Page 125 of His to Burn
My heart did a ridiculous little flutter. Jack wasn’t free with praise—or affection—so when he gave it, even in his gruff way, it always meant something.
He didn’t say anything else, instead turning his attention back to our surroundings, taking a moment to check on the others. That flutter was joined by a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun beating down on me. This damn man. A few words, and I preened like a cat.
And even though my shins ached and my thighs were on fucking fire, I felt better than I had in days.
Still smiling, I looked up at our little ragtag group. Jack and I were stationed at the end of the line.
“Why aren’t you up front?”
I had meant to ask him before but every time, I’d been distracted.
“Better to be at the back and keep an eye out and be a buffer against anything that might come up on you—I mean the group,” he said.
He cleared his throat but didn’t speak again.
But he didn’t have to. I wouldn’t let myself think it meant anything, but I still reached out and squeezed his forearm.
He didn’t acknowledge me, but I didn’t need him to.
I looked ahead again.
Lourdes and Miles were a couple of feet in front of us, taking turns dragging a small wagon that had a few cans of food and a couple of gallons of water. Elliot and Bridget were in front of them. Caitlyn had gone way up, maybe a tenth of a mile or so.
Jack warned her to stay close once, but hadn’t given the admonition again. I hoped her ego wouldn’t get her killed, but knew I had bigger issues to worry about.
Myself.
The others.
Jack.
Whatever was going on with Caitlyn was at the very bottom of the list.
“You see that?” I asked.
“Yeah. House up ahead,” Jack said.
“We should check it out.”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded.
I knew he was thinking about the same thing as I was.
I still had my gun and he had his, but between us, we only had a couple dozen rounds. The others still carried their makeshift weapons, but I knew that if we found ourselves in a tough situation, we wouldn’t be able to get out of it.
A house like this might have something we could use.
Jack let out a low whistle, and the others stopped and looked at him. He gestured toward the house.
“Are we going over there?” Lourdes asked. She looked apprehensive, but even before all this, she was a bit of a worrier.
“It might have some things we need,” I said.
Miles, still effervescent and filled with youth, looked excited.
Sure, every moment was suffused withterror, but in truth, most of the time, I was bored out of my mind. I could only imagine how this was for a teenage boy. Even with the risk, he champed at the bit to go.
I smiled at him. I was so proud of Miles. Hoped he got a chance to become the man he seemed destined to be.
