Page 34 of The Dire Legacy

Would he sell me back to the Institute? Or, better yet, would he help me hide from them?

He’s so frustrating. One big, hunky, mystery.

Some of the shows I grew up watching on TV had a woman getting secrets from men in bed. Maybe if I slept with him, he’d protect me.

I’ve almost bedded loads of guys, until I tried to stab them for their keys.

A little wormy labrat jerk even came in my hand once before I could get his lanyard.

He was so embarrassed he ran and left me with a sticky hand and no escape route.

When the wagon tops the hill overlooking the lake, I get a true look at the expanse of wilderness we’re in.

Trees. Miles of them.

Freedom. I can run in any direction if I want to.

Where would I go? Anywhere with people is a bad idea. One small slip and my abilities are discovered. I’ll be back on a plane in no time.

A wide open world and my eyes keep zeroing in on the tight jeans and flexing ass directly in front of me.

Try it. You’ll like it.The fluttery feeling in my belly needs to shut up. It’s obvious this guy has some issues.

He’s a new game. A different challenge.

I won the escape battle. But, to win the war, I need an ally.

And, I really,really,want to touch that butt.

Chapter 13

Michael

She hasn’t talked much since this morning when she ripped open old wounds with her questions. I wonder if she realized she was digging into a festering abscess.

It hurts too much to dwell on it. I’m not ready to share with a stranger who I am or what I’ve done.

But, when I do glance her way, she wears a beaming smile that lightens my step. Mainly, she just asks about the different trees and plants like she’s on a wilderness hike on vacation.

As the morning dew burns from the pines and the chill of the morning fades into the heat of midday, my coffee wears off and makes my stomach rumble.

We still have a couple of days of walking. No sense in killing ourselves.

The body parts in the wagon have filled up any sitting room. Despite the fact that the pups have no issue with sleeping on the rotting limbs doesn’t mean I want to. Hope made it very clear bythe wrinkle in her nose when I asked that she has no interest in it either.

She was cute with her face all scrunched up.

Fuck, she still is. Whatever material the scrubs are that she’s wearing doesn’t offer much wiggle room. It hugs her lithe body like a second skin.

She flits around like a wood elf in and out of the timber, or a child seeing the world for the first time.

Where the hell was she that all of this is so new to her?

Part of me wants to know. A bigger portion wants to keep her at arm’s length and find a safe place to leave her.

I’m too dangerous to be around, and being with the pack means that every human we encounter is a potential enemy.

Her giggles break through my sour thoughts. One of the pups is chasing her in a lazy game of tag.

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