Page 19 of Redemption
I smile.
Hero time.
Ever since I dated Alessandra, and enlisted in the military, I’ve learned there’s one thing that can always turn a frown upside down: food. Doesn’t matter what, as long as it’s edible and, in this case, sustainable and portable. In all the yearssince learning this simple fact of life, I’ve made sure to keep some version of it on me.
At. All. Times.
With a smirk, I dig into my pack and pull out a granola bar, handing it to her wordlessly. Her eyes are drawn to it immediately, the ravenous hunger visible in the way she licks her lips and subconsciously leans towards it. She hesitates for only a moment before quickly reaching her hand out and taking it. Within seconds, it's unwrapped and devoured, her little cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as she shoves huge chunks into her mouth.
Breathing heavily through her nose, she tentatively looks up at me from the floor, or rather, in my direction but notdirectlyat me, and mutters, “Thanks,” around a bite before standing and navigating herself out of the kitchen, absently pulling the stick out of her hair as she walks into the hallway.
Unable to let her out of my sight, I follow behind her, my steps silent as we make our way through the vacant house. Suddenly, she stops and turns abruptly, causing me to run right into her. She stumbles with a curse but I manage to reach out and catch her before she falls again. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, and it absolutely takes my breath away. In that moment, I forget everything once again. The years between us. Her hatred towards me. The apocalypse we’ve found ourselves survivors of. Nothing else matters besides the here and now. The way this woman is able to unknowingly be the one thing that turns me into a vulnerable mess. The way I want to touch her like I used to. The way my hands tighten on her as if she’s about to disappear. I can feel it, the urge to pull her in and start all over. To show her how much she means to me. My muscles bunch, doing just that when—
“No. Nope. Off.Off.” Her arms press against my chest and push me away, breaking our connection and all my hopes for reconciliation at the same time. She turns and stalks back into the foyer, her hands lifting to her hips as she continues to wander through the open space. She enters the living room and takes a look around, her shoulders rising with a deep inhale as she shakes her head.
Not wanting to push any more than I already have—and depressed enough at the immediate and continuous, yet aptly deserved, rejection—I remain in the kitchen, but still keep watch over her.
This... partnership.
This....
I wince. What we had... is lost. No matter how ecstatic I am that she’s alive and well and unharmed, no matter how much I want to pull her into my arms, apologize for being an absolute asshole, and hold her for the rest of my life and never let go, no matter how much I want to feel her lips pressed tightly against mine... it’s never going to happen again. Even when I meant well, all those years ago, I broke her heart, shattered it into a million pieces, and time, it seems, didn’t do anything to help mend those wounds, merely allowed them to fester in my absence.
It’s my own fault. I know that. Been living with the guilt of it for years. The aching regret... foryears. It’s no use, though. The incessant need to take it all back. It doesn’t matter how remorseful I may feel. How much I’ve wanted to kick my own ass over and over again throughout the years ever since I left her standing there in that cold and empty terminal. In the end, she hates me. Will probably always hate me. And I’m just going to have to learn to live with that.
She huffs out a breath and turns back in my direction, her arms still on her hips—an aggressive stance against me that instantly puts me on guard. “What should we do?” she asks, pacing the length of the room.
After referring to me as a ghost this entire time, I’m surprised she’s even asking for my opinion. I was happy to simply come with her on the journey and let her take the lead as she wanted. But now she’s asking me for advice. Making me a part of this.
Acknowledging me.
“There’s no food here,” she continues before I’m able to say anything. “If they did use them, we can’t follow them through the tunnels; there’d be no escape if they caught us.” She turns, pacing to the other side, shaking her head and occasionally peering off to the side with a frown before returning her gaze to the floor in front of her. “They took the motorcycles, so those aren’t an option. Maybe there’s a car—”
I lift my hand, intending to touch her shoulder and settle her overstimulated mind but restrain myself, lowering it back to my side when she notices the movement. “There isn’t one. A car, that is,” I interject.
Her eyes narrow skeptically at my statement. “And how do you know this? Did you check? There might be one stashed in a garage. There are plenty of houses on this road we can check. If we just—” She finally stops pacing, taking a stand in front of me when I cross my arms over my chest, pursing my lips to the side. “What?”
“May I speak?”
She lifts a hand and waves it around, returning to her relentless pacing. “Go ahead.”
“I just know. There aren’t any for miles.” She points her cynical gaze back at me, to which I simply lift my hands, palms facing out, begging her to listen to reason and trust the man she has no reason to. “Please... believe me when I tell you this. We’re going to have to walk back.”
“Ok. Fine. We’ll walk back. But,” she looks around, “we have no food. No water. No supplies. We’re going to have to—”
“GRRRRRRRRRRRR”
Both our backs straighten at the sound coming from the front door. We must not have closed it all the way after I kicked it open.
“Oh shit,” she gasps, her eyes widening as she palms her bat, lifting it in front of her with both hands.
While I’m thoroughly impressed at her courage and tenacity in the face of danger, I also don’t want her to be in the direct line of it. Especially when I’m here. With a slight nudge to her side, I reverse our positions, placing myself between her and the doorway to the living room. “Get behind me,” I say, and thankfully she listens without objection.
The sound comes again, just on the other side of the wall. Alessandra spins around, darting her eyes to the windows for a way out, but I have all we’re going to need right here. I lift my shirt and reach for the gun I have holstered beneath my belt, concealed on the inside of my pants.
“GRRRRRRRRRR”
The deep growls continue, getting closer and closer, echoing throughout the space as I raise my gun and aim towards the open doorway. A dark shadow creeps up the opposite wall, slowly stalking down the hallway.
