28. Twenty-Eight
It’s just past midnight when we finally get back to the bunker, and I’m beat. Exhaustion has been building over the last 24 hours, and it’s starting to press down on me, demanding I give in and finally rest.
Tucker and I work together to cover the van with the camouflaged tarp, making sure to secure the edges to prevent it from blowing away. Somewhere deep beneath the thick blanket of fatigue, I’m marveling at all the planning that had to take place to keep us hidden, to keep us safe.
I’m even more grateful for all of Dane’s planning when I think about the house. The house that’s now just a pile of smoldering rubble in the middle of an empty clearing. Who knows where we would be if Dane hadn’t set up the escape years ago? If he never insisted I rig the whole place to blow. If Tucker hadn’t programmed those cameras and coded the alert system to keep us informed about what was going down.
I don’t follow that train of thought, it would just drag me down into a fit of useless rage. Half of the reason I couldn’t sleep last night was because those same thoughts kept circling around my head. What would be happening to Madeline right now if we weren’t so careful, so precise, in our prep? The other half was also because of Madeline and those perfect noises drifting out of the tent. Each moan and whimper a reminder she’s still with us, that we didn’t lose her to Omni.
Dane opens the hatch, and a beam of light floods the field, a reversal of a UFO trying to beam us up. The three of us quickly drop into our underground spaceship, and shut the door behind us to make sure the light doesn’t alert anyone to our presence. We’re not overly concerned, but our abundance of caution is what’s kept us alive until now.
Dane charges ahead, straight down the hallway leading to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Likely the correct choice for all of us.
No good decisions are made on zero sleep and an adrenaline crash.
One look at Tucker and I know he feels the same as I do. It’s a full chested desire to hunt down Madeline warring with the knowledge that as soon as we stop moving we’ll be out cold, lost to another night of fitful rest.
A few tired, trudging steps bring us to her door, both of us there with innocent intentions. A couple of saints, standing outside her room in hopes of saying goodnight and letting her know we made it back safely.
There’s no response when Tucker gently raps on the door, so he cracks the door and peeks inside. She’s probably knocked out, exhausted from whatever bullshit attitude Silas was throwing at her all day. The dude needs to get a grip and admit he’s into her. It’s cowardice, clean and simple, and she deserves better than that.
“She’s not in there,” he hisses, his voice is quiet but tense.
I’m immediately alert, every horrible possibility running through my brain at lightning speed.
“What do you mean she’s not in there?” I shove the door open and it slams into the wall, loud enough for the sound to echo through the halls.
He’s not lying, not only is she not there, it looks like she’s never even touched the bed. If she was taken, it could have been hours ago.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Silas!” I shout through the dining hall. He’s the only one we left to protect her, he better have her somewhere or be dead himself.
On the other side of the large, empty room a door swings open, Silas stomping out ready for some sort of fight. He didn’t even bother to get dressed. The bastard is just standing in his underwear and his unbound hair matches the wildness of his eyes.
“Where the fuck is she?” Tucker barks. It’s more forceful than I’ve ever heard him speak, especially to Silas.
“What are you talking about?” The fire drains from his eyes as he drags a hand over his face, wiping away the sleep he was evidently enjoying.
“Madeline! She’s not in her bed. Where is she?” My anger is clear in my voice. I need answers. We need answers.
Silas flexes his jaw and turns away, dismissing the panic both of us are being swarmed by as if it was a simple overreaction.
“Silas!”
He doesn’t respond. He just lumbers back into his room, uninterested in the fact that she’s gone.
I burst in after him, not considering any option other than him letting her run off. When I barrel through the still open door, I slam into the exact thing I was searching for, sending her falling flat onto her ass.
“Jesus, what the hell, Ray?” she shouts from her place on the floor, but I’m frozen, my chest heaving and my mind frantically trying to untangle itself.
Tucker isn’t nearly as thrown as I am and scrambles to help her up. She gratefully takes his outstretched hand and returns her angry eyes to me.
“What’s with all the yelling?”
“You weren’t in your room. We were worried,” Tucker mumbles, raising a hand to cup her face. She holds his raised wrist, angling her head deeper into the calming touch, both of them visibly relaxing in front of me.
Now that my own panic has calmed, I take a look around, caught on the moment we’ve clearly interrupted. Her dark hair is a tangled crown around her head, and she’s only wearing a t-shirt, one that hangs off her like a dress. It’s almost comically too large for even her curvy frame.
The sight of Madeline in Silas’ shirt doesn’t rile up any feelings of jealousy, contrary to my expectations. Actually, the implication of it is nearly enough to get me hard. I’m no stranger to sharing women, not with Tucker anyways, but I’d never considered Silas to be someone I would want thrown into the mix. By the looks of her, though, he might be a great addition to whatever fuck fest I want to get started with our girl.
“Sorry to interrupt, Princess.” I slip back into the self assured attitude I know drives her wild, smiling enough to draw out my dimple for good measure. It draws out the exact reaction I wanted, a slight blush dusting her cheeks.
When I turn towards Silas, he looks like a bear woken too early from its hibernation. His glare tells me he won’t hesitate to knock me on my ass if I bother her about their special time together. He may be sitting on the edge of the bed, but it would take him no time at all to get to me if he really wanted to.
I cut my eyes back to Madeline, watching as the blush fades from her cheeks, a new fire, a new curiosity, sparking in her eyes.
There’s my girl.
“No interruption. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’m really tired.” She pulls her eyebrows inward and puckers her lips on the really in a pout that sends a jolt directly to my dick.
I watch as she turns and crawls back into his bed, the shirt she’s wearing is both sinfully short and infuriatingly long at the same time. She curls her fingers over Silas’ shoulder, a gentle request he lay back down with her, and he complies without a second thought. He’s completely uninterested in whatever might come out of this late-night intrusion. He doesn’t give a shit what happens as long as he gets some rest.
I stalk over to the bed, standing over her for just a second before bending forward. When my lips brush over hers she lets out a quiet gasp. I swallow it and deepen the kiss, before pulling away quickly. She’s a little breathless when I stand fully and it might be my favorite sight ever. Silas just grumbles in response, and I have half a thought to offer him a little kiss too, but I’d much rather keep all my limbs intact.
“Goodnight, Princess. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Tucker doesn’t choose to display the same boldness, but he wishes her a good night from where he stands, telling her where each of our doors are if she needs anything.
No need, Tuck, I think to myself, she’s being taken care of for the night.
We split off after closing the door, but the thought of the two of them going at it has me rock hard, and I know I’m not getting any sleep until it gets taken care of. Between this and the anxiety still clinging to my skin over her possible abduction, I need a release.
Since she’s already taken for the night…
“Tuck.” My call stops him just before he gets into his room. He turns slowly, meeting my stare, exhaustion rounding his shoulders. “I think I need a shower. How about you?”
His eyes darken instantly, and I know I’ve got him.