Page 62

What exactly was she planning to do about her problem? I felt a tug of possessiveness over my guys, but that faded quickly in light of the overwhelming awe I had for her. She confronted her grief with inspiring determination. I’d been a barely-functioning zombie for weeks after Joel died, wandering alone and longing for death.

And to think, Shea’s husband died the day before we found her. Such bittersweet irony that he survived and cared for her to the end and inadvertently led us to her, yet he never got to see her healed.

Beneath her watery smile, her grief strained, tightening the skin around her mouth.

I started to move away from Jesse to—I don’t know—hug her? Did she need that? I was out of my element here.

She held up a hand. “Stay with your man.” She cleared her throat. “So what’s up with my urge to hump anything that moves? Cuz, honey, that ain’t normal.”

I rubbed a lock of Jesse’s hair between my fingers. “Remember I said I might’ve passed on some of my…traits?”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re horny, too?”

I pulled my fingers from his hair and shifted to the edge of the bed. “Something like that. It has to do with high testosterone.”

“Ah.” She stood and stretched her arms over her head, exposing the skeletal outline of her ribs through the thin shirt. “You said your missing guardian is a doctor?”

I closed my eyes, my chest clenching. “Yeah.”

Her footsteps approached, and her soft hand on my cheek drew my gaze to hers.

“I’m a veterinarian,” she whispered. “Now don’t ask me to do brain surgery, but I know my way around organs and bones. Maybe that’ll relieve some of the worry you’re carrying on your shoulders, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Seriously, I loved this woman. “Would you be able to check my IUD?”

She chuckled, lowering her hand. After our little heart-to-heart, she knew about Roark and Michio’s infertility and Jesse’s stance on intimacy.

“Only one reason you need an IUD, and he’s sexy as sin.” She pursed her lips, eyes on Jesse. “You’re optimistic, girl. I like that.”

A hand squeezed my hip, accompanied by Jesse’s groggy voice. “She’s delusional.”

I squinted at him over my shoulder. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.” He jack-knifed into a sitting position beside me, hooked an arm around my waist, and tugged me against him. Then he brushed his mouth over the shell of my ear. “Thank you for the nap.” He inhaled deeply. Was he smelling my hair? He was definitely stealing my air. “Really needed that, darlin’.”

“Sweet Jesus.” Shea fanned her face. “I feel like a voyeur.”

I laughed, meeting Jesse’s eyes inches away. “She’s awesome, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, without breaking our eye-contact.

“Pfft. You ain’t seen nothing.” She strode to the door. “Let me show you where we keep the generators and other cool toys. Like my ultrasound machine.” She winked at me. “You know, to check the position and effectiveness of your IUD.”

The fume of machinery oil and corroded sheet metal choked the air. Sweat trickled between my breasts in the stifling heat. I stood in a shed the size of a basketball court with Roark, Jesse, and Shea, the four of us gathered around the only section not piled with clutter. The vacant spot had clearly been occupied at one time, given the square outlines of dirt on the concrete and the amount of stuff filling every other inch of the space.

A stripe of sunlight filtered through the smudges on a single window, illuminating trucks, tractors, weed eaters, rusted skeletons of chain-link cages, and veterinary machines I couldn’t name. An old vending machine lay on its side, and long feeding troughs stacked against the far wall. But no generators.

“We kept them here.” Shea glared at the bare spot on the floor, fisting her hands on her hips. “Jackson must’ve…” She slapped a palm on her brow. “Of course, he used them. Duh. No electricity.”

Jesse turned in a circle, eyeing the space. “We’ve rummaged through every building on the reserve. There’re no generators.”

“Maybe he traded them?” I stepped through the clutter, searching for an ultrasound machine, though I didn’t know what one looked like and was fully aware we wouldn’t be able to use it. “You know, for food or weapons?”

We’d found her husband four-hundred miles away. Maybe he’d been desperate for supplies? Generators were among the first things looted when the lights flickered off. Two years later, locating one abandoned and still working was no easy feat.

Shea jutted her chin. “The fool better not have traded them for bling or dresses. That man loved to dote on me.” She lowered her voice, mumbling, “Even when I looked like a parasitic swamp donkey. God love him.”

I bit down on my cheek. Given the amount of feminine shit we’d found in his truck, my suspicions ran along the same lines. What a damned shame. A generator would’ve given us some comforting luxuries, like light at night, refrigeration for blood, and power for a sonogram.