18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Shelby
I’m not sure how much time passes when we jolt to a stop, and I wake with a start. Cason is out of the truck before I can process the fact that I was basically drooling all over him, which I’m thankful for although I miss the warmth of his chest.
I have no idea what it means but I’m not about to psychoanalyze it. That will only send me further down the rabbit hole and it’s not all that promising to begin with.
Larry soon follows, leaving me to stare out the windshield. Wiping my bleary eyes, I watch their forms blurred by the rain as he points to something beyond the truck.
I can’t see what they’re looking at and I’m about to get out when Cason appears and says, “Stay here.”
His grim demeanor does not inspire confidence, and I sit back down rather than ask. Whatever it is, I trust he’ll request help when he needs it, which is a strange notion.
Trust.
It’s been so long since I found someone to put my faith in that it feels weird to consider it now. Still, it’s true.
Despite how wrong I was about Ben, I know to my bones that Cason is too good to hurt a woman.
How? It’s in the small things.
When Ben opened the door like a supposed gentleman would, he did it to show the world his property.
His grip was always too tight and his nasty words a warning.
Your shirt's too low. Your skirt's too high. Only whores wear red lipstick. Ben wasn’t being kind. He was displaying his dominance. Half the time, I don’t think Cason knows he’s being kind. For him, it’s an instinct.
From the back, I hear the remainder of our group stir while Larry and Cason confer. Apparently, Nate can’t wait, and he jumps over the side before approaching the two men.
When I glance back, Nora raises a brow. Shrugging I shake my head, and she looks beyond my shoulder.
Turning back, I move toward the door once again when Larry waves an arm, Nate staggers back and Cason points his finger in Nate’s face. As soon as I open the door, I hear Nate shout, “No way. No fucking way.”
“What?” I call and Cason swings around as I approach.
When his jaw twitches, I curl my fingers into a fist and repeat, “What?”
“That,” Nate snarls, waving his hand and I step closer to the gridlocked interstate.
I can’t see far but from what I do see, it’s a pile up of cars and unfortunately filled from one end to the other with them, swaying in the drizzling rain, their mouths hanging open as they stare at the sky.
Abandoned cars lay interspersed between the undulating bodies. Some stand with the doors wide open while others, to my dismay, rock within.
Where were they going when their world turned to shit? Work? The grocery store? Home?
Frankly I’m still trying to come to terms with what’s happening so I can easily imagine how unprepared people were.
It’s not like you expect an injured man to be dangerous, at least not in the sense that he plans to eat your flesh.
So many good Samaritan’s lost their lives just trying to do the right thing and now they’re all fucking dead.
While the guys continue to argue behind me, I step closer to the interchange and stare into the abyss. A woman who from this distance looks disturbingly like my mother writhes on the ground. Her legs are bent at an awkward angle leaving her only able to move with her arms.
She pulls herself across the concrete and my mouth waters when her skin sloughs away under the rough surface. She shouldn’t be alive but once again, this shit defies all logic.
Around her, the others stumble over her form, some of whom lose their balance before joining her on the pavement. Sickened, I look away as Cason says, “The only other way will take too much time, and we don’t know what we’ll find.”
“So, pick somewhere else,” Nate screeches and I wince.
“Now–” Larry starts but Cason waves his arm.
“Enough! If you don’t like it, go the fuck your own way.”
When Nora approaches with a troubled frown and touches Cason’s arm, he looks down at her with a scowl before shaking his head and walking away.
While I don’t particularly like Nate and hate that I agree with him, I don’t think driving into a mass of those fuckers is the right thing to do.
However, Cason hasn’t exactly been receptive to my opinions, which is why I’m hoping Nora can get the job done. As soon as she steps away and joins him, I follow the road down the way and stare beyond the horde.
It would seem that if we could get past the massive pileup causing this newest roadblock, it might be smooth sailing, but we won’t know until we’re up there.
I’m assuming there’s a reason why we can’t just take side streets to the next on-ramp but being unfamiliar with the area, I just don’t know. It seems safer to go around, and I don’t quite understand Cason’s urgency, but I suspect it’s related to his feelings about leading our group.
A pit forms in my stomach at the thought which turns sour when Nate approaches and I hunch my shoulders. I have zero desire to have a conversation with him but once again, he’s oblivious and grumbles, “Who put him in charge anyway?”
Biting back my acidic retort, I shrug instead and survey the landscape as I murmur, “He’s got a plan. Do you?”
After a beat of silence, Nate rasps, “I just want everything to be normal again.”
Ignoring the kernel of sympathy his softly spoken words cause, I say, “I don't know what to say. This is our new reality. It isn’t pretty but if we stick together, we might get through it.”
“Might?” he snorts, and I mentally roll my eyes.
“Yes, Nate. People are eating each other. There are no guarantees.” When his sigh skates over my skin, I grit my teeth, and say, “Look, your attitude isn’t helping.
Stop fighting everything and maybe this will be a little more fucking pleasant.
Either way, my money’s on Cason. At least he’s not an asshole. ”
When a shadow forms over Nate’s shoulder, I meet Cason’s stare, and he cocks a brow. At least this time my cheeks don’t heat but I’m still ridiculously appalled when Nate sneers, “Of course you side with him. You’d jump on his dick if he’d let you.”
At his nasty words, my jaw drops but before I can speak, Cason barks, “Enough!”
The damage is done though. My humiliation is complete. I could laugh it off and say something stupid, but I don’t have the damn energy.
Instead, I bump Nate’s shoulder as I pass and hiss, “Jealous?”
“Of what?” he snorts but I don’t bother to respond.
Once I’m back at the truck, I slam my way inside and cross my arms before staring out the windshield. I know I’m being stupid. Yes, Cason is attractive, and I’ve had weird feelings around him but I’m not exactly looking for an invitation to have sex.
Still the feelings I do have feel too fragile to reveal to anyone much less the man himself. Maybe it’s an infantile crush on the first guy after my husband who’s treated me with kindness. I don’t know but it’s harmless or it was until Nate made it a thing.
Asshole.
Cason
We both watch Shelby walk away, her spine stiff and as soon as she’s out of earshot I lean into Nate and say, “This is your last warning. I don’t fucking care what you think and I sure as shit don’t want to hear it. You so much as sneeze the wrong direction and you’re out.”
I don’t give him time to respond which is just as well because the fucker would only aggravate me more. What I refuse to analyze as I move toward Nora and Larry is why my throat burned when instead of holding her ground, Shelby walked away, hiding her flushed cheeks behind her hair.
What is she thinking from her perch in the truck where she’s glaring out the windshield? Why the fuck does it matter?
Shaking my head of the nonsense, I stop before the two ignoring Larry’s wide eyes and Nora’s frown as I snap, “Well?”
“I don’t know,” Nora says, glancing beyond my shoulder. “Maybe we should try the next on-ramp?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I consider her words before conceding. “Okay, but the next exit will be more populated. It’s near the city center and a main thoroughfare.”
Beyond avoiding the busy exit, I can’t say why I wanted to go through the horde but for this intense desire to be somewhere where life makes sense. The unfortunate reality though is that it will never make sense again and I’m seriously fucking fucked.
Either way, taking the freeway is not an option and the brutal burn in my chest increases when I follow Larry’s gaze toward the truck as he says, “We got those little girls . . . "
“Fine,” I mutter, ignoring Nora’s relief as I brush past her.
From this distance, I can see the stiff set to Shelby’s shoulders confirming her anger.
I don’t blame her because Nate is a fuckwad, but I wish she would let it go.
Nate may be a little fucker but what he thinks or says is meaningless.
Why she can’t see or accept that is beyond me.