Page 30

Wade fucked up. Knew it would happen eventually, but he’s still confused about why and how.

Touch me anywhere you want. However you want, she told him, but the moment he showed her affection beyond the usual, she couldn’t get away fast enough.

He sits in shock where she left him, trying to piece together what went wrong in a mental loop of mistakes. He didn’t have any motive beyond wanting to be closer to her and she’d been so receptive. Melted back against him like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

Maybe it was how he held her, he wonders, arms bracketed like a cage. Could be a reminder that she’s far too close to someone as dangerous as him.

Or, maybe it was the kiss. She only went rigid when he brushed his lips to her temple.

He went too far, overstepped unwritten boundaries, and if she leaves him for good now, he’ll have earned it.

The kitchen begins to feel like a stadium as possible outcomes, each worse than the last, tumble in his head.

He can’t live here without her. He isn’t ready.

She makes him feel like he can succeed when he’d otherwise fail.

If he’s left to his own devices, he’ll curl up in the corner and never move again.

Wade slides off the counter, curbing the desire to chase her and beg forgiveness. She wants space, and she’s earned that much. The dirty plates in the sink are a mocking reminder of a stupid idea. He’s trying too damn hard, and it backfired.

Kara said she needed a minute, but ten go by with nothing but silence. Her name throttles in his throat along with a desperate request for clarification. All she has to do is tell him exactly what’s off-limits and he’ll follow that rule like a bible, but he’s not confident enough to ask.

When the dog begins to whine at the back door, Wade absently opens it, too consumed with his own thoughts to pay attention.

One moment Gator is sniffing the grass and the next, he’s chasing a squirrel across the unfenced yard and around a corner.

Instinct pushes Wade to the edge of the back deck where his bravery ends.

He can’t venture out alone into a community filled with enough terrors to land him in another panic attack.

Without Kara as a pretty band-aid, all his scars still bleed at the slightest scratch.

Left with little choice, he calls her name because someone has to find this damn dog. The fact that she nearly skids to a stop at the back door proves he must sound on the edge of a breakdown already.

“Gator’s gone,” he says simply.

“Where?”

“Don’t know. Chased a squirrel, he was gone before I could grab him.”

“Okay. We’ll find him. He can’t get far. The whole community is fenced.”

It’s only then that he notices her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and fresh tear tracks. He made her cry without even trying. That’s turning his world upside down in more ways than one.

She sniffles hard, looking away but still calm as ever. “Come on, we’ll grab some food for him and go look.”

They should talk about what happened, yet choose to ignore the glaring problem and leave the house to search for a distraction instead.

Despite everything, it’s not lost on him that it’s easier to step off that deck and into the unknown with her by his side again. This place is just as overwhelming now as it was the first time he walked through the gates.

The sun is out, shining down like a spotlight to burn his retinas and encourage everyone onto the streets.

Kids toss balls and ride skateboards down rough roads, grinding against his eardrums.

The fence is being reinforced. The steady tap of the hammer runs up his spine like a ghost.

A power saw hums in an open garage, slicing new boards for the supports and stopping him in his tracks. The blade catches the edge of a metal table and spits out sparks that remind him of the fire that Silas held his face over more than once. Just close enough to hurt without melting his skin off.

His palms begin to tingle while Kara urges him forward. She’d have an easier time searching for the dog alone. He’s only holding her back.

She calls for the animal that’s gotten them into this mess, asking passersby if they’ve seen him, only to come up empty.

It’s not until she catches sight of something behind him and her eyes go wide that his stress skyrockets.

She yells a warning right as a hand grips his shoulder, triggering years of conditioned reflexes.

Whoever it is might have said something, but he must run on a different frequency, like a fucking dolphin.

Wade doesn’t hear a word until he’s already landed a punch to the unfortunate face of someone trying to greet him.

Everything is underwater again. The funny taste in the back of his throat reappears, and Kara’s voice gets further away as she offers an explanation on his behalf. It must work because his victim apologizes like they’re all caught in the Twilight Zone before wandering off.

“He just surprised you, it’s not your fault,” she’s offering absolution that he can’t accept.

“Need to go back. Not safe for anyone having me out here. It’s too soon.”

He belongs in that secluded house, in his secure little cave, where he can’t hurt anyone else. That’s where he has every intention of going until the dog barks in the distance and a tail disappears into the open door of the community pantry.

“Shit. We gotta go after him,” he sighs.

It’s not far. If they can grab him now, it’ll be easier than letting Kara resume the chase on her own.

The place is empty when they get there. There’s no one around to witness the disaster of a dog chasing his prey. Shelves lay toppled, and a trail of flour peppered with paw prints forms a path across the floor.

He whistles for the dog as Kara follows the obvious clue toward a basement entrance.

She nudges the cracked door open and slips inside, only to have it fall shut behind her.

He rushes forward and yanks at a knob that won’t turn.

At the moment, it’s only an annoyance and nothing more.

He pushes, and she pulls, but when the barrier refuses to budge, her words grow more panicked.

“Wade, get me out of here!” she begs, kicking at the wood.

“I’m fucking trying,” he yells back, throwing his weight against it with a curse. “What the hell is this thing made of?”

There may as well be a steel core in this unassuming door for how easily it keeps them apart.

When she begins to chatter in a litany of pleas he can’t quite understand, his worry shifts into overdrive.

The scratch of her nails in a frantic attempt to escape has his world tilting on its axis as they greedily feed off each other’s anxiety.

It flows through the door like a current with every distraught word and frustrated kick.

There’s got to be a key somewhere, but stopping to find it isn’t an option when they’re both caught in their own personal horror movie.

“Stand back,” he yells, grabbing a fire extinguisher from a far-off corner that he should have noticed before.

Three hits later, the door hinges rattle and break open, leaving the whole thing to slam open as it falls.

Distress has reduced Kara to the most basic of reactions. The first one she’s chosen is to retreat into herself. He finds her slumped on a step, the top of her shirt unbuttoned as if she’d been burning up, and one hand clawing at her throat.

“Hey, let’s get outta here,” he tries, crouching beside her.

She looks exhausted and defeated, resigned to her own fate.

It’s not even a basement down here, he realizes, tilting her chin up to face him with a curled thumb. There are only a few steps leading to an opening the size of a tiny closet holding excess canned food.

It’s a dark shoebox, small enough to make anyone question if they could survive it. Reminds him a lot of the space he spent years in.

“Hold on to me.” He slips an arm under her legs and one across her back to lift her out of the abyss.

Once in the safety of daylight again, she stands on her own two feet better than he expected, even if there’s a sway that has her leaning into his side.

“I didn’t think I was claustrophobic until right now,” she says. “Take me home?”

He does.

No dog follows them out, leaving their mission incomplete with nothing to show for it.

* * *

“We’ll find him,” Kara says stoically, while he rinses the blood from under her fingernails.

She did a decent amount of damage while caught in that crawl space. Splinters from the door stick under cracked, bleeding nails and raw skin. It’s proof of how desperate she was to escape that the first one slicing into her did nothing to stop her efforts.

“Don’t worry about the dog.” He holds her shaking palm in his, tweezering out shards of wood. She barely flinches. “We should get you to whatever doc they got here. Have them take a look at this.”

“No. I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

She snatches her hand back. “I’ll do it myself. You don’t have to.”

“Not what I meant,” he says gently, holding his hand out again until she places her own back where it belongs.

“I haven’t been stuck anywhere that small since before the turn. I don’t know why I reacted like that. It’s not like it was crawling with the dead. There was nothing down there.”

“How’d you get caught last time?”

Her lips form a thin line while he holds her hand under the bathroom faucet to wash away the last of the blood. “How do you think?”

It’s not a sassy statement, only matter of fact.

“He locked you up?”

“Only once. It was after they arrested you for hitting his friend. After…it was only once. Only for one night. I think he just didn’t want to look at me.”

He imagines her years ago, stuck in a small room trying to claw her way out.

She’d have been trembling then like she is now, complaining of the cold while shock heats her skin.

For him, somewhere small is safe. For her, it’s a gateway to a past she hasn’t fully put behind her and a reminder that their ghosts began haunting them long before half the population died.

“About earlier…” she begins.

“It was my fault. Won’t do it again. I promise I won’t.”

She shakes her head, eyes watering so quickly she had to have been suppressing it already. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I liked it. That’s the problem.”

“How’s that a problem?” It’s an innocent question. He’s so unsure of what this means or how to react. Isn’t equipped for any of this on his best day, but especially not now.

She doesn’t answer and he doesn’t push.

“I think I need to lie down for a while. Will you stay with me?” Her request is small and timid. He can’t agree fast enough.

It’s only mid-day but they’re both wrecked.

The adrenaline is fading, leaving them stuck in a weird limbo before the eventual crash.

She takes the lead toward the bed, encouraging him to slip under the covers with her.

When she turns her back to him, his heart drops until she follows up with a tentative request.

“Hold me?”

Oh. He can do that. He hums out an agreement and lets her tug his arm around her waist until he’s molded to her from behind.

It’s easier for him this way and he wishes it wasn’t.

He should be so far beyond that by now, but he tries to focus on the fact that he’s here at all. That has to be a victory in itself.

A delicate sigh of relief slips from her lungs when her curves slot into place against him.

“I only want you right here,” she half whispers, as if that makes sense. She’s jumping into the middle of a conversation without telling him the beginning. “I’m so sorry about before, I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“We’re okay now.”

“Are we?”

“Mhmm. Always gonna be.”

Her hair tickles his face and he can’t help but breathe her in, nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck.

Her shiver sends a jolt of desire south and there’s no chance she can’t feel him hardening against her ass.

Fear of losing her wars with the need to keep her close, leaving him frustrated and confused.

The telltale remnants of tears on her cheeks tell him he needs to get it together or risk offending her in a way they can’t come back from.

“I can move,” he offers.

“Do you want to move?”

“No.”

“Then don’t,” she answers, stunning him to his core.

She guides his hand under her shirt until his fingers brush the underside of a soft breast in a suggestion that leaves the rest up to him. He’s too busy having a heart attack to follow through.

Her skin is soft and supple, tempting him with what he’s only dreamed of. He lets his thumb caress the gentle swell of her, prepared with an apology she never asks for.

“We can,” she whispers. “If you want to, we can.”

If he wants to, she says, as if he’s wanted anything else for as long as he can remember. He could never be bold enough to initiate this himself. Not before he was taken and certainly not after, but he isn’t afraid either. Not like he thought he might be.

Kara is the only one he trusts enough to be this vulnerable, yet there is a barrier between them he can’t cross. Not yet. Not when he isn’t sure how his body might react to that kind of contact, or when he knows he can’t accept this comfort from her when it means far too much.

“I could never do that to you,” he replies sadly. “To us. Not like this. You deserve more.”

He needs her so badly it’s become a flame that threatens to burn him whole.

He’s gotten used to ignoring it for the most part, but that’s impossible now.

He wants to get lost in her until he’s forgotten every trauma, and the only thought in his head is how much he loves her.

Wants to take away every doubt she may have until she can feel nothing but him.

Later, he may regret passing up what could be his only chance to be with her.

Right now, all he can do is hope she won’t take it as a rejection.

He’s afraid to move until she turns in his arms a moment later, doing the work for him.

She hides her face in his chest and pushes a leg between his knees, burrowing into him.

“It feels like there isn’t much of me left,” she says, on a hitching, half-sob. “I only feel okay when I’m with you.”

She’s voicing his own thoughts while seeking solace in his arms.

This isn’t how he thought either of them would express even a hint of any hidden feelings. They’re both crying, and they haven’t even kissed yet. There’s no road map on how to move forward from here. He only hopes that he hasn’t ruined what they’ve built.