moment between us. Because after seeing Patrick's insecurities, I knew we still had feelings to navigate. This would work. I didn’t see pain in his gaze, but if I wanted to honor Huxley's request, I had to be honest.

  When he pulled away, Patrick immediately looked at the floor. "I-I thought I could handle it..." he began with a stutter. "Maybe if I have some more time. I just wasn't expecting this. This was just..."

  "It's okay," I reassured though my eyes were glassy. No one said anything as I adjusted my dress. I knew that some part of me should feel shame, but I was too numb to access the emotion. Some small part of me wondered if Huxley knew his brother wouldn't be able to handle this. If this was some twisted sabotage so that he could bring me down with him.

  "I love you guys, and I want this to work. I can wait until we’re all comfortable." I pushed Huxley's hand from my stomach, and he flinched, realizing it was still resting there.

  “Ash, love, I am comfortable. I’m not bothered by seeing you together. It’s just…” Patrick drifted off while looking around the room.

  “I...I’m not as…” Patrick cursed before walking closer to me. Huxley didn’t move. I knew he needed to hear his twin’s reasoning for feeling insecure.

  “I’m not as experienced as the rest of them. I’m not bothered by seeing you with my brother, but I’m nervous that I’ll…” he turned to look around at the others before lowering his voice. “I’m nervous that I’ll never make you, uh...feel...that good.”

  I felt Huxley exhale in relief. I smiled before leaning forward and kissing Patrick on the mouth. Huxley grabbed my hips, pushing me forward into Patrick, who stilled in surprise.

  I removed my lips from his before speaking. “I can assure you…” I said to Patrick in a hoarse voice while Huxley dug his fingers into my hips, “That you have nothing to worry about.”

  I grabbed the back of his neck as Huxley crushed me tighter between them. “And I can’t wait to explore all of that with you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  After reassuring Huxley and Patrick more with sweet kisses, I announced that I was still going to see Josiah. Although Huxley started to sulk, he wasn’t as outwardly frustrated as before. I quickly got ready and left, eager for the opportunity to leave the lab, and Kemper followed after me.

  Kemper was the sort of person that saw a problem and jumped into the solution, so I was thankful when he didn’t start trying to fix things. We just walked down the brick roads of Ethros as the sunshine beat down on us. Before leaving, I changed into another one of the dresses Kemp picked out for me. It fell off my shoulders, and the lace material hit my thigh. I caught him glancing over at me a couple times during our walk, while biting his lip, and I made sure to teasingly brush against him.

  Once at the prison, I stayed outside while Kemper checked to see who the guard was. When he disappeared into the building to scout out the place, a familiar voice called out to me.

  "Hey, Walker," Jules said with a grin while stepping closer. Her hair was a tangled mess and sand coated her legs and sandals.

  "Where do you keep running off to?" I asked while observing her pink face. She'd been spending a lot of time away from the lab lately, against Cyler's wishes, and her sunkissed tan made her glow.

  "I've been at the beach. Keeping an eye out for incoming tran
sports. Beats being stuck in that lab with you lot. I could suffocate on the sexual tension—it’s disgusting, really," she said with a grimace.

  "But now that I see you're here,” she continued, “I can go there for a bit and rest. I'm going to try and come back tonight. I've noticed random transports coming and going." Jules looked around us, then back at me before whispering, "I think I might be able to steal one."

  My eyebrows shot up and I fought a smile. Cyler might have wanted to keep her away from the troubles of the empire, but she was just like him. Resourceful and fearless. It made me wonder what their parents were like. Did they inherit these qualities from them? Or was it just their instinctual reaction to stress?

  Kemper emerged from the prison with a guard I didn't recognize following close behind.

  "Thirty minutes," the guard grunted before promptly walking towards the treeline. With a shake of his leg, he began urinating on a tree nearby, and I averted my gaze while wrinkling my nose.

  "Disgusting," Jules remarked loudly, which made him look over his shoulder at us with a scowl. "On that note, I'm off. Actually, Kemper, would you mind coming with me tonight? There is something I think you should see."

  "I've got to work on the fetters—

  "It's about the fetters. I have an idea," Jules interrupted with a determined smile.

  "Fine, but I don't want to be gone long, and this better not be a trick."

  "I'm wearing one too, you know. I don't want this shit any more than the rest of you. See you at midnight," she cooed while walking away.

  "She seems different," I observed to no one in particular.

  "She's something," Kemper replied.

  It wasn’t until we were inside the prison, that I allowed myself to process why we were here. Josiah seemed to be in better shape. It was as if someone put him in a healing pod to mend his bones. The cuts and scrapes were healed, but blue-black bruises still covered his face.

  His voice was gravelly when he spoke. "Ash, you came back," he said in disbelief. Although he tried to sound enthusiastic, it was still a low and pitiful tone. I looked towards Kemper who took a seat on a nearby wooden chair.

  "Cavil's coming back, Jo," I whispered. When we were children, Josiah and I would sit on the floor in my closet bedroom. We would lean against the wall, our arms touching casually as we talked about our days, our dreams, our hopes.

  I wondered if he remembered those little moments as I sat beside him now. Once again, our arms brushed as I leaned against the concrete wall of the prison but there wasn't the buzz of electricity zapping between us like there once was; even so, I hoped to offer him some comfort as I announced the dim news.

  "Dominique, his Walker, said he's planning an execution," I whispered into the dark while looking over at Kemper. I'd need his quiet strength to survive this meeting.

  Josiah laughed. The sound was low, dark, and full of self-loathing. "Well, I guess this was to be expected. I gave him the wrong information. I knew he’d come back, but at least I bought you some time. Did you figure out an escape? Have you heard from my mother?" he asked hopefully, and my stomach sank when I realized that we still were no closer to finding a way off this island. In the end, although admirable, Josiah's death was for nothing.

  "No," I replied. "But we still have time," I quickly added. Once again, I looked at Kemper who slumped in defeat. I wished I could help him, and prayed that whatever Jules came up with would at least help.

  "So, what, are you here to tell me goodbye? Let me know how much you love me and will miss me?" he asked before coughing.

  "No," I replied again with a shrug. "I care for you. But I'm here for answers. I need closure. I want to leave here feeling like my best friend isn't actually a complete stranger." The sound of water dripping on concrete filled the room while Josiah mulled over my words. Finally, and with much effort, he replied.

  "I don’t think you’re going to like the answers I have to give you, Ash." I looked at Josiah and briefly mourned how toxic we were. I hated that, after all this time, I didn’t know the boy I once loved. Sometimes, I wondered if Josiah intentionally said things to hurt me, or if he simply didn't know any better.

  "I'm not trying to hurt you, Josiah. I came here because you are one of my oldest friends and…"

  "And what? There was a time that you loved me, Ash. You adored me. I know I'm a selfish ass, and I know I don't deserve you. But could you at least give the dying man some grace? Can you at least pretend like you love me back?"

  I desperately wanted to give Josiah what he wanted. It hurt to see him this way, but I was no longer the girl willing to sacrifice her truth for another man.

  "Josiah, I do love you. I just don't love you the way you want me to, not anymore. But I recently realized just how much you've protected me all these years." I never realized how awful the empire was until I was thrust outside the Stonewell doorstep. Although I fell in love and found luck in Dormas, the empire was still a cruel, cruel place.

  "You have no idea how true that is, Ash," Josiah choked out cryptically. "Do you remember how Lackley would visit while Father was away? Mother made you stay in your room, right? I think I was eleven when I found out they were fucking. Thirteen when I realized how similar Lackley and I look. Eighteen when I realized I would lose my claim as Governor of Galla if word got out that I was a bastard. Lackley has children scattered all over the empire, I’d be a nobody if word got out."

  I gasped while mentally cataloging Lackley’s and Josiah's features. Sharp nose. Strong jaw. Penetrating eyes. Then I considered Josiah's teetering personality. The way he sometimes could be sweet and then, other times, unrecognizable. He really was Lackley's son.

  “She loved him, I think. She had an arranged marriage. Lackley was powerful, and she was impressionable. It’s easy to make people fall in love with you when they’re lonely,” Josiah joked, and I bristled.

  Is that what he did with me? Preyed on my loneliness and made me fall in love?

  "And Lackley loved knowing I was a dirty secret, and if I wanted to survive, I had to play by his rules. Then he wanted me to kill my..." Josiah drifted off, as if unsure what to say, "...father."

  Master Stonewell Senior was stern. He had very high expectations for Josiah, which in turn put a lot of pressure on the young boy I knew. Linda Stonewell was sad, I couldn't quite pinpoint the source of her pain, but I had always sensed resentment between her and her husband. It all seemed to click now.

  "I found out about Lackley's involvement with X accidentally. I just so happened to walk into his office as he was beating a man to death for blackmailing him." Josiah's hands shook as he spoke, and I looked up to Kemper who was leaning forward and taking in every word Josiah said.

  "And you know what the worst part was? My mother was both the cause of that fucked up situation and the reason I kept staying. Men like Lackley encourage the vices of others so he can use their mistakes as leverage. Lackley knew my father would have killed her for committing adultery. So, he threatened Mother with publicizing their affair should we not cooperate. She could have lost everything. Her status. Her wealth. Maybe if it was just me, I would have left. But I couldn’t do that to her. It wasn't enough that Lackley knew I was a bastard—there was never any paternal love there. He made it his goal to manipulate me into his monster. At first, he just gave me small jobs. Serve threats. Silence people. Make documents disappear. But then? They gradually turned bigger, until finally, I was killing people. Not just Father, but anyone else that came between him and ruling the empire."

  I shot up from my seat and looked around. This was all so difficult to make sense of.

  "You were Lackley's assassin," I said, no hint of a question in my voice. I tried to remember if there were signs of his proclivities but came up short. Josiah seemed defeated and exhausted most days—not murderous.

  "I did what I had to."

  "How many?" I asked.

  "Too many."

  I walked over to the wall far from Josiah and sunk into
a heap of disbelief on the floor.

  "Of all of it, you know what I regret the most, Ash?" Josiah asked. "About a month before you went to live in Dormas, do you remember Lackley visiting?"

  I searched my memories and briefly recalled Lackley's visit. Josiah wore a grey suit I loved. Linda Stonewell was drunk by the main course of dinner.

  "I brought you chocolate that night. Usually I stayed away when he visited, but maybe I was feeling guilty—I killed a dignitary that morning. Somehow you always eased the guilt, Ash," he added softly. He let out a slow exhale and rubbed his chin, and I noticed for the first time that his ever-present glasses were gone. "Lackley saw me visiting your room, and I knew it. I saw it in his cruel stare. He was mentally cataloging you as another person he could use against me. Another person he could use to control me," he choked out.

  Tears like ice streamed down my cheeks as I listened. "And you know what? Even if you had chosen to stay, I would have made you go. I didn’t plan on Cyler wanting you, but I’m glad he did. You are the only good part of me, Ash. You were the only thing Lackley couldn't ruin."

  "So when you kidnapped me?" I asked.

  "I made sure Cyler could rescue you," Josiah answered. "I just hate that you became a pawn, regardless. I didn't account for how influential the Black family was or even..."

  I turned to look at Kemper who was now standing and turned away from us.

  "...I didn't account for how strong your pull is. I can't blame them for falling for you, Ash. If I had my way, you would have spent a lifetime alone, pining after me. And if that makes me an asshole, so be it. I'm selfish. Clinging to what I want is what got me into this mess in the first place. I wanted to keep my status as a Stonewell. I wanted to protect my mother’s reputation. And I wanted you. Seems like, regardless, I’ve lost all of it. The gossip is probably out by now."

  As Josiah's story unraveled at my feet, I realized something. If Josiah was Lackley's bastard son, then that meant he was no better than a Walker, really—at least, according to Galla standards. His mother may be of the Elite class, but children born out of legal partnerships were the grey area of our society. As a bastard, he wouldn’t be allowed to claim the privileges of a Stonewell, nor could he be recognized by Lackley. All this time I lived thinking he was better than me, when the truth of it was, we were more equal than I thought.