Chapter 12
Kate entered the commons area, her head swiveling around until her gaze landed on Yara talking with an older woman. The short, gray-haired woman carried a stack of blankets, and they shared a laugh just before Yara stepped past her, walking in the opposite direction.
“Yara!” Kate called out. Yara’s stiff, confident stride carried on as Kate’s attempt to get her attention fell short. “Yara!” Kate shouted again, and this time, Yara stopped where she stood, turning her head to the side. Kate jogged a few steps until she was beside her.
“Hey, Yara. Sorry, I was just wondering if you’ve seen Nick,” Kate said.
“Yeah, he passed through here a little bit ago. Check the gym,” Yara answered with a curt smile.
“Thank you,” Kate said.
Kate walked back across the open square through the groups of people chatting and exchanging goods.
She turned a corner and opened the double doors leading to the training building.
The hallway past the doors was ongoing, cavernous, and rife with linoleum.
It reminded Kate of the school gyms, and for a moment, she swore there was a hint of sweat and basketball rubber mixed into the odor of the air.
Kate opened the third door down, the boxing ring with its red ropes coming into sight first, followed by the sounds of something thwacking against muffled plastic. When she pushed the door open to its entirety, Nick was in the far corner, sparring with a punching bag.
With his knees bent slightly and his hands curled into fists, Nick circled around the bag with measured steps. Huffs of exerted breaths escaped him each time he took a deadly swing. Every few strikes were broken up with a kick, sending the punching bag swinging around in the air.
When Nick saw Kate from the corner of his eye, he straightened up. The tension and focus loosened from his expression.
“Training for something?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, gotta stay fit. You keep me on my toes,” Nick answered, grinning. Kate frowned.
“It’s worth it though, right?” Kate wondered, her tone tinged with insecurity. Nick’s grin widened. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head. Heat radiated from beneath his clothes, damp with perspiration. A trickle of sweat slid down one temple.
“‘Worth it’ doesn’t even come close.”
Kate beamed. Every time doubt encroached on her self-esteem, Nick knew exactly how to shatter it.
“Marcus was looking for you. A shipment of weapons and gear came in. He was hoping you’d help sort things out.” Kate informed.
“Cool, I’ll head to him in about ten minutes.
Just let him know if you see him,” Nick responded.
Kate nodded, smiled, and turned to walk away.
Before she could take a step, Nick grabbed her wrist. Gently, he pulled her back to him.
His blue eyes blanketed her, washing over every detail and inhaling her essence, her presence.
Strings of words, fragments of sentences piled up behind Nick’s lips.
He would train every day. He would go back to the battlefield, any battlefield.
He would thrust himself into the theatres of war if it meant keeping Kate safe, keeping her to himself.
Instead of voicing thoughts that predicated ominous scenarios, Nick pressed his lips to hers, silencing his doomsday notions in an interpretive dance that should deliver the same dedication he longed to translate to her.
Kate softened in his embrace, returning the kiss with fervor until she pulled away and patted his chest.
“You’re stalling. Go help Marcus,” Kate laughed. Nick cut her a playful glare and rolled his eyes.
Kate exited the gym with her lips glued in a giddy smile. The part of her brain that released ugly, skeptical thoughts was on fire. This was all just a game of survival. They were still filling the shoes of their roles, making themselves impenetrable behind the farce of an undeniable love.
The way Nick looked at her, though—it was fiery, explosive and devastating.
No one had ever looked at her that way before.
Maybe if a man had reflected the sight of her in their eyes with anything other than convenience, or lust, or guttural need, she would have something to compare to Nick’s gaze.
But this was uncharted territory, and Kate doubted everything.
Kate entered her and Nick’s small barracks apartment. When she turned to face the beds they had pushed together against the wall, a web of panic crept across her skin. A man sat on the foot of the bed, arms folded and elbows resting on his knees. Waiting. For her.
He stood, towering over Kate, and approached her until he was inches away. Her suspicions were confirmed now that she was face to face with him. A low, eerie laugh reverberated from his chest.
“Never thought you’d see me again, did you?
Don’t you remember me?” He touched Kate’s chin, which was now soaked in tears as she trembled.
She tried to train her eyes on the floor.
A wave of terror and past traumas hit her, nearly knocking her to her knees.
“It’s gotta be fate, right, baby? Us both ending up here. ”
“G-get the fuck out, Norman,” Kate stuttered. The man tilted her chin up so that her eyes, runny with tears, could face his cold, hungry ones.
“I agree. I’m much more surprised to see you. Figured you’d have rotted in that cage by now. Glad you didn’t, though. Now, we can have fun any time we want.” The man nestled his bristly chin against the skin of her cheek. Kate’s stomach rolled, somersaulting until acid rose up in her throat.
“He’ll kill you,” Kate choked out. Norman chuckled in disbelief.
“Oh, your little soldier boyfriend? What are you gonna tell him, babe? You gonna tell him how many times I had you cumming, that pretty cunt swallowing me whole? How about all the times I slid into that tight ass?” Norman whispered into her ear, his hot breath and daunting tone sickening Kate until bile bubbled up and spewed onto his shirt.
Norman backed away, revolted by the brown liquid dripping down the front of him.
“Disgusting bitch,” he murmured. Norman grabbed Kate by the shoulders and pushed her away from the door. She stumbled to the floor, slipping in more of her vomit. “This isn’t over. I’ll be visiting again really soon.”
The door slammed shut, and Kate sat against the cold floor tiles, reeking of puke and sobbing.
Once Kate was able to pull herself together, she cleaned up the vomit from the floor, changed her clothes, and left the small barracks room to dispose of the evidence of the incident.
She joined others in the public square, glancing at Nick nearby as he unloaded ammo boxes and crates of weapons.
Kate perused the stands of goods, chatted with other residents of the fort, and ate a small meal.
Physically, she was blending in. Mentally, Kate was planning.