Page 40

He’s never been happier in his life.

There are no distractions, battles, or problems needing solved. Wade has unrestricted access to his favorite person. It’s just them. Together. Alone.

It’s his own version of utopia, only magnified after having gone years without her.

He tries not to think about his time in captivity anymore.

It’s difficult not to dwell on it, but he is here to move forward, not look back.

He may not always be successful in shutting out the past, but he is trying.

Sometimes it’s hard to ignore just how much he missed her back then when he’s given such a bounty of quality time now.

Kara seems happy, too, even bolder somehow, like the depressing blanket cast over them has been lifted.

She has always been the wild card between them, but her spirit has been muted.

He’s only grateful to see it making a return when she shocked the shit out of him and jumped into that lake, making him blush ten shades of red.

He likes this version of her. It gives them both a shove into what their life could be like if the world hadn’t tried its hardest to beat them both down.

Now, Kara’s right where she belongs, curled around him as they speed down a dirt road, leaving nearly two states behind in record time. Not much to see yet and no sign of life, so they push on.

Avoiding the freeway is always a good bet. The lesser-traveled paths hold secrets waiting to be found, like the run-down old barn they roll up to at a roadside.

The tattered wooden sign says it’s some kinda retreat.

Self-help. Self-improvement. They both need years of therapy and then some, but they won’t be getting it here.

When Kara suggests they stop to check out the cabins for supplies, he pulls up the gravel drive, hoping they’ll find more than dust and cobwebs.

The first cabin holds no threat and nothing useful.

Not even sure what they could hope to find anymore.

It’s an excuse to stretch their legs all the same and, in an odd way, he likes it.

They were slowly domesticating at the last community, with its high walls and solar panels.

There’s a strange sort of thrill at being out in the open again, fending for themselves and searching for treasures.

One he didn’t expect to feel after being so damn afraid to leave the prison of his cell, or the seclusion of the blue house.

There’s still a bit of anxiety in the unknown, but freedom is just as enticing.

“So this is the kind of self-help they did,” she muses, holding up a purple vibrator found in a cabinet next to a dusty bed.

It’s gotta be the biggest dick shaped thing he’s ever seen, flopping obscenely when she tosses it onto the mattress with a smirk. There is no shortage of others to be found in various shapes and sizes around the space.

“Some kinda sex place?” he grimaces, trying not to imagine a bunch of strangers having orgies right where they’re standing.

She laughs at the perplexed expression written all over his face. “Maybe. I was assuming yoga or meditation, but hey, whatever works. Don’t act so shocked. You’ve had your fair share of…experiences in your younger days, Wade.”

“Drunken one-night stands and sucking shots out of someone’s belly button ain’t the same thing. Gonna try real hard not to think about what went down in here.”

“Oh, I’m sure there was a lot of that, too.”

“ Fuck. Stop. ”

“Want me to find you some pearls to clutch?”

He rolls his eyes at the tease she’s clearly proud of. “Not the sex part I got a problem with, it’s the multiple strangers at once part. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age, but I’m starting to think it should be spec—”

He trails off before he can utter something idiotic, growing more uncomfortable by the second. ‘Should be special.’ What does he know anyway? He’s the last person to judge anyone for their choices.

One thing he does appreciate, though, is that she isn’t treating him like he’s made of glass when it comes to these conversations.

She’s treating him like she always used to instead, and there’s a relief in that.

He might curl up and melt into the ground if he thought she was tiptoeing around him because of what he’s been through.

That sassy purse of her lips goes soft, and her reply is surprisingly sincere. “You’re right. It should be special.”

Thankfully, he finds something even more unexpected to distract them from a room full of dildos. “Looks like they were into other recreational activities, too.”

She gives him a confused glance until he holds up a bag filled with weed.

“Oh my god. Is there more?”

He snorts. “I didn’t expect the one bag.”

She frowns when he tosses it back into a drawer. “You’re not gonna take it?”

“Want me to?”

Her head tilts like he’s asking the dumbest question she’s ever heard. “Yes.”

He’s done his fair share of weed back in the day. They both have. Sometimes together. It might be fun to take a trip down memory lane with a few hits. It would definitely take the edge off, and he’s full of hard edges lately.

Wade’s not quite sure he’s ready to be high with her yet, though.

Too many things could go wrong, like him running his mouth when he shouldn’t.

He’s a talker when he’s got some weed in him.

But he wants to make her happy and wouldn’t mind feeling that buzz again, so he tucks it into his pocket before they continue rummaging for odds and ends.

They find coveted items like paper towels and toilet paper still in their wrappers in the other cabins. A few cans of food that expired long ago but probably won’t kill them, and a bag of brand-new socks that fit her small feet. Not a bad haul.

They’re riding the high of success until they reach the pavilion down a short wooded trail and get more insight into what type of retreat this was.

“What the fuck?” he whispers.

“A cult?”

Not much else ends in rows of decomposed bodies, perfectly lined up with head wounds.

“Can you imagine being that deep in someone else’s bullshit you let ‘em do this? They didn’t even fight. Just laid there and took it.”

“I can imagine it. We’ve seen it with Silas and his men. They were just as brainwashed. Wouldn’t have taken much to go a little further and end up like this.”

She ain’t wrong there. He’s just never seen the end result laid out so plainly before. A shiver runs up his spine as the silence turns creepy.

“At least they knew to get the brain,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Maybe it was easier this way. They didn’t suffer through everything that came after.”

He doesn’t like how that sounds. She’s always had reckless moments, but never overtly offered a hint that she’d consider opting out to be easier. Especially not after her father made that choice and left her alone in the foster system.

The end of the world seems to have shifted her opinion a fraction.

Now isn’t the time to talk about it. Unlike the other ghosts he’s afraid to bring up, this time, he promises himself he’ll address it again.

Eventually. For now, she’s safe with him and doesn’t appear to have any desire to leave.

It can wait, but if they can’t talk about anything truly important, then what are they even doing out here?

He needs to start honing his skills at pushing just a little bit. After all, he has a captive audience.

* * *

There’s a sign for a canopy lodge a couple of hours down the road.

They’ve got no idea what that is, but they’re taking the long way and he’s ready to find out.

Everything is exciting now. He wants to explore and discover because he can share that with her.

Kara seems just as eager to take every detour they come across, as if trying her best to delay this trip as long as possible.

They haven’t discussed what they’ll actually do once they get to Arizona. Probably should have laid out plans and gotten their ducks in a row. The concept was all they needed before hitting the road, and now they’re making it up as they go.

“ We can do whatever you want once we get there,” he wants to tell her. “Find a house in the desert and live there until we’re old or get back on the bike and see the rest of the country. None of this has to end.”

He absolutely does not say that because it’s just about the neediest thing he’s ever thought in his head. May as well beg her to stay with him forever in plain English, get down on one knee and propose with a paper ring.

A cluster of tree houses high above the forest floor, connected by a series of bridges, greets them when he pulls the bike up.

“If this isn’t the best apocalypse hideout, I dunno what is.” He points to a clear pond a few feet away. “Even got a water source.”

“It’s so pretty. Like something out of a fairy tale.”

It looks abandoned, but they’re still careful. A place like this might be taken already. Just because they aren’t greeted at the door doesn’t mean it’s not.

Quickly, they gather water in their filtered bottles, a perk of having been outfitted so well after looting a camping store earlier. Then, it’s up a rope ladder to the first swinging bridge.

Kara pales when the lack of maintenance and exposure to the elements culminates in a swaying, rocking groan under their feet.

He’s not a fan either, keeps waiting for the ropes to snap, but eventually they make it across.

She looks less like she’s about to lose her lunch once they’re on solid ground again.

He guzzles a few swallows of the water he just collected, taking the lead inside with his weapon ready, only to find nothing and no one. The next two are the same, and it soon becomes clear that this place wasn’t high on anyone’s list for a hideout. It’s been sitting here just waiting for them.

“I could get used to this.” She bounces lightly on the edge of the bed in the cabin they’ve chosen.

Something about that does things to him .

Seeing her like this, carefree and happy, he wonders how she’d look bouncing on that mattress in other ways.

Has to make an effort not to think about that too hard, or he’ll be in the same situation he was at the lake.

He never peeked, not even once, but there’s a reason he let her get out of the water first. He needed the extra time to recover.

Wade may have told her that he loves her, but that is not the same as admitting he wants more from her, and they seem to have stalled when it comes to any progress in that area. He is not as brave anymore as he was when he wrote that note.

They’ll be sharing a bedroom tonight. It’s always safer to stick together on the road. He’s not letting her out of his sight now that he’s got her.

“Are you okay? You look like I did out on the bridge,” she asks curiously.

He winces as his stomach flips. “Mhmm. Fine.”

It’s the truth until it’s not. Ten minutes later, he’s retching over the edge of the balcony.

Every roll of his stomach contracts so hard he’s certain the whole thing will come up his throat.

Eventually, the will to stand fails, and he slumps down, sticking his head between the wide railing to vomit onto the forest floor.

At first, he doesn’t want her near him. He’s embarrassed and hurting, doesn’t want her seeing him like this. He’s never been the type to want attention when miserable.

Wade is used to handling his pain alone.

She sticks close but doesn’t touch until his efforts have him trembling, and her gentle hand lands on his back, soft and still.

Must have spent at least half an hour trying to throw up his insides before the dry heaving stops and he slumps, nearly delirious.

He’s pliable and easily moved, letting her guide him until his head rests in her lap where she sits up against the outer wall.

Slow fingers sift through his hair, brushing it back off his face and eliciting a tingle across his scalp. “Something you ate?”

“Something I drank. I think my filter is broken,” he grunts, eyes fluttering closed as she strokes from his shoulder to elbow and up again.

He’s still relishing being this close to her. Despite feeling like death warmed over, he’d go through this a hundred times if it meant he’d end up here, pillowed on her thighs.

“We’ll use mine from now on. It’ll pass. Deep breaths.”

“I got sick like this once in the cell,” he says absently, not having enough sense anymore to curb it. “Was the worst day. Thought it would never stop.”

“When?”

“A few years ago maybe. I was so fucking sick. Dunno what did it. Bad rabbit meat, or maybe they did it on purpose.”

She sighs. “Last time it happened to me was that Christmas Eve dinner we had at the hibachi place. Remember?”

He huffs. “You barely made it out of the restaurant. It had to have been the rice.”

They have spent almost every holiday together when he wasn’t relocated across the country by the army. Thanksgiving at some dive bar, laughing over hot wings, and Christmas eating fried rice out of the carton in her apartment. That particular holiday saw fit to send her food poisoning.

“I’ve missed spending those days with you,” he says quietly. “Aside from the getting sick part.”

“I have, too. I don’t even know what day it is anymore, but let’s just assume we’re spending the holidays together again.”

He nuzzles his cheek against her thigh, wrapping an arm around her knees. “Glad you’re here now. I don’t feel as shit as I would if I were by myself.”

“I haven’t done anything to help,” she says, sadly.

“Yeah, you have.”

She’s done more than she knows. He wished for this back in the cell while he was curled up on the floor more times than he can count. She feels like home to him, and that makes even the worst moments bearable.

“Why Arizona? You never really said, other than that hike you want to try out.”

“I saw a commercial for it a long time ago. One of the few things I never forgot.”

“Come on.” She nudges him like he’s teasing. “Really.”

“Nah, really. Arizona, get lost while finding yourself . Cheesy slogan, but it looked so…different from anything I’d ever seen. Like the perfect place to get lost and start over.”

“Is that what we’re doing out here? Starting over?”

“I hope so. I want to.”

“Me too.”