Page 54

The ride back to Summerhurst was silent, and though John appeared calm, I knew better. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, and tension emanated from him in waves.

I leaned back against the worn leather seat, staring out the window blankly.

I felt as though something precious inside of me had been shattered.

I’d been adapting to Valley life so well until tonight, and although I knew that full acceptance was still some way off, it seemed like I was making significant progress…

enough that I’d allowed myself to feel secure.

Remembering what I’d told John just a few nights ago brought tears of shame to my eyes.

I’d been so unbelievably na?ve. Still, even now, more than a year after leaving the Cave, I was too stupid to understand the reality that being in the Wasteland meant I’d never be safe.

Between the Order and the Jamesons, even the safest place in the Wasteland wasn’t safe for me .

I’d been so foolish to ever let my guard down for even a moment.

I swallowed against the bitter taste in my mouth. In some strange way, it was probably karmic justice that I was getting a taste of my own medicine from the Wastelanders I’d once feared and scorned. I was now the outsider in a world I wasn’t built to survive in.

Once we were home, things were a blur. John told me he was going to lock up, and I nodded absently, feeling numb, before heading to our room. I felt oddly itchy, as though I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. I headed into the ensuite bathroom.

I turned on the shower and waited until the water was almost scalding.

The heat was a relief. I scrubbed away the mysterious itch until my skin was red and angry-looking.

I dried and changed into a heavy nightgown before getting into bed.

I huddled under the covers, feeling chilled somehow despite nearly cooking myself.

John came in a few minutes later, stopping next to the bed with a glass of amber liquid in each hand.

“Here,” he said softly, holding one out to me. “Thought you could use a drink.”

I sat up slowly and took it. He lowered himself onto the bedside next to me and took a slow sip from his glass. I copied him, the whiskey burning my throat all the way down and igniting warmth in my belly.

We sat there for what seemed like a long time, silently sipping. Despite how wretched I felt, it was nice. Comfortable, the way it always was with John. His presence alone was always a balm on whatever ailed me.

When our glasses were empty, I lay back against the pillow. Drinking often made me sleepy, but right now, I felt like I may never sleep again .

“I know it’s hard,” John finally said, breaking the silence, “but I need to know if Zach made any specific threats. We need to be prepared.”

I sighed. My tongue felt fuzzy, and it took me a moment to reply.

“He alluded to raping and strangling me. Then he promised that I’ll never be safe here and told me to get out while I still can.”

I let out a long breath. “I think he was just trying to scare me. This time, anyway.”

“ This time?” John repeated, his brow crinkling. “There won’t be a next time. I won’t allow it.”

I snorted. “And just how do you plan to do that? You can’t be there 24/7, Wastelander.”

“Watch me,” he said defiantly. “From now on, you won’t be leaving my sight.”

“How is that going to work?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You have outrider duties, and I have a class full of students to go to four days a week.”

He frowned. “You can’t seriously plan to go back to school after this?”

“Of course I am,” I replied, anger rising in my chest. “Those kids need an education, and it’s my job. I’m not going to let a petty rich boy with a powerful father ruin this for me, or for the kids that need me.”

John paced the room. “This isn’t about some stupid grudge anymore. This is about your safety , for fuck’s sake. I can’t let you—”

“You’re not ‘letting’ me do anything,” I shot back. “I’m telling you my decision. This is the first thing that’s made me feel like I really belong here, John. I feel useful for the first time since I left the Cave. I feel wanted. How can you want to take that away from me?”

He stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “I’m trying to keep you safe. It’s either that, or I shoot him.”

“We both know that’s not an option,” I said wearily.

“Look, this is what he wants! He wants me to hide away and be marginalized, like I was before. You were the one who told me I had to not care about a few bad apples. Being a teacher isn’t just good for me; it’s making everyone else change their minds about outsiders.

Why else would he threaten me now? It’s because it’s working, and he sees it as a threat, just like you said. ”

John stared at me, amber eyes burning. “You don’t get it. I don’t give a shit if you’re finding the cure for all disease if it means I have to bury you, Claire. The world could be on fire, and I’d let it burn if it meant saving you. I know it’s selfish…and I don’t care.”

His voice broke on the last word, and it stripped away the anger and frustration to reveal the truth: he was terrified. His posture was tense and rigid, but there was intense vulnerability in his eyes. Every second you’re in danger is agony.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, then moved to take his face in my hands. He flinched at my touch, but then sighed and leaned into it. It seemed to soothe him, the way his touch did for me in times of distress, and I was glad.

“I understand,” I said gently. “It’s scary. But there has to be a way to keep me safe and not lose the progress we’ve made. Can’t we at least try to come up with a plan?”

John followed my lead and took a deep breath before replying.

I could practically see the wheels in his head begin to turn.

He reached up and took my hands in his, then rattled off a list of security measures: he’d keep driving me to and from every class; I shouldn’t answer the door for anyone but him, Kimmy, or Asha; I had to carry my pistol at all times.

He shifted, as if knowing I wouldn’t like what he had to say next.

“And finally, in the morning, I’m going to officially report this to Danny.”

Memories from the woodshed fire came rushing back. Reporting it hadn’t helped; if anything, it’d made everyone more suspicious and more convinced of my incompetence. I didn’t want to make an accusation that would just backfire and make me look like a troublemaker.

“But—”

“It’s not just about you,” John interjected. “He made a direct threat, and I’m an outrider. Just like it’s your job to go into a classroom and teach even when some asshole might kill you, it’s my job to report threats to my Chief.”

I sighed. “Okay. I get it.”

“Good. Let’s get some rest.”