by Tera Shanley
The cabin was just as small as the outside suggested. It was made up of one room—a living area and kitchen combined. Couches embroidered with a moose and bear pattern dotted the space, and a leather recliner sat in the corner. Next to the small kitchen, a hand-carved oak dining table waited for dinner to be served, and a deer-antler chandelier hung from the ceiling like some giant spider. Stone edged a wood-burning fireplace where a blaze had been started already.
“Where are you hurt?”
“The answer to that would be everywhere, Finneas.”
He gave her an exhausted look. “Stitches?”
She assumed the gauze she’d hastily secured over her knife injury wasn’t going to win her any first-aider of the year awards. “On my back.”
He lifted the tail of her shirt and undid her shoddy binding, then whistled. “Damn, you have a flap of skin just hanging there. Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?”
“Didn’t seem that important at the time.” Flashes of the last minutes of Jerry’s life danced before her eyes, and she swallowed the bile that filled her throat. Her continued existence depended upon her ability to forget this entire awful day as soon as humanly possible.
“Lay up on the table and pull your shirt up.”
He set a needle and sutures beside her, along with a bottle of alcohol and a roll of bandages. The door creaked open, and Sean shut it tenderly behind him like he hadn’t just given Brandon the verbal lashing of the dork’s life. Finn poured alcohol over Sean’s hands once, and then again before he doused the slice in her back with it. She bucked at the unexpected pain and buried her head into her folded arms. Thank God they couldn’t see her face. She could only take so much torture in one day, and she was teetering at capacity.
Her shirt crept up higher, and Sean’s careful voice asked, “What’s this?”
She hadn’t actually seen it, but she could imagine what he was asking about. He traced the ache with a light fingertip. Over her ribcage, against the tender flesh of her back, were likely eight perfect finger-shaped bruises with the thumbs against her front.
“Jerry wasn’t a gentle monster,” she said, biting back the panic of memory.
“Did he—”
“No. It didn’t get that far.”
Sean, wise man that he was, dropped the subject right there like a flaming coal. And a good thing it was, because she’d rather lick the toilet seat in a men’s bathroom than answer any more questions about her time with Jerry.
The stitching wasn’t so bad if she concentrated on Sean and Finn’s murmured conversation above her. Where they would try to find medical supplies tomorrow. Food rations for the entirety of the trip. How long they guessed the run would last before they’d used up all their stores around the Denver area. Sean’s hands stayed steady and warm against her skin as he worked, like he’d stitched up a hundred teammates before her. Maybe he had. Or maybe he was just that confident with everything he did.
“All done,” he said with a tiny pat to her unmarred flesh. “Now hop up so we can change the bandages on your arm, and we’ll go grab something to eat.”
Her stomach threw a little party at those glorious words and let out a rumble of anticipation. She hadn’t eaten since that morning.
The stitches pulled tightly against her skin, and she sat up tenderly before removing the bandages from her arm. “If you people would just stop stabbing me, that would be fantastic.”
Finn snorted and pressed against the side of the long cut like he was searching for infection. “Maybe if you weren’t so mouthy.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so irritating.”
“Maybe if you didn’t bring that out in people.”
“Okay,” Sean said, halting the argument. “Enough. Vanessa, do you want something for the pain?”
“What kind of something?” she asked.
“All herbal. Dr. Mackey sent us with a tea that will dull the edges.”
“Or,” Finn said with a toothy grin, “we can give you some of the rotgut whiskey Ricky sent with us.”
Her stomach churned. “I’ll go with the tea. Any more rotgut this week, and I’ll likely go blind.”
Sean looked at her with frank curiosity, but she shrugged out from under his stare and headed for the door. “Thanks for the stitches—no thanks for causing them,” she called over her shoulder.
Jackson had somehow found the time to track down four family-sized cans of beef stew in a hidden cupboard of a pharmacy break room on the way in, and only one of them was rancid. When she approached the fire with her metal plate and spoon, Jackson heaped an extra spoonful on hers and said she’d earned it. She waited a moment longer to see if he would say he was just joking, but when he just stared at her with that serious expression of his, she nodded her thanks. That might’ve been the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Or at least it was the most meaningful compliment. She was part of the team, and it was clear as day Jackson was just fine with it. Huh.
Sean didn’t sit by her, or even near her. In fact, everyone seemed to be giving her space. Instead, he sat directly across the fire, which did nothing but illuminate his striking features in the firelight. With a conscious effort, she tried her best to keep her eyes on her plate or anywhere other than him, but time and time again, her gaze was drawn to him like she had no control over her own thoughts or actions anymore.
Maybe it would’ve been easier to ignore him if she didn’t keep catching his eyes on her too. Even the conversation around them didn’t seem to hold his attention.
Stupid traitorous heart. She could see what it was doing from a mile away. Latching onto yet another risky man. Well, not this time. She’d learned her lesson with Mitchell and she sure as sugar wasn’t going to make such a colossal mistake again.
“I’m going to bed,” she said a little too loudly, effectively breaking the spell of Sean’s gaze.
She rinsed her dishes off and put them back into her pack before heading inside. No one followed, so she had plenty of time to gently wash her cut up face again and brush her teeth over the sink. With an explosive sigh, she sank into the recliner and curled in on herself. What a day. She could only wish tomorrow would be easier.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Vanessa opened her eyes and struggled to adjust to the faint moonlight that penetrated the window. All around her, the deep sleep noises of men filled the room, and she turned her head and searched for the noise that woke her up.
Scratch, scratch.
Heart pounding, she turned to sit up and almost ran head to chest into Sean Daniels. As she opened her mouth to squelch a startled sound, he placed his hand over her lips. Holy crow, he didn’t sleep with a shirt on, and the smooth, taut musculature just under his skin’s surface beckoned for her touch.
Shhh, he mouthed, before twitching his head toward the window.
A shadow stumbled across the moonlight, and the scratching started again. Okay, the Dead hunting them was creepy, but it was really hard to feel scared with Sean leaning over her like this. There was nowhere for her to go except further into the cushion of the chair as he leaned forward.
Panicked, she pushed her hand against the front seam of his pants.
“What’re you doing?” he whispered.
“I’m cock-blocking you.”
He banished a smile behind pursed lips, and as soft as a breath, said, “Cock-blocking isn’t a literal term, and I’m not here to molest you. Though if you’d like to keep your hand right where it is, I wouldn’t mind. It feels nice.”
She jerked away and narrowed her eyes.
He leaned into her ear until his lips were so close they tickled the fine hairs on her lobe. “There’s a Dead outside. Just one. A fence must be down, and she was attracted to all of the noise we made earlier.”
“What do we do?”
“You go back to sleep. I’ll take care of her.”
Ha! Not likely.
He pushed off her and headed for the fireplace where he pulled out a poker f
rom the hearth set. Without a spare glance for her, and with not a worry in the set of his chiseled jaw, he opened the front door and was back within five tension-filled minutes. Closing the door behind him, he replaced the poker and lay back down beside Finn like he’d simply taken a midnight bathroom break. She looked from the door, to him, and back to the door. Alrighty then. She needed to learn how to turn her fear off like Sean did, and she needed that little talent now.
The sight of Sean’s shirtless chest and taut stomach played across her mind until her stomach clenched. She’d known he was fit from the way his simple, dark-colored shirts fit him, but damn, she hadn’t expected him to look like that. Every abdominal muscle begged to be caressed by her fingertips, and the light trail of shadow that led from his belly button to the seam of his pants was just about the sexiest temptation she’d ever seen on a man. Even the muscles over his hips had been defined in the dim moonlight, and the triceps of his arms had tensed and flexed as he leaned over her.
She was many things in that moment, but most obviously, she was in trouble.
Chapter Ten
SEAN WOULDN’T HAVE BOTHERED explaining the Dead to Vanessa the night before, but she was awake, and he didn’t want her to panic and wake the others. And then she’d put her hand right on his crotch, and he’d just about lost it. The temptation to press himself against the soft palm of her outstretched hand was a slow, inescapable burn. How could a woman be so amusing, and surprising, and sexy in the same instant?
“You all right?” Finn asked, as he pushed the tree off the downed length of fence.
“Yeah, why?”
“You just got this weird look about you. And you haven’t ordered anyone around the whole morning. We don’t really know what to make of it.”
“Just thinking is all, man.”
“About her?”
“Who?”
Finn leaned on the shovel he had plucked from up against the fence. “You know who. Laney.”
Sean frowned and shook his head. “I actually hadn’t thought about her this entire trip until you brought her up. So thanks for that.”
“Oh,” Finn said. “My bad.”
He dug at a new post hole as Sean dragged up the fencing materials they’d found in a shed behind the cabin. The storms must’ve knocked over the dead tree and the lightning burn down the middle of the trunk likely hadn’t helped it stay upright. If they were going to continue to use the sanctuary, they had to make sure they weren’t driving into a Dead prison every time they came through the front gates. Fence repairs were a straight line to peace of mind.
“Then are you thinking about Vanessa?” Finn asked, wiping the thin sheen of accumulated sweat from his brow.
“What does it matter what I’m thinking? It’s not therapy hour, Finn. Just help me fix the damned fence.”
“That’s a yes.”
“I don’t need your advice on the matter. I know where this is going, and why do you care so much?”
Finn jabbed the shovel into the earth. “I just don’t want you and Adrianna getting hurt is all.”
“Wait, do you like Vanessa?” Sean asked, standing up from the fencing he was untying. “Is that why you get so pissed when I look at her?”
“No! She grates on my last nerve. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s level-eleven hot and she’d be a cat in the sack, but—”
“Enough. Don’t talk about her like that. That’s an order.”
“I knew it. You’re falling for Vanessa-the-man-eater-Summers.”
Sean jabbed his finger at Finn. “Shut up.”
Finn’s dark eyebrows arched. “Or what?”
“Or heaven help me, I’m going to lay you out. She’s been through hell and back, and your disrespect of her stops right here and now.”
Finn leaned against the shovel again. “I have all the respect in the world for Vanessa. Have for a long time. I just wanted to see where you stood with her.” He stabbed the soil again. “Now I know.”
Sean’s fist itched to hit him across his smirking face. Being baited about a woman was infuriating. He didn’t know what he was doing and the timing couldn’t be worse for him to start seeing Vanessa as anything but a teammate. His churning feelings for her put everyone at risk. It would be his responsibility to make the difficult calls in the days to come, and her presence was clouding that ability. He squatted down and looped his hands behind his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yes you do,” Finn said quietly. “You aren’t built to be alone forever. Eventually you were going to move on from Aria. Your heart just landed on Laney first, and now it’s rebounded from that hurt and landed on Vanessa. You need a partner—your timing is just terrible.”
He licked his lips and said, “I know.”
“So turn it off. I’ve seen you do it a hundred times. Turn that emotion off until you get us back home, and then see where it goes. We all need you to be at your best, but if you’re offering protection to one of us over the others, the entire system fails. Your feelings for her will cloud your judgment. It puts us all at risk. Just turn it off.”
Finn made it sound like such a simple thing. Sure he’d turned off his fear. He had to be clear-headed to make those hard, in-the-moment decisions for his team. Fear was different from affection though. Turning off his feelings for her would strip his humanity, little by little. His heart would be trained to reject companionship, and after the last four years alone, he didn’t want to go back to how he was before. He liked the man he was becoming. But, his team came first. They always had. It’s why he had such a high success rate on supply runs. It’s why he’d been a respected leader of one of the biggest colonies in the known world for three years before it fell to traitors. If he changed his approach now, people would die. Not just people—friends.
Finn was right. He had to turn it off.
Sean and Finn were gone when she woke up, and the rest of the team sat around white smoke and embers, devouring biscuits and gravy one of them had cooked up in an iron skillet over the fire pit. She took her turn at the food just as Sean came ambling through the woods. His thoughtful eyes were downcast, and when his gaze collided with hers, he looked away so fast it was as if her presence there had burned him.
“We need to be back on the road in ten minutes,” he said. “Start loading up.”
Sean drove, and she sat behind him, wondering what had changed in the night. He hadn’t said a word to her. Not only that, but he was doing a bang-up job of not even gracing her with a glance. Like she didn’t exist at all.
A-hole.
She could play that game too. She checked her weapons and put two extra blades in her belt for the day, and when she was thoroughly confident she was ready to take on whatever was coming their way, she leaned her head back and enjoyed the scenic beauty that unfolded just outside the window. No matter that Sean’s presence seemed to take up every cubic inch of space in the Terminator, she was over it. So over it. If ever two words described Vanessa Summers, they were ‘over’ and ‘it.’ She caught his quick glance in the rearview mirror and crossed her arms over her tripping heartbeat.
Aw, crap.
“Candy bars,” Vanessa said, checking her scope again.
“And?” Steven asked.
“And what?”
“You aren’t playing the game right! You have to name what you miss and then what you would give up to have that thing again now.”
“And I’d give up a fingernail.”
“Eh, just rip it off?”
“Yeah, but it has to be the middle finger so I have an excuse to show people my injury and offend them all at once.”
Jackson spit over the side of the roof as they moved across the flat gravel grocery store ceiling. “I pick poon.”
“Oh, gross on the word choice,” she complained as Steven groaned. “And you said I was playing the game wrong. Look, Jackson, even after the outbreak, you can still get sex, so you wouldn’t really have to give up anything big for it.”
&n
bsp; “I’d give up my left foot.”
“Jackson! Aww, forget it. There.” She nodded with her chin at a trio of Deads around the back of the building.
Steven brought the radio to his lips and murmured, “Three Deads on the south side of the building. Nowhere close to an entrance though. They don’t seem alerted.”
“Copy,” came Sean’s quiet voice through the static.
“Toilet paper,” Jackson said as Vanessa lowered herself to the roof’s edge and watched the Deads through her scope.
“That’s better. What would you give up?”
“The poison ivy blisters on my ass.”
“Jackson! Seriously, you aren’t allowed to play this game anymore,” she muttered.
Steven’s face looked like he’d just sucked a lemon. “Now I won’t even be hungry for the crappy lunch I’ve been looking forward to.”
“You and me both.”
“What’s Sean’s beef with you?” he asked after a few moments of kicking pebbles with the toe of his boot.
It had been nearly a week, and Sean had barely said two words to her. He was doing a great job of talking at her, just not to her. With everyone else though, he was sweet as blackberry pie. “Heck if I know. I tried to figure out what his deal was the first couple of days, but maybe he just doesn’t appreciate my sense of humor or something. What do you want to bet I can hit the one on the right from here?”
“No bet. Sean would explode if we started picking them off and making all that racket without an order.”
Getting any kind of reaction from Sean tempted her to put her finger on the trigger, but she couldn’t do it. If anything happened to the three men inside because of a stupid mistake on her part, she wouldn’t be able to live with it. She pulled her eye back from the crosshairs.
“Your sense of humor is definitely an acquired taste,” he said through a slight frown. “Still, it doesn’t make sense that he ignores you so obviously. Not as a new recruit.”
