Book of the Damned: A-E5L1-01-00: (A reverse harem, post-pandemic, slow-burn romance) (The JAK2 Cycle, Book 2)

by V. E. S. Pullen

  Looking up at him with dull, deadened eyes, she said, “I want to see the body.”

  “That’s impossible,” he replied stiffly, not even looking at her.

  “I want to see the body.” She spoke slower, enunciating every word.

  “I said that’s impossible—”

  She tore the needle out of her arm and hit the collection tray — loaded only with refuse by this point — flinging it into the air and scattering the contents everywhere. “I WANT TO SEE THE BODY!” She shrieked at him in the tone and pitch only a teenage girl can achieve, throwing herself out of the chair. He protested, so she swept her arm along a counter top, destroying everything, then went for the desk. As he stepped closer, ordering me to help him secure her, she went running for the door… grabbing her backpack on the way out. “I FUCKING WANT TO SEE THE BODY!” She screamed, running out into the hallway and to the right, the direction I knew would lead to the stairwell down to the morgue.

  McNamara, finally visibly upset, was reaching for the desk phone lying on the ground next to the broken monitor — presumably to call security — when I put my hand on his arm, stopping him. “Let me,” I insisted, infusing my words with a little of the authority I had, and he hesitated. “I’ll take her to my place. People grieving… it might give us an advantage over the others.” The revulsion on his face… if any of it were true, I’d earned that look, but that fucker should check the fucking mirror once in awhile.

  “Fine. See that she eats something, preferably high in iron.” He sniffed again, what I already recognized was his tell. “Full pint tomorrow as well, make sure she’s ready.”

  I nodded, then raced from the room towards the stairwell, and my beautiful, crafty girl.

  The outside world wasn’t any more prepared for Azzie Vokaty than this place was. I couldn’t wait for her to meet my mom.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Azzie

  I settled into the passenger seat of Tai’s vehicle and fastened my seatbelt, my hands shaking a little. He carefully backed the Jeep out and pulled forward, but it wasn’t until we’d turned onto the main road that I could breathe.

  “Holy shit.” Tai gave out a shaky little laugh and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  “No metal detectors at the morgue entrance,” I said, as smugly as someone going through an adrenaline crash could be. “And security wasn’t about to stop and search a hysterical girl, especially me. They would’ve had to detain me, and might have hurt me in the process. Sometimes it pays to be fragile.”

  He snorted. “There is nothing fragile about you, Azzie,” he said, off-handed, and I felt a pang. “Where are we going?”

  “My house. Do you know where it is?” When he nodded, I asked for his phone and texted Spider.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you’re taking me to my house, that I’m losing my shit over Mouse and trashed the lab, and that he should bring Sasha, Sev, and Luka since we’re close. Since you shouldn’t know that Sasha is gone, that will look good.”

  “WHAT? Sasha’s gone?!”

  I sighed. “Sorry, I forget who knows what. No, he went early with the twinses since he’s the only one that has been to Mouse’s cabin and I couldn’t very well text Spider and tell him to legitimately bring Sasha, Sev, Luka, the Callises, and the Viper Twins to my house to comfort me.”

  “The Slopes? Why— what—?”

  “UGH! RIGHT. They know too much, they gotta come with us. You know, you and the triplets really need to debrief each other more frequently.” I was staring at a message that just came through from Spider in a different app, one that was a little concerning. “Do you have a secured text app?”

  He glared at me. “I’ll tell you once you start explaining what the fuck is going on.”

  “Never mind,” I rolled my eyes, tapping on the message to open the app.

  Spider: I’m worried about her. I’m not sure she’s going to be able to hold it together, and I think we should call Mom.

  Tai: What do you mean?

  Spider: This is a lot of shit for a girl her age to be dealing with, and trashing the lab is just a symptom. I know we talked about helping her with her PTSD ourselves, but I think we really need to consider that she needs more than we can give her.

  Tai: How will Mom help with that?

  Spider: Not with the trauma but she can get us all out if Azzie’s plan falls apart, something we need to be prepared for. I trust her and I believe in her, but this is a LOT OF SHIT for someone to be dealing with and if she lost it enough to trash the lab then we might have to step up.

  Tai: Trashing the lab was a ruse to get us out of the hospital.

  Spider: OH! You should have said that. You didn’t use the code.

  Tai: That’s because this isn’t Tai, he’s driving.

  Spider: FUCK

  Tai: Yeah…

  Spider: FUCK FUCK FUCK

  Tai: Yeah… so sounds like we have a LOT to talk about.

  Spider: Azzie, what I said, the stuff about PTSD, it’s all because we care, okay?

  Tai: k

  Spider: Azzie, please. Please let us explain.

  Tai: Pretty sure I’ve got the rough outline of it, Spider. But I’m going to give you a freebie here: I’m not mad about the armchair diagnosis, because I do, in fact, have PTSD and I’m well aware of it, but I wasn’t about to have one of THEIR doctors treat me. So you get a free pass on that one, and excellent job with your WebMD skills. No, the thing I’m mad about — and by mad, I mean molten-lava-rage-monster — is you having this discussion behind my back, and making decisions ABOUT me, FOR me. That’s going to be a bit of a sticking point, for a good long while. But at least it’s because you care, okay?

  Spider: Azzie

  Tai: Get Luka and Sev to my house. Bring both of your vehicles. Park on the street. Bring in anything you want to take out of here, and make sure your cellphones are on and with you. Understood?

  Spider: Yes

  Tai: Don’t fucking call your MOM. Shit is under control. If someone from the outside interferes, everything will go to shit, and I WILL LEAVE YOUR ASS BEHIND. Got it?

  Spider: Yes. Azzie, I’m sorry.

  Tai: About what, Spider? There’s only one right answer here.

  Spider: I’m sorry that even though I said I trust and believe in you, I obviously had my doubts. I’m sorry that I keep forgetting that your physical age is irrelevant, you have the experiences and savvy of an adult, and I need to stop thinking that you’re going to suddenly devolve into a scared kid just because that’s how I feel these days. I’m sorry that we talked about all this behind your back and didn’t consider that you were aware of your own issues, and respect you enough to talk with you instead of treating you like a ticking bomb. I care about you, deeply, and I’m terrified right now. You and I have had a couple conversations that I don’t think you’ve had with the others, and sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who really understands what we’re up against here, not just because of what you’ve said but how you’ve said it, and apparently I get to be scared enough for all of us. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and now I’m afraid I have, and I’m afraid you aren’t going to trust me or Tai anymore, and I’m sorry about that too because if you didn’t want anything to do with us, I know it would break his heart as much as mine.

  Tai: Apparently there wasn’t only one right answer. FUCKING A, Spider, can’t you even let me be self-righteously angry for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?

  Spider: Sorry?

  Tai: Shut up. I’ll deal with you later. There’s going to be silent treatment and I’ll require some groveling, and maybe presents but since we’re going to be on the run, you’ll have to be creative.

  Spider: Okay, I can do that.

  Tai: Now I’m going to torture your brother for a few minutes so he feels my wrath. Maybe… yes. Until you guys get there, he’s going to be put through hell.

  Spider: You are diabolical.

  Tai: I know I am. It’
s on you that you keep forgetting it.

  Spider: We’ll be there ASAP. I’d rather not prolong his punishment.

  Tai: Okay, as far as anyone is aware, you are coming to see me to comfort me. It wouldn’t be out of line to bring chocolate or something. Feel free to be awkward and confused about what to do for a teenage girl. But honestly? I would really fucking love a cheeseburger right now, I haven’t had solid food for weeks and the pizza last night was fucking AMAZING. And if everything I’ve heard is true, it’s going to be a long time until I can get a good burger out there, if ever, so if one should happen to fall into your lap on your way over, I would not look amiss at that.

  Spider: Noted.

  Tai: Like from the diner.

  Spider: Nope, I got it. I broke your code. You do realize it’s 8 am, right?

  Tai: Cheeseburgers know no artificial restraints of “time” or “gravity”

  Spider: Cheeseburgers don’t obey the laws of physics?

  Tai: Not the good ones. Okay, enough of this. Go get me food.

  Spider: See you soon.

  Tai

  We were still a good five minutes away from the house she lives at when she stopped furiously pecking at my phone and put it in her pocket.

  “Uhh, I’m going to need that back,” I said, amused.

  “No, I don’t think you will.” Her voice was really cold. Distant. She stared forward, everything about her screaming seething.

  “What’s going on, Azzie?”

  “Oh, just had a really interesting conversation with Spider. Yeah, extra interesting since he thought he was talking to you for most of it.” Oh. Shit. “So, PTSD, huh? Glad you all got together and talked about that, how to handle me. That’s sure to be helpful. Maybe. I don’t know, since I’m thinking about leaving you behind now. Give me one fucking GOOD REASON to bring you and your lying-ass brother with us. One reason, Tai, that might counteract the utter bullshit I just had to parse through, because Spider sure couldn’t!”

  What the fuck did Spider say to her?

  “I don’t know what Spider said but—”

  “CUT THE BULLSHIT, TAI!” She screamed at me, and in the small cabin of the Jeep, the sound was piercing. I felt like it jabbed right through me, right through my chest, as everything I’d been starting to feel hopeful about broke into pieces around me. I pulled over, resting my forehead on the steering wheel, trying to get air into my lungs.

  “I don’t have a good reason,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm. “You obviously don’t want to believe anything I say so what’s the—”

  “You stupid fucking asshole,” she glared at me, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Why can’t you just tell the fucking truth for once?”

  “I’ve never lied to you,” I said wearily, slumping back in my seat. “I didn’t always tell you everything, but I’ve never lied. I told you I wouldn’t. I told you about the study even though it could have destroyed everything. I told you about us, who we are, which could get us killed. You know I’m a soldier, we talked about it. I have experience with PTSD, I’ve seen it in my friends, I’ve seen it in myself, and I see it in you. Why is it so terrible that I want to help you? Why do you always have to fight me?”

  “Why couldn’t you have just sat down with me, just like this, and told me what you suspected?” she snapped, the sarcasm thick in everything she’d said since putting away my phone.

  “I would have, eventually. Once we were away from the immediate danger and I could talk to you for a reasonable amount of time and not the fifteen fucking minutes I get during your phlebotomy.” I was so exhausted now, her rage was leaching everything out of me, and right now I think I’d be fine if she told me we weren’t going, I’d just go home and sleep until the soldiers came. “Give me my phone. I’ll let Spider know we’re not going. I’ll drop you off. You won’t have to see us again.”

  “Must be comfortable up on that cross since you’re giving up that easily.” She actually sneered at me. Goddammit, now I was getting mad.

  “What’s the fucking point, Azzie?” I shouted at her. “What’s the point in trying to convince you of anything? You’ll just think the worst! You always do! I’ll sound desperate — which I AM — and you’ll assume it’s because I don’t want to be left behind no matter what I tell you, never ONCE considering there might be another reason that I don’t want you to leave us behind!”

  “THEN GIVE ME THAT REASON!” She screamed back at me, and I flinched, my anger tasting bitter in my mouth.

  “NO!” I shouted back. “No! You don’t get to use it against me!”

  I put the car in gear and merged back into traffic, finishing the ride to her house in silence.

  I turned off the ignition and stared down at the steering wheel, unsure what to do. She’d been crying the whole time, not even trying to hide it, and I was at a loss.

  “Here’s your fucking phone,” she snarled, tossing it at me. “I can’t believe you couldn’t come up with one fucking thing to tell me to try to— oh, fuck it! Fucking forget it!” She jumped from the vehicle and slammed the door, running toward her house and going inside, leaving me at the curb.

  I read their conversation. Then I read it again. Then I thought through what just happened, and recognized the moment where her real-but-not anger became very, very real. The moment when I turned it back on her instead of explaining, instead of stepping up like my brother did and just telling her what I feel. Instead I did everything I could to dodge the blame and to protect my precious, precious feelings by making her the villain. I said you won’t believe anything I say, when I should’ve trusted her, given her the one fucking reason and trusted her not to throw me away.

  The one fucking reason, that I love her.

  I knocked on the door. No one answered.

  I circled around the house and found the porch like Sasha described, climbed over the railing, and knocked on the door. She answered, her face as swollen and raw with tears as when she was dealing with McNamara, and it wasn’t fake this time either. She wouldn’t look at me, she opened the door and then turned back into the room and walked away.

  I ducked inside and shut the door behind me, dropping my bag on the ground near the door. She’d disappeared into the rest of the house and I heard her talking to someone. I stood in the middle of the room looking around, hoping she’d come back before the rest of the guys arrived.

  She did.

  “Spider didn’t give you one reason,” I said after clearing my throat. “He gave you a bunch of them.”

  She shrugged. She went into a large bathroom, leaving the door open, and turned on the tap, digging a washcloth out of the cupboard. I moved over to the doorway and watched her wet the cloth with cold water and hold it against her eyes, then rewet it and do it again, trying to get the swelling down.

  “My brother has always been better at this stuff than me, better with people. And after— after I was deployed, it just got harder for me.” She paused, but didn’t say anything. “Like I said in the car, I have PTSD too, it’s why I recognized it in you. And I’ve been treated for it, but it never actually goes away, you know? You just learn to recognize the ways you’re fucking things up and try to stop yourself. Sometimes you do, sometimes you don’t recognize it fast enough. I didn’t recognize it fast enough, so now I’m trying to scramble to fix things, and I hate this, Azzie. I hate that I’m always three steps behind, trying to make up for some shit I did because I wasn’t careful. I hate making excuses, I hate having to explain, and I hate that look people get on their faces when I try to explain, like they hear the words but it’s just an excuse I’m making and not a real thing. It makes me tired, and I give up on trying to fix the shit I broke because it’s never really fixed, you know? You can glue the pieces back together but it’ll never be the way it was. It’ll never be whole and undamaged again.”

  Her hand fumbled with the faucet, turning it off, but she didn’t move. I felt the slightest stirring of hope. If anyone could understand…
>
  I kept talking, going against every instinct I had to shut down, put up walls, and keep her out. “I push people away, Azzie. I do it because I expect them to leave anyway. Why would anyone choose to deal with this? Who is going to want to make the effort? For me? I’m not worth that much effort, I’m a fucking imposter, I shouldn’t even be here. I was supposed to die, like the others did. I lived, and that’s the biggest fucking joke of them all because any one of them deserved to live more than me. Does this sound familiar to you? And now I can’t relate to people anymore. Deep down, I don’t know why they’d want to be with me, so I expect everyone to give up on me, get tired of my bullshit, get frustrated with what a fuck-up I am, and leave me behind. I do what I have to, to protect myself.”

  She still hadn’t moved. She still wasn’t looking at me.

  “The fight we just had, none of that was about you, not really. The shit I said that made it sound like you were the bad guy, that you were the one being difficult and turning shit around on me, that was all me. Even as I said it, I knew I was projecting all my shit on you, doing all the things the therapist warned me about: giving you half answers that sound good enough so I can throw them in your face, accusing you of all the things I’m doing, and pushing you away but making it sound like you were the one leaving. I’ve got a reason, Azzie, but I can’t say it. Not because I don’t trust you not to use it against me, that was bullshit, but because I don’t want to say it right now, like this. I don’t want it to be about this.”

  She turned and stepped into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. My arms tightened around her and the fist inside my chest released its grip.