Page 4 of Redemption
For all I know, and against all of my hopes for a way out of this mess, they’re probably just as fucked as I am.
My eyelids flutter as I try my best to focus on staying awake, to force any muscle on my body to listen and fucking move for me so I can save them before it’s too late.
But it’s no use.
All I can think, as my eyes close one last time, is that even after all the hurt, all the heartache, all the training, all the months and days and hours and minutes I spent preparing to avoid this exact scenario, it didn’t matter in the end.
I still didn’t do enough to keep them safe.
Chapter Two
Hawk
I wake, well-rested with a loud yawn, to the early morning sun rising through the exposed window. A comfortable heaviness surrounds my waist, pinning me to the mattress. Groaning, I try to push it off, eager to start the day, only to be confined even further, the hard but warm body holding me down giving me no reprieve. The tightness of the blankets wrapped around us doesn’t help the matter either.
“Go back to sleep. Too early,” Cole protests quietly against my back, his nose nuzzling in the space between my shoulder blades. I tense, momentarily caught off guard by the intimate nature of our sleeping arrangements—not to mention the distinct hardness pressed against my back and my equally hard dick that’s apparently ready to go—but, after a second, I mentally brush the uncertainty off. We’d been cuddling like this long before I kissed him. The Uno Reverse card we delivered to Aly, after she subjected us to that bout of torturous voyeuristic edging the other day, simply brought other things out into the open.
And I couldn’t be happier about it.
I sigh contentedly, my eyes still closed as I wiggle my butt back against him, trying to find that cozy place I woke up in. “Come on, cuddle buddy, you can do better than that.”
At my taunt, he wraps his arm further across my chest, scooting closer with a grumble against the back of my neck. “Spoiled-ass fire chicken.”
My grin widens when I hear his snores resume. I throw my arm out in front of me, ruffling around in the blankets for even more cuddle participants, but notice something’s missing. Or rather ...a couple of someones.
“Where are Aly and Jax?” I ask, reaching my hand around and poking Cole in the ass until he wakes up again.
He grumbles at my second interruption but lifts his head in contemplation. His bedhead is gloriously wild, unruly red hair shooting this way and that, as he peeks around my shoulder, a single, half-opened eye taking in the empty space where Jax and Aly should be.
“Probably screwing around somewhere,” he mutters dismissively with a gravelly voice. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Jax is taking real good care of our girl. Always does. Now go back to sleep so we have enough energy later on to love her how she deserves and not like some limp-dicked cold cuts.”
“Ah, now that’s an insult. Good job, bro.” Resting my head on my bicep, I close my eyes again and settle into his warmth, fully prepared to sleep the day away if I’m able. That is...once my fucking dick decides to calm the fuck down and stops thinking about Jax railing the hell out of Aly right now.
Son of a bitch. That just made it worse....
The sound of footsteps trailing up the stairway just outside the door causes my ears to perk up. My heart immediately begins to race, my cock twitching in giddy anticipation of what’s to come.
Aly’s back!
Our girl.
Correction. Ourwoman.
The tantalizingly gorgeous sweetheart she is.
I still can’t believe it. Who not only survives a zombie apocalypse but also finds the love of his life alongside his best friends? I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a lucky man. We all are. Now that we finally made it to Tryon Palace—the final destination on our road trip through Hell—I can’t wait to make good on all those promises I made back at Jax’s old estate. It’s time to start living life to its fullest.
Starting with christening every fucking inch of this place twice over.
I blindly reach my hand out as the door opens, silently beckoning my sweetheart and Jax to return to the bed. When she doesn’t immediately leap into my arms, I throw out some grabby hands to entice her to join me. They usually do the trick, but this time... nothing.
“Would ya look at this, Rake? Got ourselves a two-for-one special.”
My eyes fly open at the unfamiliar voice to the sight of two gigantic assholes waving guns around. I leap across the bed—cursing myself and the four mattresses I need to crawl over in order to get to the other side—at the same time Cole turns, equally alert as he falls over his side, both of us aiming for our own weapons. Just as my fingertips graze the metal of my pistol on the side table, a sharp pain hits me, my back arching at the invasive sting just below my shoulder blade. “Fuck!”
One quick, soft shot meant for Cole sounds barely a breath later. I turn to take in the damage and see his shoulders lift and lower as he breathes through the pain, but it doesn’tdeter him. What does, however, is the fact that the guy still aiming a gun at Cole is currently blocking the rifle he placed against the wall.
With no weapon and no other options, Cole tackles the guy, his shoulder ramming into the man’s midsection to try and disarm him or throw him off guard. Unfortunately, this guy has about a hundred pounds of bulk and at least a foot of height against Cole’s leaner, more streamlined form. The size difference doesn’t allow the maneuver to be as successful as we hoped it would be, but to counter, Cole widens his stance, securing his base as he throws punch after punch into the man’s back and sides.
