Chapter 9
NINE
DAKOTA
The spiral staircase to the bell tower creaks under my weight, each step echoing as cold air whistles through the cracks in the stone, raising goosebumps on my arms. The air smells cleaner here, less like blood and rot and more like old wood and forgotten spaces.
I heard voices.
Not groans.
Human voices.
Different. Distant but clear. Coming from outside.
When I was in the bathroom earlier, I could have sworn I heard something that wasn’t Cameron’s or Julian’s, but the downstairs windows revealed nothing.
The wooden steps groan louder as I reach the landing.
It’s a small octagonal room with arched openings on all sides and a railing in the middle surrounding a massive bronze bell suspended from wooden beams, the rope hanging limp in the center, its purpose forgotten in this new world where ringing bells would only invite death.
My steps slow as I approach one of the arches.
The world beyond the church spreads out in all directions. The barn down the street. Abandoned cars everywhere. The gate that Julien and Cameron secured yesterday stands closed, and the car still blocks it from the outside.
From up here, it almost looks normal. Almost. Until you notice the stillness. The absence of movement except for the occasional shambling figure in the distance.
I try the opposite arch facing the graveyard and garden of the church. But no movement. No people. Did I imagine it?
I inch closer to the edge, bracing one hand against the rough stone wall. Maybe around the corner of the building? I scan the ground below. Nothing unusual.
But I heard voices. I know I did.
Silence.
Nothing.
I lean out further, trying to see the back of the church property. Maybe there are survivors. Maybe we’re not alone in this nightmare.
The ground seems to tilt beneath me. Suddenly, I’m aware of the height and the dizzying drop that would shatter every bone in my body. My stomach lurches. I haven’t been afraid of heights since I was a child, but the emptiness below…
How easy it would be to—
Strong arms clamp around my waist, yanking me backward. I gasp as I’m swept against a hard chest, my feet leaving the ground momentarily before we’re sent crashing down together. But instead of the fatal plummet I expect, I hit the floor with a thud, my body cushioned by a solid frame.
For a second, we just breathe, chests heaving in unison.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Julien’s voice vibrates through his chest against my back, his legs splayed with me between them.
“Looking outside.” I try to break away. “Let go.”
“Looking? That’s what you call it?”
“Yes, looking. What else would I—”
“Don’t.” The word comes out like it’s been torn from his throat. “Don’t you dare.”
I twist, trying to see his face, but he holds me rigidly in place. “Don’t what?”
“Jump.” His breath is hot against my ear. “Whatever’s going on, whatever you’re feeling—This isn’t the answer.”
My body goes still. “What? No. I wasn’t—”
His arms are steel bands, crushing me against him. “You were halfway out that window.”
“I thought I heard voices. I wanted to check if I might see anyone.”
“So you decided to climb to the highest point in the church, alone, without telling anyone?”
“I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if it was nothing.”
“And was it? Nothing?”
I exhale, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t see anything.”
“So you decided to throw yourself off instead?”
Anger flares inside me, hot and sudden. “I wasn’t going to jump, you asshole. I was looking.”
“You swear?” His voice is rough, erupting another kind of goosebumps on my skin.
“Why would I lie?”
“That’s not an answer.”
I sigh, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. “Yes, I swear. I wasn’t trying to jump. Happy now?”
His arms relax marginally, but don’t release me. “Do you have any idea what finding you like that looked like from my perspective? Fuck, Dakota, you could have fallen.”
What would it look like? Me, leaning out over a fatal drop after everything that’s happened? My ruined wedding, my sister’s illness, the end of the world.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t thinking about how it might look.”
“Clearly.”
“Why do you even care? You hate me.”
Every muscle in his body goes rigid against mine. I expect him to shove me away, to stand up and leave me there with some cutting remark. Instead, his chest rises and falls.
One breath. Two.
Three.
“I don’t hate you,” he says, the words tickling the shell of my ear. “I don’t even know you.”
“You hate my father.”
“Yes.” No hesitation there. “And your mother. But that’s not you.”
“Isn’t it?” I twist again, trying to face him. “I’m their daughter.”
“Stop squirming.” His arm tightens.
“Then let me up.”
“Only if you promise not to do that again.”
“I told you I wasn’t—”
“Promise me.”
The desperate edge beneath the command gives me pause. Like it matters to him. Like I might matter.
“I promise,” I whisper. “Now will you let me go?”
“Not yet.”
“What the hell?” I squirm, trying to remove his arms. “You said—”
“Dakota.” It’s the first time he’s said my name without sounding like he wants to spit it out. Progress, I guess. “Stop moving.”
I huff in frustration and try to wriggle free. That’s when I feel it—something hard against my lower back. I freeze, heat flooding my face.
Oh.
Julien’s laugh is low and rough in my ear. “Now do you understand why I asked you to stop moving?”
I can’t believe this is happening. “I—”
“You’re an attractive woman, rubbing your ass against my cock.” His voice drops to a whisper. “What did you think would happen?”
I open my mouth, but words desert me.
His hand splays across my stomach, holding me still against him. “The more you move, the worse it gets,” he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. “So unless you want to feel exactly how much worse…”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, but there’s no heat in it.
“I’m honest.” He shifts slightly, adjusting our position. “And human. I need to rest a bit, and this way I can make sure you won’t do anything stupid. But I can let you go if it bothers you that much.”
But he doesn’t move to release me, and I don’t try to escape again. We sit in charged silence, my back to his chest, his arms still wrapped around me, his arousal an impossible-to-ignore presence against my ass.
“If it helps.” He rests his head back against the railing, “I’m not planning to act on it.”
“Good to know,” I murmur.
“You’re tense.”
“Just wondering how many women are out there missing you right now.”
“Not one as far as I know. What about you?”
“I was engaged to your brother.”
“Didn’t stop him.”
“Wow.” I cross my arms. “You sure you don’t hate me?”
“Too early?”
“What do you think?”
“Sorry.” His arm snakes tighter, drawing a traitorous flutter from somewhere deep in my belly.
It should be uncomfortable, this forced intimacy with a man who’s practically a stranger. Who, until moments ago, I thought despised me. Yet the solid weight of his arms around me feels… not terrible. Warm. Safe. In a world gone mad, that counts for something.
And yet… This is dangerous.
Amelia’s expression lights up every time Julien’s name comes up. How comfortably she put her hand on his arm, and how his eyes softened in response.
I clear my throat. “So… Really, no one? No one you ever talked baby names with?”
His sigh ruffles my hair. “I guess I did with your sister once.”
My throat feels tight.
“More like she talked to me about it,” he corrects. “What was it again?”
“Theo for a boy. Dove for a girl.”
“Seems right.”
“You were close.”
“We were friends. A long time ago. Are we done with the questioning? I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Yep.”
It should be okay? I’m not doing anything illegal. It’s practical. The wind is cold, and he’s a furnace. I don’t have to feel guilty.
I slowly, hesitantly let myself relax against him.
Seconds stretch into minutes.
I can feel the tension in his body gradually easing, his breathing slowing, and his grip around my waist loosening.
At least he’s finally resting. He’s an asshole, sure, but a tired one. And considering how much he’s done to keep us all in one piece, maybe he’s earned the right to be both.
“I’m sorry for—” He pauses. “I didn’t intend to—”
“Be mean?”
“In the bridal suite. When you were changing, and I saw your body.” His voice is softer now, less sharp-edged. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry for what I said.”
Does he know? He can’t. “It’s fine. You were… surprisingly gentlemanly.”
“Surprising because…?”
Because you didn’t question me further about the bruises. “Because you don’t like me.”
He sighs. “We’re back to that again.”
“Well, you’ve made it pretty clear.”
“Have I?” His fingers drum against my hip in a thoughtful rhythm. “Or have I just been an asshole to everyone equally?”
That startles a laugh out of me.
We fall silent again, and it’s strange how comfortable this silence feels, how natural it is to sit here with him when everything between us has been tense and awkward until now.
He leans into me, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Are you scared of me?”
A shiver runs through me. “Should I be?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You like those, don’t you? Direct answers.”
“They’re generally more useful than evasions.”
“Hmm…” Am I scared of him? He’s intimidating, certainly. Intense in a way that makes me want to look away. But scared? No. Even now, with his arms around me and his body’s response pressed against me, I don’t feel fear. “No.”
He makes a noncommittal sound, neither believing nor disbelieving.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“You flinch every time I come near you.”
“I flinch around everyone. It’s not about…”
“Your father—”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I cut him off, not wanting to explore that particular conversational path. “You’ve been awake for days.”
“Changing the subject?”
“Yes.”
He chuckles. “At least you’re direct about that.”
“How’d you even find me?”
“Wasn’t hard. Checked all the rooms downstairs first. When I didn’t find you, I figured you’d either left the building entirely or gone up.”
“And you chose up.”
His arms tighten fractionally. “Hoped you weren’t stupid enough to go outside alone.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Proven right so far.”
I elbow him gently in the ribs. “Asshole.”
“Not denying it.”
The quiet settles again, easier this time. Outside, the sun has moved, casting longer shadows across the church grounds. I close my eyes and listen to the birds humming.
Suddenly, a shout from below cuts through the peace. Both of us are instantly alert. Voices rise, urgent and panicked.
Julien’s arms fall away as he surges to his feet, hauling me up with him. “Stay behind me.”