Zommunist Invasion Box Set | Books 1-3

by Picott, Camille

He found her in Mr. Cecchino’s bedroom, curled up in the middle of her father’s rumpled bed. Her face was buried in his pillow. Her shoulders shook with tears.

  Dal’s legs gave out. He knew he should comfort her, but he didn’t have the strength. He slumped to the floor against the door jam. A pair of Mr. Cecchino’s work boots sat just beside him, covered with dry mud from the orchard.

  The room still smelled like him. A mix of tobacco and dirt and soap. Two-thirds of the closet was still filled with Mrs. Cecchino’s clothes.

  Dal’s head drooped as grief overtook him. The sadness was deep and heavy, settling around his shoulders with an oppressive weight. Tears dripped down his face.

  This was the first real pause they’d had all day, their first spare moment to grieve the loss of the man they both adored. Dal almost wished they were still on the run. He didn’t have to think when they were fighting and running for their lives.

  They remained like that for a long while, together yet separate in their grief. Dal felt sorrow move through him with every sob that shook Lena.

  After a while, she rose. She paused on her way out the door, one hand resting on his rumpled hair. Then she was gone, disappearing into another part of the house. He heard her moving around in the living room.

  The room was unbearable without her. He couldn’t shoulder the weight of it alone. Forcing himself back to his feet, he went in search of her.

  As he exited the hallway, shock froze him in place.

  Lena had changed into plain jeans and a soft long-sleeve shirt. But that wasn’t what was strange. What stalled him was the sight of her feet.

  She didn’t wear socks and her customary Converse. In their place was something he never thought he’d see her wear again: her ballerina slippers.

  They’d hung untouched for over two years on the coat rack in the entryway. Mr. Cecchino moved them around to make sure they weren’t completely covered with coats, but Lena hadn’t touched them after her mother died.

  Now the satin pink slippers covered her slender feet.

  Dal had seen Lena dance. He’d been to her recitals with the family. He remembered every one.

  Every. Single. One.

  Even as a pre-pubescent kid, Dal had a crush on Lena. She was his best friend’s wild and sometimes annoying little sister. He was a punk to her a lot of time when they were kids, going along with whatever Leo or Anton came up with to antagonize her.

  He was thirteen the first time he’d seen her dance. She’d been a fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

  It had been impossible to take his eyes off her. She’d moved like water. Like air. Like part of the earth itself. The world could have ended in that moment and he wouldn’t have cared. He’d had to cover his crotch with his jean jacket.

  It was only during intermission that he’d been able to catch his breath. That’s when he noticed Mr. Cecchino watching him.

  The look had been long and knowing. Dal broke eye contact, flushed with embarrassment. Lucky for him, Mrs. Cecchino was preoccupied reapplying her lipstick. Anton was busy reading a comic book. Leo had fallen asleep in the chair.

  But Mr. Cecchino had seen. Dal wanted to melt into the floor.

  After that day, he kept his crush tightly under wraps. No covert looks at Lena when she wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t even allow himself to entertain thoughts of her. He moved her to a place in his mind where other forbidden things went, like his hatred for his father and the knowledge that he was just like him. He kept her there out of adoration for a man who had made him hot chocolate when his own father beat the shit out of him.

  The dam had been purposefully and meticulously constructed over the years. Dal had been sure it could withstand a nuclear blast.

  He’d been wrong.

  The wall came crashing down in a matter of seconds as he watched her dance. The living room fell away. Lena was once again on the stage, dancing front and center where she belonged.

  She danced in front of the coffee table. On it she had placed the wedding portrait of her parents. She spun and leaped and twirled for them in the light of a single lamp. She cried softly as she did, her pink slippers twirling in the worn, dark brown carpet of the living room.

  Dal drifted into the room, unable to take his eyes off her. Her hair was still damp, loose strands hanging around her face.

  She leaped, her legs stretching into a perfect split. He could almost imagine away the jeans and see the wispy pink ballerina skirt around her legs.

  She landed in front of him, balanced perfectly on the toes of her left foot.

  Her eyes met his. It was impossible for him to pretend. His wall was a wreckage around his feet. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he stared into her dark eyes. He saw his grief for Mr. Cecchino reflected back at him.

  But there was something else there. Something magnetic.

  Her next leap brought her to him. His arms closed around her. Her mouth found his in a kiss.

  He couldn’t think straight. Every brain cell fell out of his head as he drank her in. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, wanting to taste her.

  Without breaking the kiss, she tugged on his shirt to lead him across the room. Dal followed her lips, his hands tightening on her waist.

  When he finally came up for air, they were in Lena’s bedroom. Her shirt was gone, her breasts cupped by a simple black cotton bra. Her hair was loose, falling in waves past her elbows. She was so Goddamn beautiful.

  He needed to touch every part of her. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, and her fingertips. He chased the line of her collarbone with his tongue. Her clothes melted away under his hands.

  It wasn’t until they were both naked in her bed that a semblance of sanity returned to him. He wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe, but he forced himself to do the right thing.

  “Lena.” His voice was gruff. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “If I wasn’t ready I wouldn’t be here, dummy.”

  Dal didn’t possess enough sanity to try and talk her out of it. He was raw with feelings he couldn’t control. Thank God he always kept a few spare condoms in his wallet.

  He forced himself to slow down, to pull back just enough so he could look into her eyes. “Is this your first time?” He didn’t want to hurt her. There’d been a few boys here and there throughout high school, but Lena never kept any of them around for long.

  She nodded in silent answer to his question. Her hand came up to trace the line of his jaw. “I always wanted it to be with you, Dal.” Her fingers slid around to grip his hair. She pulled his face back down to hers.

  Dal gave himself over completely and lost himself inside her.

  After, she fell asleep on his chest. He could hardly believe she was sprawled on top of him. He had never, ever let himself dream of a moment like this.

  He rested one hand on her hip, eyes closed. His other hand fiddled absently with the friendship bracelets on Lena’s wrist. He was exhausted, but knowing there were Russians and nezhit out there made it impossible to sleep. At least Lena could rest for a while. They’d have to leave soon and go to the cabin.

  How could the best day of his life also be the worst day of his life? He’d lost Mr. Cecchino and found Lena all in the same day.

  Lena twitched violently in his arms. She jerked awake, eyes wild as she looked around in momentary confusion.

  “It’s okay.” Dal caressed her back, pulling her close. “You’re okay.”

  She burrowed her face into his chest. He wanted to hold her forever.

  “I love you, Lena.” The words came out before he could think better of them. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he said, attempting to back pedal. “I just want you to know. You know, in case the Russians barge in here and kill us in the next five minutes.”

  She blinked in surprise, gazing at him. Then she tilted her head and smiled at him. “Dallas Granger, I’ve been in love with you since I was six years o
ld and you saved me from Nonna’s goat.”

  He stared stupidly at her. “Really?” Of all the things he might have guessed she would say in response to his declaration, the goat story hadn’t been on his radar.

  “Yeah.” She grinned at him. “Don’t you remember? That big billy goat got mad when I fed an apple to the nanny goat. He rammed me in the butt and knocked me down.”

  “I punched the goat.” Dal still remembered that day. He’d been horrified at his display of violence, worried the Cecchino family would think he was like his father.

  “You yelled and punched the goat and told him to stay the hell away from me.” Lena kissed his cheek. “My knight in plaid. It was all over for me after that.” She kissed him again.

  It was a long, slow kiss. Dal savored every second. It was nice hearing her retell the story.

  “Why didn’t you say anything before this?” he asked.

  She raised a brow. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to disrespect your parents.”

  She let out a long sigh. “I know. That’s probably another reason why I love you. Because you loved my parents as much as I did.” She relaxed against him again, returning her head to his chest. “I knew Dad wouldn’t let you stay if we were dating. But I knew you’d eventually move out.” She raised a teasing eyebrow. “You were going to be fair game once you moved out. I had a plan.”

  “Did you?” He chuckled and tightened his hold on her. “What was your plan?”

  “I was just going to show up at your place all the time. I figured I could bring you Nonna’s leftovers at least three times a week. Then I figured I could probably talk you into helping me with homework at least another two nights. If I got desperate, I figured I’d offer to come help you clean your place. Eventually, I figured you’d ask me to stick around and watch a movie or have a cup of coffee. That’s when I planned to make my move.”

  He was loving every second of this conversation. “What was your move?” He was dying to know.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t worked that out. For some reason, making a move seemed way harder than offering to clean your bathroom sink.”

  He wrinkled his brow, unsure if she was teasing. “You weren’t really going to offer to clean my future apartment, were you?”

  “If that’s what it took to get you to notice me.”

  “Shit, I’d have moved out the day I graduated high school if I’d known that.”

  Her laugh vibrated all the way through his chest.

  “Do you remember that time you spent an entire Sunday afternoon making raviolis?” he asked. “Nonna was sick and you decided it was your job to make dinner for the family.”

  “You’re really going to bring up the time I dumped homemade raviolis into boiling water and blew them all up?”

  Dal smoothed his hands up and down her back. Her skin was so soft. “I remember thinking you were going to make some guy really happy one day.”

  “Because I blew up raviolis?”

  “No. Because you loved your family enough to try making a hard meal from scratch when you could have just boiled store-bought noodles and dumped a jar of sauce on it.”

  “Dad took us all to McDonald’s that night for dinner. Anton and Leo teased me about that for weeks.”

  Dal remembered. They had called her the Italian who couldn’t make Italian.

  “My brothers can be real dickheads sometimes.” Her mirth faded. “We should get to the cabin.” She swallowed, giving him a sad smile. “We have to tell them about Dad.”

  He sat up and pulled her into his lap. He got one last long kiss, not sure when they’d have a chance to be alone again.

  A short while later, they left the house. The sun was just beginning to rise. With the transmitter and the horses, they started the long trek up Pole Mountain.

  30

  Homecoming

  Leo was up at dawn. Worry for Lena, Dal, and his father had gnawed at him all night. He wasn’t surprised to find Nonna already up, bustling around the kitchen.

  “Oh good, you’re up. I need you to make me a fire.”

  Leo was grateful for something to keep him busy. Leery of spiders, he grabbed a flashlight and went outside to the woodpile. There were black widows and brown recluse in this area. A strong flashlight beam was enough to scare them if any happened to be on the logs he grabbed.

  He had just picked up the first log when he heard it: the nicker of a horse.

  What the hell? Alarm spiked through him. There sure as hell weren’t horses in these woods. Foxes, yes. Bobcats, yes. Coyotes and mountain lions and raccoons and skunks, yes.

  But no horses.

  Leo dropped the wood and tore back up the stairs. He snatched up his rifle, flipped over the picnic table, and crouched behind it.

  “Leonardo. What’s going on?” Nonna demanded.

  “Stay down, Nonna. I heard a horse. Someone’s coming up the road.”

  Nonna tensed. He heard her moving behind him. Seconds later, she crouched beside him with her rifle.

  “Nonna, get inside.”

  She smacked him on the side of the head.

  “Ow!”

  Nonna glared at him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Leonardo. I am head of this household until your father gets back.”

  “Sorry.”

  She huffed as she rested the barrel of her rifle on the edge of the table. They waited in tense silence, watching the crest of the road. The sky had lightened to a pale gray, increasing their visibility.

  A horse nickered again, this time closer. Whoever was out there was almost to the cabin.

  “Get ready,” Nonna murmured. “If you see a Soviet, pull the trigger.”

  None of this made sense. How could Russians have found the road to Pole Mountain? The road was at such an angle that it couldn’t be seen from the farm. You could only find the entrance if you practically fell over it.

  He had a nagging worry they’d been followed from the Craig farm. Setting the truck and the bodies on fire had been a brass move. Maybe a stupid one. To make it all worse, they’d left their name on the destruction. What if the Russians had somehow tied the word sniper to the Cecchino farm?

  This wasn’t a stupid football game. Big risks could get them killed. He should have been more careful.

  Something moved on the road. A pair of horse ears appeared.

  “They’re here,” Nonna murmured. “Be ready, Leonardo.”

  He rested his finger on the trigger, sighting down the barrel.

  The head of a black horse appeared. Beside it also came the dark brown head of a bay. The horses walked calmly into view, nickering.

  “Leo,” a familiar voice called. “Leo, we’re home!”

  Leo jumped to his feet, a grin splitting his face. “Dal!” he boomed. He took the steps two at a time.

  The horses fully crested the rise in the road and emerged into sight. Atop them were Dal and his baby sister, their clasped hands dangling together in the space between the horses.

  “Lena!” Leo had never been so happy to see her. He dragged her off the horse, swinging around in a big hug. “Anton,” he shouted. “Get up, you lazy ass! Our family is back.”

  Lena was laughing as Leo twirled her around.

  “I just want you to know I’m sorry about that time when I put ants in your bed,” Leo told her.

  “I was ten, dummy.” Lena punched him playfully in the arm as he set her down.

  “I know.” For some reason, his worry for Lena had led him to regretting that stupid prank. Lena had been mad at him for weeks. “But it was a dick thing to do.”

  “It was. But I forgive you.”

  Anton and the others piled onto the porch. There was a huge commotion as everyone ran into the clearing at the same time.

  Lena ran to Anton. She laughed when he, too, picked her up by the waist and swung her around.

  “What the hell, dude?” Jim Craig said to Dal, slapping him on the back. “You scared the hell out of us.”<
br />
  “You missed Leo and the guys savings our asses from Russian kidnappers,” Tate said.

  “It wasn’t just the guys,” Jennifer said. “There was a gal who was there, you know.”

  Twin frowns marred Lena and Dal’s face when they caught sight of Jennifer. They disliked her on his account. Leo loved them for that, but he needed to dispel the tension if they were all going to live together at the cabin.

  “Jennifer was pretty badass,” he said. “She pulled a rad gymnastics move and took out a Russian with a knife in the back.”

  “Don’t forget about the zombie she killed with a stiletto,” Anton added.

  Nonna embraced Dal. “Thanks for getting my Angelina back safely,” she said, voice gruff.

  “She got me back safely,” Dal replied.

  Lena slipped in close to Dal and took his hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “We got each other back safely.”

  Leo blinked, staring at the two of them. He dimly recalled them holding hands when they arrived here, but he’d been too distracted to process it. But now he saw.

  So did Anton. And Nonna. And everyone else. You could have heard a pin drop.

  Anton scowled.

  Lena met the stares with a bold one of her own. Her hand tightened on Dal’s.

  His best friend looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground, but he remained rooted beside Lena. He didn’t try to explain or make excuses. What he did do was tighten his grip on Lena’s hand like he never intended to let her go.

  Leo grinned. “About damn time.” Dal had been crushing on his sister for years, but he was too decent to ever make a move. It must have been Lena’s doing.

  “You’re seriously okay with this?” Anton gestured angrily at Dal and Lena’s linked hands.

  “Take a chill pill,” Leo told him. “Can you seriously name one guy you trust with our sister more than Dal?”

  Anton spluttered. “That’s not the point. She’s our sister.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not a nun.” Lena shot back. Dal gave Anton an apologetic shrug, but remained firmly attached to Lena.

  “Where’s my Giuseppe?” Nonna’s voice came down like a hatchet. “He went to find you in Rossi.”