The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3

by Mary, Kate L.

  “What was that?” Kellan lifted his eyebrows expectantly, once again making him seem like he was trying to be my father.

  “You’re not my dad, so get off my back,” I muttered instead of admitting—again—that I’d been impulsive and reckless.

  I shoved past him and kept moving through the market. There were a few other goodies stashed in my bag, but I now knew I couldn’t trade them. And there was no way in hell I’d let Kellan know I’d brought them. One mistake he would let go, but four? No way. I’d be hearing about that for years.

  Kellan was right on my heels, close enough that when he started talking, his breath brushed against the back of my neck. “Fine, I’m not your dad, but I am the asshole who’s responsible for you.”

  “Responsible for me?” I stopped and spun to face him. “What makes you think you’re responsible for me?”

  “Because we—” he jerked his thumb back and forth between the two of us, “—have been together since the beginning. I found you, and I took care of you before Jasper found us. I kept you alive.”

  I lifted my chin and glared up at him. “We kept each other alive. Don’t fool yourself, Kellan. You were as much a kid as I was.”

  “I was a teenager. Fifteen. You were a twelve-year-old, scared little girl.”

  He flung the words my way like he was trying to hurt me, and he succeeded. It was a low blow and one he rarely stooped to, and it hit the mark.

  I took a step back, blinking when tears clogged my throat, threatening to fill my eyes. “Sorry to be such a pain in the ass.”

  Kellan’s expression softened. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant.” A tear escaped from the corner of my eye without my permission, and I swiped it away. “I remember.”

  “Regan, I was fifteen. I was a kid and—”

  I cut him off by lifting my hand. “Forget it. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought the damn apple.”

  The boots draped across my shoulder seemed to have tripled in weight, and I found myself wishing I could go back in time and not get them. Not bring the apple, and maybe not even come on this run with Kellan. Blake or Cade would have been more than happy to be here right now. Even Emma. I was the baby of the family, though, and when I’d said I wanted to come, everyone had both encouraged it as a way for me to gain confidence, as well as tried to talk me out of it. Which had only made me want to come even more.

  “I won’t do it again.”

  I tried to turn my back on Kellan, but before I could, he grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. My face was pressed to his very firm chest when he wrapped his arms around me. It wasn’t the first time we’d hugged, not by a long shot, but it was the first time since I’d become aware of how solid he was, and how warm.

  “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”

  His face was pressed against the top of my head when he spoke, and the very stubble I’d been thinking about not fifteen minutes ago tickled my scalp. I swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, let alone talk. I was torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to stay in this spot forever. It was a hard decision to make, especially when it felt like my brain had turned to mush.

  “I’m sorry,” he said when I didn’t talk.

  I nodded because I didn’t want him to think I was still angry. The truth was, I was only angry at myself. I should’ve been smarter than this by now. I should’ve known not to bring the apple.

  Kellan pulled away but kept his hands on my shoulders as he looked down at me. The top of my head only came up to his mouth, despite my long, lanky frame, and when I peered up through my eyelashes, I could only focus on his lips.

  God, what was wrong with me? I wasn’t a teenager anymore, so I had no clue why I felt like a bundle of hormones. I blamed Emma. She was the one with the stash of romance novels, and lately she’d had no problem sharing the books with me. I’d stayed up one too many nights reading stories about damsels in distress and the big, strong men who rode in to save them. That was all it was.

  I stepped back, slipping from Kellan’s grasp. “Let’s get the things we came for.”

  “Okay.”

  He tilted his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes on me. They were full of questions I didn’t want to answer, so I turned away and headed through the crowd of people crammed into the market.

  Kellan passed me within seconds, and I let him. Thankfully, the interest my shiny little apple had produced seemed to have died down now that the man’s stomach was digesting the fruit, and very few people bothered glancing my way when I passed. Kellan was another story altogether. He seemed to draw the interest of every woman in the room. It was nothing new, but the feelings it conjured in me were. I’d grown up seeing women twice as voluptuous as I was give him sidelong glances, but it had never affected me like this before. Irritated me, yes. Made me jealous? Never. Only now, it did.

  I reached the back of the market where the shadows were long and thick, and found Kellan already debating with the man who ran the booth. He was ancient, gnarled, and grumpy, and rounder than anyone in the apocalypse had a right to be. How he stayed so plump was beyond me. It wasn’t like people were starving, not after nine years of figuring out how to survive this nightmare of a world, but we weren’t exactly living the gluttonous life that had at one time been so prevalent in this country. There were no more drive-thru windows promising an entire days’ worth of calories in a single bite, no more candy bars or carbonated beverages ripe with sugar. No, these days we ate to live and not the other way around.

  “They’re quality,” Kellan was saying as the pudgy man lifted the little piece of metal to inspect it. “You know they are, Simon.”

  Simon, who we’d been trading with for years, eyed the bullet between his fingers like he’d never seen one before. “Don’t mean I ain’t gonna check it out.” His gray eyes darted past the metal to Kellan, and then to me, and he grinned. “Jasper would do the same thing in my place.”

  “He’s right.” I leaned my hip against the booth and picked through the various junk littering the counter. There was nothing spectacular, and nothing I’d want, but it gave me something to think about other than Kellan.

  “Yeah, fine.” The grumble he let out was more for show.

  He’d done this same song and dance routine with Simon dozens of times before, and it wasn’t like Kellan was insulted by it or anything. He hadn’t even made the bullets himself, although he was learning how. Jasper and Blake were responsible for the ammunition.

  Simon slid the homemade bullet back into the box, along with the dozens of others, and nodded. “They look as good as always.”

  Kellan only rolled his eyes.

  I continued picking through the goods in Simon’s booth while he waddled to the back where the shadows were twice as thick. When he returned, he was holding his ledger. He scribbled a few shaky words before ripping out a piece of paper.

  Simon held it up dramatically and grinned at Kellan. “Tell Jasper we miss him.”

  “You know he’s not coming back,” Kellan replied as he took the paper, his voice low. “Says he’s not a good judge of character anymore.”

  “The old coot’s too paranoid.” Simon’s grin doubled in size, and his eyes twinkled like a little kid who had a secret he was desperate to share. “Or maybe not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  Simon glanced my way, but only for a second before he went to work stashing the bullets behind the counter. “Rumors going around, is all.”

  “What kind of rumors?” Kellan asked.

  Simon’s head was still down. “From what I hear, people are disappearing.”

  “I thought you were going to tell us something new,” I muttered.

  “They say zombies ain’t responsible.” Simon straightened with a groan. “They say it’s people.”

  My mind went to the truck we’d passed on the way into town. Marauders. There could be a new group in the a
rea. It had happened before, and when it did, we always had to be twice as careful. The people in Altus were used to seeing us come and go, used to how private we were about where we lived. It was even expected after what had happened three years ago. New people, however, were too nosey. Asked too many questions.

  If someone was new to the market, I wouldn’t be able to tell, but I looked around anyway. Kellan did, too, and the way his lips were pressed together told me Simon’s little story had him concerned.

  After a few seconds, Kellan focused on the older man. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”

  “Don’t know, exactly.” Simon scratched his ample belly through his stained shirt. “But people are whispering ‘bout that new government out east. Word is, they’re on the lookout for more people who are immune. Like that fella they got a few years back.”

  “More like eight years back,” Kellan corrected him even as his eyes darted my way.

  “Whatever.” Simon waved him off. “There’s a big fat reward up for grabs, and all yous gotta do is bring in somebody immune.”

  I shifted uncomfortably at the knowledge that someone around here was searching for immune people. “Reward? Are you talking about money?”

  “Credits,” Kellan said, this time aiming the correction at me. “They call them credits in the sanctioned settlements.”

  “Sanctioned settlements.” Simon let out a loud grunt. “More like volunteer prisons. You know they ain’t even allowed to leave them walls without permission?”

  “You don’t leave the walls.” Kellan pointed at Simon, grinning.

  The older man waved toward the front of the store. “But I can if I want! I live in a city with walls, but I can come and go whenever I damn well please.”

  “Some people don’t want to leave the safety of the walls,” I pointed out.

  Simon only rolled his eyes at that. “I ain’t gonna debate you ‘bout it. Just wanted to tell you to keep your eyes open when you’re out there.”

  “Always do.” Kellan slapped the counter before turning away. “We’ll catch you next month, Simon.”

  I pushed off the booth and followed Kellan as Simon called out, “Tell Jasper to get his grizzled old ass back here one day.”

  Kellan waved over his shoulder. “I’ll tell him.”

  “It won’t do any good,” I said, but not loud enough that Simon could hear me. “You think he’s full of shit?”

  “Maybe.” Kellan glanced back toward the booth we’d just left. “Honestly, though, I wouldn’t put anything past the assholes who run that new government.”

  “You sound like Jasper now.”

  Kellan shrugged as he pushed his way through the crowd. “Nothing wrong with that. He’s done right by me.” His gaze flitted my way. “By both of us.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” I snapped, mainly because I got the feeling he was trying to remind me that I should be grateful. As if I’d ever been anything else when it came to Jasper.

  “Come on.” Kellan started walking faster. “Let’s get our trading done so we can grab a room. I’m hungry and ready for a drink.”

  3

  There was only one inn located inside the walls. It was in a building on the other side of the square, above what had once been a row of shops. The rooms were crowded and stuffy in the summer since most didn’t have windows, and drafty in the winter, but I didn’t care as long as I had a bed at the end of the day. If the apocalypse had taught me anything, it was that a person could tolerate almost any discomfort if they were tired—or desperate—enough.

  There were only a handful of rooms since there wasn’t much of a need for them these days, so I wasn’t the least bit surprised when the woman behind the desk said, “We only got one open room.”

  “We can share.” Kellan shrugged as if the idea of us sharing a room was no big deal.

  “Two beds?” I asked the woman.

  He grinned down at me, showing off the dimple in his left cheek. “You afraid I have cooties?”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to hog the blankets,” I muttered, but heat moved up my neck at the thought of sharing a bed with Kellan.

  “There are two beds,” the woman grumbled, as if me asking the question was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

  She slapped a key on the desk, and Kellan swiped it up. “Thanks, Daisy Mae.”

  He winked before turning away, and I stuck around just long enough to see the scowl she directed at his back before hurrying after him.

  “Daisy Mae?” I whispered when I’d caught up.

  “Yeah.” He glanced my way, grinning. “She doesn’t look like a Daisy Mae to you?”

  “Um, no. Gertrude or Hag, maybe.”

  Kellan let out a low chuckle. “Hag isn’t a name.”

  “Well, it’s a personality trait, and she has it down.”

  He only laughed in response as he jogged up the rickety stairs to the third floor.

  Daisy Mae had been telling the truth about the room having two beds, but that was about all it had. While I wasn’t positive what this space had been before the zombies, my guess was a closet of some kind. The door hit one of the beds when Kellan shoved it open, preventing it from opening all the way, and once we were both inside, I had to stand between them so Kellan could get it shut again. With no electricity in Altus and no lights, the closed door made it impossibly dark, but Kellan fixed the problem when he lit the lantern that hung from a hook by the door. Getting a second look at the room didn’t make it seem any nicer.

  “Cozy,” I said as I tossed my bag onto the bed.

  “You don’t have to complain about everything.” Kellan threw his own bag on the other bed before pulling his shirt over his head. “Damn, I need a shower.” He actually lifted his arm so he could smell his pits.

  “You’re disgusting,” I said even though there wasn’t a thing about him that I found gross, especially not with his shirt off and the two of us crammed into this tiny room. He was inches from me, and even with his tanned skin spattered in sweat and dirt, I had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.

  The tattoos he’d gotten over the last few years stood out, flexing as he tossed his shirt to the floor, and he shot me a grin that accentuated both his dimple and his white teeth. “You might not want to talk before you’ve gotten a good whiff of yourself.”

  My back stiffened, and I ripped my gaze from his chest so I could scowl up at him. “I don’t smell.”

  “You sure about that?” Kellan’s grin widened, deepening the dimple in his left cheek.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yes.”

  “If you say so.”

  He shrugged before turning back to his bag to dig out another shirt. The second his back was turned, I snuck a whiff of my own armpit.

  “What’d I tell you?” Kellan said, making me jump.

  My nose was practically shoved under my arm when I looked up. He was grinning at me. A clean shirt was clutched in his hand, but he hadn’t yet put it on, and between the dimple in his cheek and his muscled chest, it was enough to make me lightheaded.

  I lifted my chin. “I’m good. Just like I thought I would be.”

  Kellan laughed as he pulled the shirt over his head.

  Once it was on, he nodded to my bag. “You going to change so we can eat or what?”

  “Eat.” I snorted and turned my back to him. “You just want a drink.”

  “Nothing wrong with letting off some steam.”

  I agreed, but I kept my mouth shut because I knew a drink wasn’t the only way he let off steam when he came to the settlement, and the last thing I wanted to do was think about him going home with some random woman.

  I kept my back to him as I pulled my filthy shirt over my head and tossed it aside, making quick work of it since I wasn’t wearing a bra and we were in such close quarters. My pants were dusty from the trip, but not bad enough that I bothered changing. There was no point in getting more clothe
s dirty if I could help it.

  When I was done, I turned back to find Kellan digging through his bag, his back to me and his gaze not wandering my way in the least. More than anything, it made heat snake up my neck to my cheeks. How pathetic was I? I hadn’t been able to look away when he was changing, but he found me so undesirable that he hadn’t even been tempted to take a peek.

  “I’m ready,” I said, faking an upbeat tone.

  Kellan didn’t look directly at me, but his eyes did flit my way when he threw his bag over his shoulder. “Good. Let’s get a drink.”

  There was more than one bar in town, but only one that doubled as a restaurant. Paying for food and drinks was tricky since this wasn’t a sanctioned settlement. The people here had no use for the government’s new money system—credits—and instead relied on trading goods and services.

  Kellan had long ago established a rapport with the man who ran the restaurant, though, and after settling in at a table it took only a few minutes of negotiations for him to work out a trade and our orders to be placed. Two bowls of stew—the ingredients of which I didn’t ask about—and a total of six drinks from the bar, which we got started on right away.

  We were in the middle of eating when I spotted the woman from the street. She was still on the other side of the room, but already headed our way. Her gaze was zeroed in on Kellan as she wove her way through the crowd, and her predatory expression reminded me of a coyote tracking a rabbit.

  “Kellan,” she said when she’d stopped next to our table.

  “Chelsea.” When he leaned back, his grin made my stomach flip inside out then upside down.

  Chelsea’s gaze moved to me, but it was brief and dismissive, and in seconds she was once again focused on him, smiling like she’d already won her prize. “No Cade this time?”

  “Naw. He stayed at the farm.” Kellan’s dimple deepened.

  “He’s off the market,” I snapped.

  Neither of them looked my way, but Chelsea did press her lips into a puckered frown. “That’s too bad.”

  “I’m sure he’ll still be sorry he missed you,” Kellan said, his smile growing wider.