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Page 26 of Empowereds

25

E nzo woke first. The solar panels had begun working again, humming heat through the vents. Lighted outlets along the floor glowed, announcing daybreak was upon them.

At some point during the night, either Charity had snuggled up next to him or he had to her. They lay in the center of the bed, and she was curled against his side. She looked beautiful while she slept, her hair messy and haloing around her shoulders.

Over the last two weeks, he’d tried not to stare too much at her, but now he watched her, attempting to memorize her features. Things would change between them today.

Whatever her family had in store for him, they wouldn’t give him the freedom or easy access to Charity that he’d had during the last two weeks. They would have to do something to keep him from escaping.

He remembered a story of a long-ago explorer who’d come among a group of primitive people. They liked him so much that they didn’t want him to leave and so had cut off his feet to ensure he didn’t.

Hopefully, her family didn’t have anything so gruesome planned for him. Charity might even be right, and they’d let him go. They might whisk her away and leave him here to find his way back to the city.

It would take him so long to trek to civilization that they could be far away by the time he made any sort of report. No doubt they had been building new identities during the last two weeks.

The possibility of freedom should have propelled him out of bed and set him packing his things. Instead, he stayed where he was, watching Charity and fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her.

After about an hour, her eyes finally flickered open. She blinked in confusion, looked around the room, and then remembered. “What time is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I just woke up.”

She sat up and noticed her phone on the edge of the mattress. The screen was dark. “Ugh. I’ll need to charge this.” She threw back the covers, and her long legs slipped from the bed. “We better get ready. We don’t know what time my parents are coming.”

It shouldn’t have bothered him that she sounded excited about that reunion.

Enzo had used a sewing kit to repair the hole in his backpack. The black thread against the green material looked vaguely like Frankenstein stitching, but it held well enough. He packed up the clothes he’d come with and made a pancake breakfast with the last of the flour.

Then, because her family hadn’t shown up, they did their morning workout with the weights and treadmill, showered, and got re-dressed.

Still, no sign of anyone.

Charity was sure they would come during the day. Driving at night was more dangerous, especially on the back roads when the van’s headlights would announce their position to anyone in the vicinity.

They read and ate lunch. None of Charity’s pacing to the computer cameras yielded any information. They ate dinner and played games until the lights began dimming and it became apparent her parents wouldn’t come tonight.

“Maybe they got a flat tire,” Enzo said because her worry was almost palpable. “Or maybe they got busy with something else and will come tomorrow.”

She pushed her chair from the table and checked the cameras yet again. “The vision was clear on the timeframe. Wouldn’t it have told them beforehand if they’d needed to change a tire to get here on time?”

As if he knew how the visions worked. “What exactly did the vision say?”

“The vision showed my parents in the van and my mother said, “We’re dropping off the newlyweds at the cabin for two weeks.”

Enzo almost didn’t want to point out the obvious. “The vision said we should stay here for that amount of time, but it never said your parents would pick us up again. I’m sure they wanted to, but did your father also have a vision that said he’d be able to pick us up?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I suppose not. But why would the vision say two weeks if they were picking us up at a different time?”

He shrugged. “None of it makes sense to me. I’m still surprised we were actually safe here for two weeks.”

She turned away from the security screens, crossed her arms, and leaned on the counter. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what comes next.”

That pretty much summed up life for most of humanity. “We’ve got enough food. We could set out on our own.”

She shook her head. “How would I ever find my family again? They must want me to wait for them, or they would’ve given me different instructions. They’ll come for me.” She bit her bottom lip. “You only promised to stay here for two weeks. If you want to go, I’ll understand.”

He stared at her, surprised. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been. He’d never really been her captive. She’d only insisted he stay because the vision said he should. Still, he found himself saying, “You don’t want me to stay with you?”

“You’re worried my family will kill you. What if I’m wrong and you’re right? They can’t get mad at me for letting you go. The two weeks is over.”

He nodded. It was decided then. “I’ll leave tomorrow at daybreak. What provisions are you willing to part with?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “This time, you’re asking? We can split up the food. I’ll give you my father’s Ruger too.”

He raised his eyebrows. All of this time, she had a gun?

“Before I give it to you,” she said, “you have to promise not to use it on anyone in my family. If you meet them driving up the road, you can’t threaten or shoot them or their vehicle.”

“I’ll wish them luck on their escape.” Oddly enough, he meant it. Which might mean he’d gotten Stockholm Syndrome after all.

“I’ll get the rest of the cans from under my parents’ bed and divide them up.” She disappeared down the hallway.

He went to the cupboards and checked the stash there. “What will you do if you eat all the food here, and they still haven’t come for you? You’ll have to set out on your own without food or a weapon.” He hated to think of her slowly starving up here. “I’ll just take a quarter of the food,” he called to her. “I can get by on that.” He’d read the survival guide in the bunker’s bookshelf enough times that he’d be able to locate some edible plants.

She didn’t answer. He opened a kitchen cupboard and began filling water bottles.

A startled scream sounded from the master bedroom. Enzo dropped the water bottle and sprinted toward the back room. A snake, he told himself. Some animal had probably come inside.

He opened the door and found her kneeling in front of the box of cans, gripping a piece of paper with shaking hands.

“What is it?” he asked.

She looked at him, tears already glistening in her eyes. She held out the paper, a handwritten letter.

Charity,

We didn’t want to tell you before because we knew you’d worry, or worse, leave the cabin early. Your father has seen that we can’t come back to pick you up after two weeks. Don’t stay at the cabin. You need to go with Enzo. He’ll keep you safe. There’s a map in the bottom of the box.

Also, your father says to memorize the number 991633137

We love you and know we’ll meet again. We hold onto that hope.

All our love,

Mom and Dad

Charity got to her feet, breathing hard. “My mother wrote it beforehand. She must’ve left it here while my father tied you to the chair. They knew and didn’t tell me. Why can’t they come back?” Her voice choked with emotion. “I didn’t know I was saying goodbye to them.”

Enzo reread the paper. They’d told her to go with him? They just assumed the enemy they’d kidnapped and threatened to kill would keep their daughter safe?

Charity put her hand to her throat. “Maybe they couldn’t reach the cabin because of the war. The roads around here are probably closed off. But why would they tell us to set off on foot when soldiers or raiders might still be in the area?”

And suddenly this entire trip made sense to Enzo—he and Charity, alone together for two weeks. Ben had known what would happen, he’d planned for it to happen, and nothing Enzo had done had prevented it from happening.

Enzo gripped the letter so hard the paper crumpled. “Because they knew I would take you with me and do everything in my power to keep you from harm.”

He thrust the letter back to her. “Our honeymoon was never about having a baby. Neither of us had to worry about that. The vision had us stay here for two weeks because at the end of that time, I’d be so attached to you, I would put my life on the line to protect you. The last two weeks were all about giving you your own bodyguard.”

She blinked at him. “You’d put your life on the line for me?”

“Turns out I have some weak spots after all, and you’re one of them.” He rifled through the box until he found a folded map at the bottom. Good. At least he could find a way back to civilization.

She clutched the letter to her chest. “Where will you take me?”

“Back to Kansas City.” The map was of Arkansas. A spot on the Ozarks was circled. Must be their location. “We’ll figure something out once we’re there. I’ll get you a new identity if I have to. Your parents knew I’d take care of you. That’s what they wanted for you—a normal, safe life.”

Her gaze dropped to the paper again. “The number can’t be a phone number. Maybe it’s a zip code? Maybe we’re supposed to go there?”

“Wouldn’t your father have told you if you were supposed to go to a place? It’s easier to remember a name.”

Charity didn’t answer, just repeated the number over and over again, reciting it like a prayer.

He hated to point out the obvious. “If that’s a zip code, it’s somewhere in the far west coast in the breakaway states. We wouldn’t have a way to get there if we wanted.”

She took a step back from him, shaking her head. “I can’t stay in Kansas City. How will I ever see my family again? How will they find me?”

“Your father is psychic. If he needs to find you, he can. For now, he told you to go with me.” Enzo ran his finger along one of the roads on the map, tracing it back to the city. “Looks like my mother will get to meet you after all.” She would probably love Charity. Charity was all sorts of wholesome and kindness that mothers appreciated.

While he studied the map, Charity read the letter again. “My father has always been able to keep me out of danger. I don’t understand why he’d give you that job … unless something bad is going to happen to them. My mom wrote we’ll meet again . That sounds like something you say when you think you’re going to die.” The tears that had been threatening began to stream down her cheeks.

Almost reflexively, Enzo pulled her into a hug. “You don’t know that it means that. It probably doesn’t. Your father will get the direction he needs to stay safe.” He kissed the tears on one cheek, then moved to the other. “Don’t worry. They’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you. That’s what I’m supposed to do.” And suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad task.

He left more kisses on her cheeks, on her jawline, on her neck until she stopped crying. Then he moved to her lips. Her mouth was soft and warm, and after a few moments, eager. She pressed closer to him. She wanted to be comforted.

Her hands roamed over his chest, gliding past the buttons but not staying there. He’d been so stupid to reject her before, to keep her at arm’s length. Right now, he wanted nothing more in the world than to feel her fingers undoing those buttons.

Last night, he’d laid in his bed, holding her hand, wanting her like crazy, and hadn’t done a thing.

He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Enzo picked Charity up and carried her into his bedroom.