Chapter 19 #2
Chase blows air out through his nose. “He actually was the one who told me to go.”
And that’s all I need to hear to know exactly how he got his hands on an antidote.
The sun is slowly peeking over the horizon as I wake up to find myself nose to nose with Chase. There are barely more than a couple of inches separating us; with each snuffle, I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin.
I must have rolled over during my fitful sleep. I know I passed out with my back to him once we finally found a small park that Maverick trusted enough to set up camp. He stayed on one side of the fire. Thanks to the handcuffs, I had no choice but to settle down with Chase.
We started the night flat on our backs. I unzipped the sleeping bag so that we both had something kind of soft to lie down on.
Though it would’ve been more comfortable to scoot together and release the tension in the metal links on the handcuffs’ chain, I refused.
The alternative was staring into his face and having him stare back, not knowing if he’s seeing me or Hallie. I couldn’t do it.
And, yet, as I wake up, that’s exactly what happened.
Damn it. Why does he have to be so attractive?
The pull toward Chase only gets worse when he wakes up, smiling as he realizes that I’m right there with him. As if I can go anywhere else. Handcuffs, remember? We’re trapped, and it’s another awful reminder when we both have to take care of business that privacy… yeah. We don’t have any.
Having to squat on the grass after Chase helped me unzip my jeans is my last straw.
I already had to do it once last night. The second time is even more awkward, especially when I have to turn back and not sneak a peek when he pulls out his dick so he can take a leak.
Eventually one of us will have to take a shit and I’d rather gnaw off my wrist than deal with that while attached to Chase.
I wait until we make it to another neighborhood before I say, “I don’t sense any lurkers here. Maybe it’s time we do a little scavenging.”
Chase’s face screws up. “Sense? Since when can you sense the lurkers? That was—”
I cut him off before he has to say her name. “Once I left the Grave,” I answer him. “It didn’t start until we were on the Outside.”
“Really? Damn. That didn’t happen to me. Do you know how much easier it would’ve made coming after you if I could tell where the lurkers were? Because, let me tell you, I had to guess and, uh, I didn’t always guess right.”
My heart stops. “You had run-ins with lurkers?”
“Well, yeah. They’ve pretty much taken over. Half the neighborhoods have those assholes lurking wherever they can find a dark spot.”
Don’t I know it. “But you’re okay?”
A small shrug, and the return of his crooked grin. “I know how to take out a lurker.”
“With your bare hands?” I arch my eyebrow. “I know you’re good, Chase. I didn’t think you were that good.”
He laughs. “Nah. I had supplies. Handing them over to that goon in East Jersey is what bought my way in. Luckily, I smuggled my antidote in my underwear… and, not surprisingly, that Darryl guy didn’t think to check… but everything else, I gave up.”
I seize on that. Not the smuggling his antidote in his boxer briefs—and, yes, I know what kind of underwear Chase wears now even though I shouldn’t—but that he needs some supplies of his own.
“And that’s exactly why we need to do some scavenging. Mav, you saved our packs, but we need shit for Chase. What do you say? Let’s start going through these houses.”
Maverick sees through my concerns at once. “And maybe we can find some way to cut those cuffs off, too.”
I widen my eyes as though the thought had never crossed my mind. “It couldn’t hurt.”
It takes four houses to find a pair of wire cutters.
They’re not strong enough to cut through the thick metal of the actual cuff easily, but with a lot of groaning and a few muttered curses, Maverick finally manages to snap the chain that keeps me connected to Chase.
As soon as I’m free, I take a few hurried steps away. I’ve never appreciated my personal space so much before, and if he frowns with disappointment to see how eager I am to put distance between us… I pretend not to notice.
Instead, I fiddle with the silver bracelet still locked around my wrist. “I guess this is good enough. Who knows? Maybe we’ll start a fashion trend when we get back to the Grave.”
My flippant comment—or maybe the idea that I’ll be home again with him sooner or later—has Chase quirking his lips upward. He lifts his hand, twisting his matching bracelet. “We always were trendsetters back in high school.”
Um. No. That would be Chase and Hallie who were the most popular kids when we were in Madison High. Football player and cheerleader. Both in honors classes. Prom king and queen. I was the third wheel until I found my own thing, making my own way.
I struggle to match his grin. “They won’t have to know we got stuck in a prison town. We can blame Mav. He’s a former cop.”
“You were on the job?” Chase asks, surprise in the question.
Maverick matches it. “Yeah. You know about it?”
Chase shrugs. “My uncle was a DT in Madison. Had another one who drove around in a patrol car in Woodbridge. Grandpa, too. Made it to lieutenant before he retired.”
“A family of cops,” Maverick marvels, nodding. “I knew there was something about you I liked. Didn’t enroll in the academy yourself?”
“Nah. My girlfriend pushed me to follow my own passions. Help people my own way.” A wistful expression twists his handsome features and I know he’s thinking of Hallie again. “I was getting my Master’s in social work when the world ended.”
And Hallie was taking nighttime classes in psychiatry while spending her mornings working at the local bagel shop to save up cash for her future with Chase…
Maverick nods in approval. “Would’ve made a fine officer, though. You ever handle a gun?”
“Yeah.” A dark look flashes over his face. “Used plenty on New Year’s.”
After Chase dropped Hallie off, he went home to discover his family was just as lost. In the Knight home, there was a gun safe, and Chase used it until he ran out of ammo.
Like the rest of us, he doesn’t like to dwell on the past. I don’t want him here, but I don’t want Mav to poke and prod and ask painful questions, either.
“Maybe we should start moving on again—”
“Wait. Your hands are free now. I don’t have a gun… a spare gun,” Maverick corrects when he sees the glare I can’t quite hide, “but this might help.”
He removes his backpack. Opening the front pouch, he digs around the inside of it. A few moments later, he pulls out a brown leather holster with something black stowed inside of it. It looks suspicious like a gun, only much thicker and fatter.
“Here. Put this on. If you ever need to disarm a rogue, it should help.”
Chase accepts it from Maverick. “What is this?”
“A taser.”
Whoa. “Really?”
Maverick nods. “I don’t know if Darryl had any handguns in East Jersey. Probably not.” Which would explain his hard-on to get Mav’s during the auction. “But they did have tasers. The COs at the prison carried these instead of firearms. Chloe knew where to find one. She snuck it to me.”
From a distance, it would look like a gun. Up close, it’s obvious it isn’t. Still, if Chase can get off a shot, tasing a threat, he can take a rogue down if necessary without having to kill them.
I don’t ask why he’s giving it to Chase. It’s easy to blame it on misogyny, but even I’d admit that putting a taser in my hand isn’t the best idea. I have my pocketknife and my matches, and I’m happy with that.
Chase gets to work on putting the chest holster on while I think about what Maverick said.
Chloe…
“Why would she risk Darryl’s temper by sneaking you a taser?”
For a second, I’m sure Maverick isn’t going to answer me. And then, with a sigh, he says, “Because she’s family.”
Excuse me?
Maverick thins his lips. “Cousin. That’s how I found my way to East Jersey the first time.
I was heading toward that part of New Jersey to check on Chloe and her family a month or two after the Turning.
The prison had already overthrown her city, renaming it East Jersey under Darryl’s rule.
Her husband was dead. Tim was dead. And she was married to Darryl now. ”
Suddenly, it all makes a lot more sense.
How Darryl was pulled away, distracted by one of his wives, giving Chase and me and Maverick a few moments to talk before he came up to the room.
How Maverick was able to sneak through the house to blow away the back of his head, and we fled, finding our packs and gear waiting for us in the living room.
Chloe did it.
She helped save us.
And how did Maverick repay her? By leaving her behind.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I explode. “Why didn’t you bring her with us?”
“Why would I?”
How can he act so stunned that I would ask that? “Her so-called husband is dead. Won’t they realize she was in on it?”
“In on it?” Mav’s eyes widen. “Oh. Shit. You don’t know.
Chloe… she wanted him to die. I could’ve disarmed Darryl with the taser, but she knew that only way she could get out of her marriage was if he was dead.
There’s this other guy… Tony… she wants to marry him.
Be his wife. She loves him, but if Darryl knew about the affair, then—”
I understand. “Lurker food.”
“Exactly.”
My mouth flounders for a moment. “That sucks. Divorce used to be a thing. Now it really is ‘til death do you part.”
Chase’s newly freed hand lands on my shoulder. “I hope you don’t take the easy way out when we get married, baby.”
Baby.
My chest heaves. I spin so fast, I knock his hand off of me.
“Go back, Chase.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take the taser. Protect yourself.” Leave me alone. “But you’re going back to the Grave tonight.”
“Why? Besides, I’ll just track you like I did before. I’m the best tracker in the Grave, and you know I can do it, Ha—”
See? Again!
“That! That’s why!” The words burst out of me, louder than I intended. “I’m not your ‘baby’. I’m not your future wife. Damn it, Chase, I’m not Hallie!”
The same sad, sorry expression flitters over Chase’s face. There and gone again just as fast, he gets his features under control as he fists his hand, pulling away from me.
“Xandra,” he says, and I’m not sure who he is reassuring with that name: him or me. “I know…” His voice is soft, soothing. “I know. You’re Alexandra Holden.”
My chest is still heaving, but when I say, “Yeah,” it’s no longer a shout.
And I swear, if he calls me by my twin’s name one more time, I don’t give a shit if he goes back to the Grave or not.
But I sure as hell won’t spend another minute around him.