39. Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
Shelby
With Harry safely ensconced in Bob and Norma’s home, we gather our group, which continues to dwindle, around the living area the following evening.
Snuggled into a blanket because I feel perpetually cold these days, I muster a wan smile for Cason when he sits beside me. I know he’s worried, and I’m warmed through at the thought but once again, I’m the burden in this situation.
Will he ever see past my weakness to the strength I’m trying to find?
Across the room, Nora snuggles against Larry, seeking comfort in this fucked up situation while Nate stands before the cold fireplace, his head hung low. Lance pulls up a stool, avoiding everyone’s gaze and Amanda and Zoey take the floor before the couch.
When Zoey pulls Bean into her lap and Amanda puts her arm around her sister’s shoulder, a rush of gratitude that these two remain unscathed cascades through me.
Bo, who was locked away in a shed beyond the barn while I was enduring my own hell, sits on Zoey’s other side, his warmth covering my icy feet.
It’s painful to look around the room and not see Jason there, so I bow my head while Cason clears his throat and says, “We have to decide what we want to do.”
When no one speaks he splays his hands and says, “Bob offered to let us stay if we want, or we could go back to the farm. We could make it work, especially with our neighboring survivors' help.”
Us . . . does that mean he plans to stay? Or has he put off his journey in favor of fixing the broken pieces of our now fractured group?
When no one immediately pipes in, I glance around the room at the beleaguered expressions of my family, for that’s what they are. We’ve been through too much to think anything different, and I wonder as Cason also assesses them, if he feels the same way?
Finally, Lance whispers, “I don’t know, man. That place feels cursed now.”
Silently agreeing, I turn to Larry when he says, “None of us know what the fuck we’re doing anyway.”
Nora nods her agreement and Amanda says, “I don’t want to go back. That place was creepy.”
Curious as to her feelings on the matter, I try to catch her gaze, but she’s focused on Zoey, whose head is bowed to Bean.
“Nora, Shelby, what do you think?” At Cason's question, Nora scrunches her nose before saying, “I don’t want to go back but I’m not sure I want to stay here either.”
If we decide to move on, this will stymie Cason’s plans once again. As much as I hate to be the one who comes between him and his journey, I can’t go back, and I just don’t feel comfortable staying here. Some stains you can’t wash clean, and this one is too big to hide the evidence.
“I’m with Nora,” I whisper, looking away when Cason bows his head. Is he angry?
“Does anyone else want to stay?” he asks and when no one responds, he pushes to his feet. “We’ll go then.”
He exits before anyone can comment and I watch him leave with a slow burn in my heart. Is it selfish to want him to want to stay when he has family out there somewhere?
Yes, it most definitely is but it doesn’t stop me from wishing for it.
Cason
It’s not that I’m resentful of their decision because I get it. I don’t want to stay either. I can’t decide if that’s foolish or not, but I always follow my instincts and they’re telling me to get the fuck out of dodge.
However, with that decision comes the realization that I may never see my family again. The cabin was a temporary meet up place and inevitably they’re going to move on.
My only hope is that they leave something behind telling us where they went. It’s not a question of bringing the group with me. After everything that went down, I can’t leave them behind, especially Shelby.
Maybe it’s stupid to rush headlong into something so soon after my wife took her life but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that this world is deadly. I can’t continue to push away the people who bring me purpose and dare I say it peace, because it could end in a moment’s time.
I can’t define my feelings for Shelby, but they were strong enough to bring me to my knees when I thought I wouldn’t find her. They kept me going when I knew she needed me to be the strong one, even though I fell apart on the inside.
It’s possible the burgeoning feelings between us will fade over time. She’s seeking safety after leaving an abusive relationship after all.
Either way, I refuse to be the one who lets her down. Now, we can move forward and hopefully find a safe fucking place to land because we can’t outrun this forever.
Eventually we’re going to have to take a stand and that’s more frightening than accepting I care about Shelby because I don’t want to lose her too.
In an any case, we agreed to leave in two days’ time and while the others continue to recuperate and gather their strength, I pour over the maps I took from the mini-mart, planning and re-planning routes to ensure we have options.
The evening before we’re set to leave, I’m lying on the floor in the bedroom set aside for the men when the door cracks open with a squeak.
When I look up, I’m surprised to see Shelby tiptoeing across the floor and now my heart pounds for an entirely different reason.
After everything that transpired, my battle to maintain a safe distance from her continues to fade. Even though we’ve never spoken about any feelings, caring for her in the aftermath of her crisis obliterated any proverbial walls between us.
Something shifted in that moment but I’m still unsure what it means. Either way, I welcome her presence as she passes Larry snoring like a freight train.
I volunteered to take the floor knowing it would be worse for Larry. Now as I stare at Shelby’s darkened form, I wish I had fought for the bed because she deserves more.
When she pauses over me, I accept all the layers of resistance melting away before I hold out my hand. She drops to her knees before falling against my chest and I wrap my arm around her back as she snuggles into my warmth.
It’s been a long time since I held a woman in my arms. Strangely with Shelby it doesn’t feel awkward or new. It feels exactly right.
She smells of sunshine and lemons, a scent that follows her everywhere, despite the alternating supplies which should change that.
Breathing her in, I commit it to memory although I bury the reasons why to enjoy the moment.
By now, I figure she’s drifted off to sleep when she whispers, “What’s your last name? ”
“Monroe,” I say, burying my fingers in her silky hair. “Yours?”
“Talbot. Shelby Anne.”
Is that her married name? Does it matter? She’s here in my arms.
I may not know everything about her, but I know she wouldn’t entertain a damn thing with me if she loved her husband. The realization eases something I didn’t know I was harboring, and I glance down with a smile when Shelby looks up.
“Your favorite meal?” she whispers.
“Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. My mom made it the best.” For once, speaking of my parents doesn't create a painful void and I know it’s because of Shelby.
“You?” I ask and she props her chin on her hand before scrunching her nose.
“I guess enchiladas? Do you drink milk in your coffee?”
We’ve known each other for such a short time that the mundane details of our lives never came up. Her attempt to get to know me now leaves me strangely speechless and after clearing my throat, I say, “Nope, I like it straight.”
When she scrunches her nose again, I close my eyes with a smile. She feels so good in my arms. I could lay like this forever.
Is this feeling an end of the world phenomenon? Will it change the longer we’re around each other? I don’t know but I don’t want to think too hard about it because every moment counts these days.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into the quiet, breaking me from my thoughts.
“For what?” I ask, brushing a lock of hair out of her face.
She truly is stunning with those blazing blue eyes and pert features, but I think more than anything, I’m attracted to the fighter that lives below her skin.
She may have moments of doubt, but I see that woman fighting to break through, and I can’t wait to meet her, knowing she’s the reason that I didn’t just lay down and die that first day.
“Now you have to wait, to find your family,” she says.
It’s true. At this point they may have moved on, but I can’t regret it and say, “I’m not. Sorry, that is.”
We drop into silence after that and when her hand curls over my heart, I place my palm over top, interlacing our fingers together. She’s exhausted, I know she is, but she’s resisting, and I smooth the hair back from her face, before giving in to my own desire and placing a gentle kiss on her nose.
“Sleep," I say and miraculously, she does. I do too, the first real night's rest I’ve gotten since this nightmare began.