Ten
Jackson
Her pupils blew wide when I said it.
Good girl.
Goddamn. I didn’t mean for it to slip out like that.
But watching Asia struggle—stubborn, chin up, breath shaking—flipped something primal in me.
Something ugly.
I wanted her afraid.
Wanted her turned on.
Wanted her to know exactly who she decided to rely on.
She squirmed, her thick hips practically demanding my touch. I tracked the motion as my cock twitched, needy and impatient behind my zipper.
I stepped in close—close enough to catch her anxious scent.
Her breath hitched when I dragged my thumb across her lips.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A test.
“Keep looking at me like that, Counselor,” I rasped, my voice garbled with my own want.
Her lips parted on a tiny gasp.
I let my thumb linger, then pressed harder, chest swelling with pride as she opened for me.
I leaned in low, my lips against her ear. “You’re gonna survive this. Because you’ll stick with me. Do exactly as I say.”
She nodded faintly.
“By now you know that’s not good enough. Say it,” I demanded.
“I— I’ll do exactly as you say,” she whispered.
Fucking perfect.
“Good girl,” I growled again, just to feel her tremble.
I stepped back, leaving her shaking and wide-eyed, the promise of what to come hanging between us like a grenade.
We locked eyes, and the thunderous shock almost rocked me.
I didn’t understand this thing between us.
Didn’t understand the effect this woman had on me.
I told myself it was just a trauma response, that my psyche was fixated on her instead of the shitshow outside because she was safer.
But looking at Asia didn’t feel safer.
It left me raw, making me feel something much too much like weakness.
I should have hated that.
I didn’t.
And I definitely didn’t hate when she smiled at me.
No, I didn’t hate that at all.
She tilted her head, considering what to say next. “You really like my plan?”
I sensed her trepidation and reluctance to tell me about her plan, but she’d shared it anyway. Pushed her fear aside and did what needed to be done. If nothing else, she had guts.
“Wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t,” I said .
She rolled her eyes. “You could just say ‘Yes, Asia, I like your plan.’”
“I could,” I said as I walked through the suite again, mulling the plan over as I did.
Sure, protocol said to try to get away from population centers, but the first thing I learned as a soldier was that protocol went out of the window when confronted by facts on the ground.
And the facts were: we were currently stuck inside a courthouse, couldn’t access transportation, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
“How far away does Judge Hanlon live?” I asked.
“Seven miles,” she said.
I scoffed. “Or, in Atlanta miles, like a hundred?”
She laughed then, the sound joyful, almost girlish.
“Yeah, you figured us out. Or maybe an apocalypse was the thing that could finally fix Atlanta traffic,” she said.
She frowned, but immediately refocused. “It’s not a far distance, at least by car, and the terrain is pretty even.
Some hills, which can’t be avoided in North Georgia, but nothing like a mountain. The problem is?—”
“Cover,” I said, cutting her off.
I could tell she searched for the right word, and I supplied it.
Cover would be critical, but it was the one thing I wasn’t sure about.
“You know how to get there, right?”
She nodded.
“Good. Draw me a map,” I said.
Asia grimaced but then walked over to the row of monitors and opened a small cubby on top. She pulled out a yellow legal pad and pen.
“Drawing is not my forte, but I will attempt to sketch something out,” she said.
I watched as she wrote on the paper, her hand motions concise, efficient, and most important of all, certain.
“So you really do know how to get there?” I asked.
She must have heard my surprise. “The route from here to the judge’s house is ingrained in my brain forever.
I can even tell you about all the stuff in between, like the coffee place about a mile from his house with the best apple fritters ever made, and the grocery store a mile and a half away, the steakhouse two miles away that allowed Judge Hanlon to combine his love of a martini over dinner with cardio and avoid an embarrassing DUI at the same time.
So, yes, I’m very familiar with the area. ”
She finished and handed me the paper.
She told the truth. Drawing really wasn’t her forte, but the route was clear.
“This is the way you would suggest?” I asked, looking up at her.
She had drawn streets with a star marking the courthouse and another marking Judge Hanlon’s house on the opposite side of the paper.
“Yup. It’s the most direct and usually the fastest.”
“Good,” I said. “Now draw three alternative routes and we’ll go.”
“We’ll go? Just like that?” she asked, looking at me both skeptically and with hope.
“Yeah. Just like that,” I responded.
She still looked skeptical. “What’s the problem, Counselor?”
She studied me, clearly trying to decide on what to say next .
Finally, she sighed, then met my eye. “How do I know you aren’t going to take these directions and ditch me?”
“You don’t,” I responded.
I wasn’t particularly harsh, but I still expected outrage or tears or both.
But the ever-surprising Asia just nodded. “Thanks for being honest,” she said.
Then she went back to her drawings.
“Why did you ask for so many?” she asked as she worked.
“We need a plan, but we don’t know what we’re stepping into. This gives us flexibility. Hopefully the direct route will work, but if not, we need to be ready to change things on the fly. So this gives us options,” I said.
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Good. And when we’re out, I need you to follow my lead,” I said.
“I have no plans of doing otherwise,” she responded, still focused on the pages.
I watched her work, struck by how calm I felt.
The situation was objectively bad, but my natural tendency to keep a cool head, which was shaped and honed by the crucible I wouldn’t dare call a childhood and my years in the military, almost always kept me on an even keel.
But this was more than that.
This was her.
Something about this woman took the edge off, and that confused me to no end. I was spared having to consider it more when she finished.
She handed me the sheets of paper. “I even added an extra one, and I’ve placed these in order from most to least viable. Take a look. Tell me if anything seems confusing or out of place.”
I studied her papers, appreciating the level of detail, especially side streets, alleys—places where things could hide and gang up. And no, she wasn’t an artist, but she was clearly a great communicator.
I nodded my approval. “These make sense. I think we’re ready,” I said.
“Do you want to wait, or should we go now?” Asia asked.
I considered the question and shared my response.
“I think we should get out of here as soon as we can. I’m less worried about getting trapped than before, but it’s a real possibility, and we don’t want to get caught. Plus, I’m hungry,” I said.
She smiled. “Judge Hanlon has a five-year supply of MREs in his attic,” she said.
I huffed and then nodded toward the door.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Asia
“I hope this is easy,” I said, glancing at Jack.
He said we should travel light, so we ate a breakfast of crackers and instant coffee, and other than a bottle of water each, we were going to leave everything else behind.
Now, less than twenty minutes later, he stood in front of the door, and we were allegedly ready to go.
Except I didn’t feel ready.
I was happy that Jack agreed with my plan, and I was still sure it was the right call.
But being sure…and actually stepping outside of this room were two entirely different stories .
“Don’t worry about whether it’s easy or not. Just focus on the plan. Everything else will fall into place,” he said.
Jack’s expression was damn near carved out of granite. Weirdly, that hardness helped relax me. I found myself smiling.
“That’s it? That’s the prep talk?” I said, tilting my head as I stared at him.
“Yeah,” he said.
His expression didn’t change, but there was a little glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Seeing that pressed down the last bit of nerves.
He saw that, and I might have been imagining things, but I swore I saw a glint of approval.
“ Now are you ready, Counselor?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Jackson.”
But he didn’t move. Instead, he stared at me, clearly weighing something.
Finally, he spoke. “Asia.”
My gaze flew to his, something about his tone drawing my attention. I couldn’t remember him addressing me by name before, but the way he said it now demanded my attention.
When he was sure I was listening, he continued. “We have no idea what we’re about to step into, so you need to be ready for anything. Like what happened to that janitor.”
“His name was Jorge,” I whispered.
Jack nodded. “Jorge. He was a friend of yours, right?”
“Yeah, he was,” I responded, determined to keep the tears that were threatening from spilling.
I would have expected condolences.
Apologies for what he’d had to do.
Any of the meaningless niceties that society demanded.
But I didn’t get any of that from Jack.
There would be no reassurances from him. On instinct, I braced for his words.
“Jorge’s gone. He was gone before I came across him in that hallway. The same thing is going to happen again. And it might be someone else you know.”
“You say that like it’s true,” I said.
I wasn’t sure why I was pushing this point. I knew he was right. But hope kept me from accepting it completely.
“I am sure,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. “We don’t know what’s out there, but one thing is certain: your life is on the line, and you’re going to have a choice. I did what I needed to. I’m going to have to do it again. You will, too. Make your peace with that now.”
“You make it sound so simple,” I said.
“It is simple. It’s life or death. That means you can’t hesitate.”
My lips curled, but I wasn’t sure if the scowl was for Jack or myself. Maybe both of us, because it wasn’t fair to be pissed at Jack for telling me the truth.
Still, he didn’t have to be so dickish about it.
I forced the scowl away, then looked at Jack. “Thanks for the pep talk. But I can take care of myself.”
I sounded like a petulant child, and Jack would have been well within his rights to call me on it. But to my surprise, he gave me one of the quarter smiles that seemed to be his specialty.
“Maybe. But out there, there is no ‘yourself.’ There’s us . The team. The only way this works is if we do it together,” he said.
“The only way this works is if we do it together,” I echoed.
As I spoke, I kept my eyes locked on his, and saw something dark and all-consuming pass through them.
Then he turned toward the door.
The click of the lock sounded like a thousand things at once.
The first sounds of a new world.
A bomb exploding.
A dinner bell.
My gut seized.
Still, I stepped beside him.
And then followed him into the unknown.