Chapter 29
ARIA
I have no idea where this town could possibly be located on a map or even which direction I’ve been heading for the past few hours.
All I know is that I can’t keep going. I need to rest. I need to eat and shower and feel like a human again.
I need to put on fresh fucking underwear.
But most importantly, I need to make sure Stone is going to be alright.
He needs a good hit of morphine, but without those painkillers, it’s been a rough journey.
He’s struggling. He’s still clammy and coming down with a fever, but his pulse is slowly getting stronger.
He’s fighting just as much as I knew he would.
We just need to get through these next few hours, then we’ll be in the clear.
Slowly making my way through Cedar Falls, I search for somewhere for us to crash for the next few days until Stone is strong enough to travel again, but I don’t have that natural instinct the way he does.
He could look at a row of houses and just know which one is our best bet.
He knows how to survive, and I so desperately wish he’d pass those instincts on to me.
I drive for almost forty-five minutes before the search gets the best of me, and I end up passing straight through the town and into the rural properties, each large block filled with different arrays of livestock, and I can’t help but smile at the thought of the families who bundle up their animals and take them into town every few months to show them off at the county fair.
The wives probably fight it out for the title of the best homemade jam while the teenagers run off to make out behind the main stage, where their little brothers and sisters were performing the ridiculous dance their school teachers had put together.
Passing a few properties, I find myself slowing to a stop outside the only property for miles that bears no livestock, and something in my gut has me pulling into the dirt driveway.
I pass through a rickety gate that looks as though it hasn’t been tended to in years, and the further I get, the more confident I become.
There’s a main house way in the distance, but to my right, there’s a caretaker’s cottage that’s barely holding on to life. It’s got good bones and will be just enough for what we need to lay low for the next few days.
Driving up to the cottage, I pull the Charger in behind it, concealing it from both the main house and the road.
I pause for a moment, double-checking that the sound of the Charger’s engine hasn’t caused any kind of stir.
Once I’m certain that I don’t need to fly back out of here, I cut the engine and search through the array of shit in the back seat, curling my hand around the discarded gun.
This shit is always so much easier when Stone isn’t out cold. His presence alone is enough to scare anyone away, but doing this myself has my stomach twisting into knots. I have no choice, though. If I want to survive this wild world, I need to find that backbone I lost all those years ago.
Pushing out of the car, I slowly creep toward the back door of the cottage, grateful for the sun that’s just peeking up over the mountains in the distance. This would really creep me out in the dead of night.
Testing the handle, I find the door unlocked, and I use the tip of the gun to push it open before slowly making my way inside. The place is vile, and there’s definitely something rotting in here, but so far, there are no axe-wielding murderers jumping out at me. Only the one I left in the car.
Making my way from room to room, and getting caught in every cobweb possible, I finally take a proper breath. There’s nothing here. It’s just about as safe as I am when I’m in Stone’s arms, assuming those arms aren’t inside a torture chamber and about to be shot up, of course.
Giving myself a moment to really take it in, I look at what we’re working with.
It’s dirty. Like really fucking dirty. It’s going to take some good elbow grease to make this place shine again. Every surface is covered in a thick layer of dust, but the hot water runs, and from what I can tell, it’s clean as well.
Giddiness blooms in my chest, and with a newfound confidence, I head back out to the car and grab the bags of crap I’d bought from the gas station and take them inside.
Fishing through it, I find everything I need to give myself a decent shower before searching through the cupboards and finding a towel and a change of clothes.
Sure, they’re men’s clothes and look as though they’ve been well-worn for the better part of fifty years, but they beat the blood-stained clothes I’ve got.
Heading into the shower, I turn on the taps and have to wait a good few minutes for the water to warm.
Then, not knowing just how long that water will last, I scrub myself until my skin is raw.
I even go as far as to use the soap in my hair.
It’s not something I’ve ever had to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The hot water lasts remarkably long, and when I step out of the shower, I feel like a brand-new woman, even more so when I step into a brand-new pair of panties.
There’s no denying how good it feels to have that layer of protection looking after my little cookie, and it makes me realize how badly I’ve taken the little things for granted.
Fuck, I love clean underwear. There’s nothing quite like it.
Having been away from Stone for long enough, I head back to the car to check on him, and finding him still sound asleep, I open the car door wide, letting fresh air flow through the cabin.
I check his pulse for the billionth time, and with nothing more to do but wait, I collapse onto the thick grass beside the open car door, not wanting to wait inside and rest while Stone is out here alone.
Soon, the exhaustion claims me, and I fall into a deep sleep in the grass, my arms shoved under my head as a pillow.
A soft gasp wakes me, and my eyes spring open to find my back burning in the midday sun. I push myself up, finding Stone awake and alert, trying to roll his stupid ass out of the car.
“Menace?” he calls, a hint of fear in his tone.
“Down here,” I tell him, my body cramping up after lying on the ground for so long.
Or hell, maybe it’s cramping up because I had the shit beat out of me with a metal bar no less than twelve hours ago.
I start pushing up, desperate to get to him before he manages to pull at the bandaging around the gunshot wound, tear it open, and spring a leak.
“Where are we?” he asks, taking in the small cottage.
“We’re safe,” I tell him, hovering on my knees inside the open door as I drop my hands to his strong thighs. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I don’t know how the fuck I’m alive.”
I grin. “I wasn’t about to let you die,” I tease. “You haven’t even claimed my ass yet, and apparently you’re not allowed to be whisked away into the dark pits of hell without experiencing Heaven first.”
His lips twitch, the corners pulling into a smirk, and he tries to pull it back, not prepared to admit that I’m the funniest person he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.
Eventually, the laughter wins out, and a wide grin stretches across his lips.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that. ”
“And I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’d make your life a living hell if you tried to die on me.”
He sits up and spins around, his feet coming down on the grass on either side of my knees as he takes my chin in his hand and lifts it until his eyes are locked on mine. “I love you, Menace. I don’t know what the hell you’ve had to do to save my life—or how fucking scared you must have been.”
I push up higher on my knees and press my lips to his. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I won’t,” he vows. “But tell me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Where the fuck did all of these bandages come from?”
Ahhh shit.
I cringe, and he immediately pulls back, his sharp gaze not missing a thing.
“You left me no choice,” I say, already on the defensive as I get to my feet and move away from the car, knowing he’s about ready to explode. When that happens, I don’t want to be near him, because I can guarantee that this time, he probably will spring a leak.
He gets out of the car, tracking me like a hunter stalking his prey, not even caring that every step he takes is probably filled with excruciating agony. “What did you do?”
“Well, ummm . . .” I cringe again and cautiously look at the ground as though the lack of eye contact is somehow going to make this easier.
“You kinda passed out and were all like, oh noooo, I’m dying.
Save me, Menace, and so I pulled off the highway and found a town that has a very bustling nightlife.
I parked between two buildings that were kinda hidden away, stole some drunk girl’s purse, and went on a shopping spree in the local gas station, but before you yell at me—”
“YOU DID WHAT?”
“I found underpants. And soap. And toothpaste. And I—”
“Fucking hell, Menace,” he grunts, probably preparing himself to give me a three-hour lecture about how exposing myself was a terrible idea, but he won’t find an apology here. I did what I had to do to save his life, and that’s not something I will ever apologize for.
Instead, I look up at him and bat my lashes, knowing he can’t resist. “Did I mention I found sandwiches?”
His whole demeanor changes, and his brows arch high. At this point, I’m wondering how much longer he can bear to be on his feet. I need to get him in bed. “Sandwiches?”
I nod. “Plural. I bought a bunch,” I tell him. “Figured you’d need as much energy as you could get.”
“Shit, Menace. You should have started with that,” he says, turning his attention to the cottage behind me. “Now, show me where the fuck these sandwiches are while you tell me where the hell we are.”
“Cedar Falls,” I tell him, making my way up the back porch to the door.