Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“You’re worried about a hostile takeover?”
He shrugs and checks the street again through the gap in the curtains.
“It’s not like there’s going to be a grab on resources anytime soon. Everything is still out there. The only thing we’re short on these days is people,” I say. “Wait. Are you worried they could have been followed by those assholes from Bakersfield? Is that what this is about?”
“It’s one possibility.”
“Hmm. Today was a good day,” I say. “Making new friends, hanging out around the fire…it was nice. It doesn’t seem right, does it? To enjoy life when so many other people died? I know it’s just more survivor’s guilt, but it’s hard to ignore sometimes.”
“What would your mom want you to do?”
“To go on living my life to the best of my abilities.”
He nods. “I better go. I’ve got the first watch. Leon is taking second. We’re going to keep an eye out for at least a night or two.”
“I can take third watch. Cut down on the time you’re both out there.”
“Not until you’ve had a few more firearm lessons. Keep the walkie-talkie by your bed just in case, okay?” His gaze is as serious as can be. “If I see a few people, you grab Soph and get in a cupboard. More than that and you both hide down by the creek, wait for me, and we leave town.”
“I know the plan.”
“Firearms are stored in the locked cupboard out in the shed and the secure boxes in my wardrobe and on the top shelf of the pantry, okay?” he says.
“I talked to Sophie about not touching any guns. But we need to keep doing that regularly. Things she should and shouldn’t pick up. As previously mentioned, everything’s just out there lying around, ready and waiting.”
“Agreed.” His expression is still serious as he says, “Naomi seems to know her shit. Said her dad was a survivalist. Used to take her hunting and made sure she knew how to defend herself.”
“Okay.”
“He was the one who called and told her to isolate early on.”
My smile feels off for some reason. Like it isn’t sitting right on my face. So strange. “Sounds like you two had a good chat.”
“She’s been teaching Reema and Charlie some stuff. They’re going to start joining us at morning lessons,” says Dean. “Not with guns. I don’t want them near you with firearms until we know them better. But learning self-defense from a woman might be useful for you.”
“Right.”
“They’re all happy to help with the dead bodies and sorting out supplies. Avan wants to focus on putting together a decent medical setup. Just in case.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Naomi said—”
“For someone who doesn’t trust them, you sure seem to like them. Or some of them, at least.”
He freezes and his forehead fills with furrows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He studies my face like I’m a puzzle to be figured out. “Talk to me.”
“Really, it’s fine.” I give him the fakest smile in all of time and space. But it doesn’t hold and he doesn’t seem the least bit convinced.
This sucks. The confusion. The tangle of emotions in my head and my heart. Logically, Dean as an interest of my like or love is wrong and bad. However, all of the thoughts and feelings inside of me are so fucking complicated.
“Sit down a minute,” I say.
“You want me to sit down?”
“Yes. Next to me.” I contain myself to one end of the leather couch. “Here.”
The glance he gives me is wild. Rattlesnakes have been looked at with less caution. Scorpions have been cozied up to with more warmth. “What’s going on, Astrid?”
“There’s something I need to know.”
He just waits.
No point in half-assing this. For the purposes of scientific research, it must be done.
I climb onto his lap so that our chests are facing each other and I’m straddling him. And his expression is everything, with his mouth open slightly and his eyes as wide as can be. His hands immediately grip my thighs good and tight. Like he’s scared I’m going to try to get away.
“Don’t move,” I say.
He frowns. It’s truly his favorite face.
This position puts me a little above him in stature. He feels good and solid beneath me. And I can do whatever I want and touch him how I like. Talk about a power trip. It’s nice to be the one calling the shots for a change. His gaze takes in my face, my neck, and my chest. There’s a tension to him. An odd sort of wired energy.
I brush my fingers through his thick hair, pushing it back from his face. Then I trace the pads of my fingers over those oh-so-familiar furrows on his brow and the line of his jawbone.
He holds himself perfectly still beneath my exploration, letting me do as I please. Given how his shoulders are rising and falling, however, it takes considerable effort for him to remain still. To allow someone else to have control.