The Wilds Read online

  I stepped completely in front of Bookie this time.

  “I agreed to work with you. Not to listen to your almighty commands.”

  “Dal, what the hell—” Bookie started saying from behind me until I cut him off again.

  “I’ll do whatever I want,” I said to Dax, making sure I was the sole target of his anger. If I got him angry enough at me, he’d most likely forget about Bookie.

  “We’ll see about that.” Dax turned on his heel and walked in the house.

  “Dude, he’s pissed,” Bookie said.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t think that went so bad.”

  Chapter 21

  I turned off the shower and yanked the curtain back to find Tiffy standing there, waiting for me. Luckily, I’d gotten used to her unexpected visits enough that a scream didn’t well up.

  “How long have you been here?” I grabbed my drying cloth from where it hung nearby, as I became immediately self-conscious over her appraisement.

  “Do you realize you have unusually large mammary glands for someone so lean?” she asked, her eyes on the vicinity of my chest.

  Even though the cloth was now covering said glands, she was still staring. “Yes, I’m very aware of how lumpy I am. Did you need something?” I asked, hoping there was a purpose to this visit and it wasn’t going to become the norm to find her outside the shower, maybe with an entire bush burning next time.

  “Dax wants you. I volunteered to locate you. He’s waiting in the back.”

  It was almost dusk. Were we going somewhere or was this the reckoning for last night’s digressions? I’d been wondering how long it would take to pay for what he considered crossing his lines. Dax hadn’t struck me as the type to not get payment eventually. It wasn’t something I’d been told. It was something you just knew without asking.

  “Okay, thanks.” I maneuvered my way around her, grabbing my things as I headed back to my room. Tiffy’s bathroom shower visit was slightly less creepy than the “hovering over me while I slept” visits, but just barely. I really did like the kid but she was an odd one.

  I threw on the work clothes, in case we were going somewhere, and headed down to the back of the house. Dax was waiting on the back porch like he was there to collect payment.

  “What’s going on?” I knotted my wet hair into a bun as I walked over to where he stood.

  His eyes appraised me but his expression was blank; his emotions tucked back behind the cement wall once again. But I might have been getting better at reading him, because I could feel the anger boiling within.

  It would’ve been easier if he ranted and raved. He was giving me nothing to rage against, nothing to retaliate over. The only thing I could do was wait for the hammer to drop, and it might drop pretty heavily but I’d take the blow willingly. I’d directed Dax’s anger toward me, since I wouldn't have Bookie paying the price for helping me.

  “Come on,” he said. He didn’t wait for an answer and started across the yard, expecting me to follow.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I realized we were heading toward one of the larger buildings and not where he’d usually have a bike waiting in the front. It was definitely payment time.

  “You think you’re ready to handle yourself in the Wilds?” he asked.

  Hell if I knew, but I certainly wasn’t going to confess that I might not be, not after his reaction last night.

  “Yes, I do.” I didn’t consider any of this his business anyway. He’d busted me out and now he acted like he owned me. I didn’t have time for that nonsense.

  I needed to be out there. There were explosives to stockpile and plans to work out. That was the thing Dax didn’t understand. It didn’t matter if I was ready for any of this. I had to be ready and I’d handle whatever came.

  “Prove it and I won’t say a thing about you leaving this place without me.”

  Shit. I’d walked right into that one.

  “What proof would you like?” Whatever proof he required, I’d manage. If I failed, it didn’t much matter anyway. I’d still do what I had to. I had people waiting for me and every day that went by they probably lost a little more hope that I’d be coming back. The idea of anything else being taken from them made my stomach hurt. They didn’t have much left to lose.

  He stopped in front of the building that looked like a smaller version of the barn and paused before he opened the door. “Knock me off my feet a single time and—as long as I don’t need you—you’re free to come and go whenever you want.”

  I eyed him up and down. Even in the loose-fitting pants and t-shirt he had on, he looked like he could take me on in duplicate and not break a sweat. My gaze stopped at the gloating look on his face. Oh, so now he was ready to be a human being with feelings? “You’re almost twice the size of me.”

  He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “You don’t get to pick your opponents in the Wilds.”

  How could I argue that point? He was right. But he wasn’t saying I had to be able to beat him, just take him down once.

  I could do this. I had to do this. If not for freedom’s sake then to get that damn look off his face. He was better when he was blank. I didn’t know why I ever wanted expressions from him. His sucked.

  He pushed the door open wider, as if beckoning me to my own funeral within. “You ready?”

  My shoulders straightened as I tried to milk another inch of height out of my spine. “For anything you’ve got,” I said, and walked into the building looking cockier than I felt.

  I stopped and looked around. There were mats laid out on the ground and some stuffed bags hanging from beams, which looked like they were just asking for a set of knuckles to pound into them.

  He walked farther in before he stopped about ten feet away from me. He shook his head and force-fed me another obvious expression. This one was along the lines of you are so young and stupid. As if that weren’t clear enough, he had to verbally expand on it. “Don’t you understand? You aren’t a character in some Moobie book. When you die, there’s no fucking sequel or close call. This code you have is idiotic. The only thing you should worry about is staying alive. But you don’t get it because you’ve never had anyone teaching you anything. You grew up and the closest thing to a role model you had were these stupid books, but it’s time to wake up.”

  Out of that whole tirade, the first thing that hit me was how did he know about my fascination with Moobie? Had Bookie told him? Nah, I didn’t think so. Then I remembered he’d read my file. I’d caught more than a couple of beatings over having hidden Moobie books. That mystery solved, I could move on to the other matter.

  “I’m not delusional. Moobie’s not real, I get that.” But it did hurt a little somewhere in my chest to fess up to it. Bastard. “But if I’m supposed to listen to people tell me that I’m too weak and I can’t do this and I can’t do that, that I should let my friends rot away in that hellhole, I’d rather have a fictional mentor, because the real ones are failing pathetically.” Then Tiffy and Fudge popped into my head. “And if we’re going to lay it all out, I think you’re full of it. I don’t think you’d leave your people there either, so cut the preaching.”

  He shook his head, shooting another look that I couldn’t read, although I knew I didn’t like it.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, clearly indicating his new look.

  He shot me another new look—a you really didn’t understand that—and then elaborated. “I’m me. You’re you. Big difference there. You’re not ready.”

  I put a hand to my hip and my chin inched up. “Maybe I don’t need as many years of practice as you did.”

  He let out a loud breath, or more likely an annoyed sigh. “You go. You die.”

  “I could’ve died when I got the Bloody Death. I could die tomorrow from a cold. I’m not going to become a different person just to squeeze out a few more days. I’m going to step up because they need me.”

  “This is exactly what I mean. You talk like you’re a fuckin
g character. You won’t go in there and walk out a hero and you won’t die a martyr. You’ll just cease to exist.”

  “It doesn't matter. If I don’t try, I won’t be able to live with the person left anyway.”

  I watched him, his cement crumbling a little around the corners of his psyche again. “You act like I’m crazy, but you do get it. I can see it.”

  He was standing there one second, and then a flash of movement before an arm was across my chest. Flat on my back a second later, I was sucking in air like I’d never breathe again, and wondered what the hell had just happened. No warning. No hey, you ready for this?

  “What was that?” I asked a minute later after my lungs stopped being flapjacks in my chest.

  He walked over, feet beside my shoulder, looking down. “That’s all you’ve got? I figured you’d fight back. Not drop like a stone.” He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “You can’t save anyone. You can’t even take care of yourself yet.”

  Anger got me to my feet before I’d even fully reinflated. Even though I’d just landed flat on my back, this still felt nothing like when one of the guards had taken a shot at me. Dax had taken me down but that was it. He hadn’t landed a kick to my ribs once he’d put me there.

  I did a little hop back and forth and then moved my head from side to side, trying to crack my neck in vain. I meant business and I’d get the best of him one way or another.

  “Try it again, now that I know what’s coming,” I said.

  He circled me. “You think your enemies are going to tell you when they’re going to attack? You think the people out there are going to not kick your ass because you tell them it isn’t fair?”

  I turned with him, keeping him in sight. “Just stop your blathering and come at me already.”

  He lunged and I dodged just in time, then my legs came out from underneath me and I landed on my ass.

  He circled around. “Don’t let your target out of your sight. You need a few minutes?” he asked, but in a way that made it clear he’d be calling me a sissy if I did.

  This wasn’t like the compound, where if you tried to fight back you’d have every guard in the place jumping into the fray. This was one-on-one combat where I hadn’t lost before I’d even thrown a punch, and I was discovering very quickly that I enjoyed it, so much that even being outmatched wasn’t detracting from it. I felt completely alive, like I was high on the elixir of life. It also made me wonder what sex would be like. Would it compare to this?

  “Nope. Do you?” I asked, getting to my feet again.

  He threw back his head and laughed. I knew we’d picked up some spectators. I saw the light of the door increase as a couple people came in to see what was going on. Yet when he was standing across from me, it seemed like we were the only ones there.

  I watched him move and I knew just when he was coming for me. I ducked quickly to the side and then low as I tried to round on him from behind and sweep his legs out.

  I failed, but I came close. I was starting to realize that not only did I like this sparring business, but I might be a natural at it.

  He laughed like he thought it was funny I’d almost taken his legs out. “You almost got me.” He was smiling as he said it, like he would’ve been even happier if I’d succeeded.

  His smile did bad things to me, like short-circuiting my brain and making other parts of me flutter. I paid for it too when he dropped me again, because it also threw off my concentration.

  Lying flat on the ground, for the first time I really doubted my sanity. I couldn’t understand why I was finding this whole thing so damn entertaining. I was going to be one big bruise tomorrow and I still wanted to keep going.

  Dax reached his hand down. I took it and he gave me a lift to my feet. It was the first time he’d done it since we’d started tonight, and there was something more there than just a hand up. It was as if he was encouraging me to keep playing with him, that he was enjoying this as much as me, as if we had found common ground between us.

  “Come on,” he said. “You’re getting close.”

  It was ridiculous to me why, but the encouragement from him had me taking chances I wouldn’t have. I moved in to try and take him by surprise, and instead of him going down, he had me pinned against him, one arm trapped between us and the other in his grip behind my back.

  “Say it,” he said, his face inches from mine.

  I shook my head.

  “You know you’re beat. Say it. Concede.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll concede defeat when I’m dead.”

  “You won’t be able to do shit then, let alone concede.”

  “I guess it’ll never happen, then.”

  His lips were soft but his stare was intense, like I could see the fire that raged underneath the cold exterior.

  We were in a standoff. He loosened the grip on my arm but didn’t let me go. Something flickered in his gaze and his eyes moved to my lips, and this overwhelming desire for him to kiss me surged up.

  I tried to stomp it away but I couldn’t help the feeling from welling up in me. I was happy for the flush the activity had brought to my skin, as I hoped I wasn’t as transparent as I felt right then. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d turned me down; I still wanted him. But he had turned me down because he was taken and I couldn’t forget that.

  “Maybe you should take a break,” I heard Becca say in the distance. I hadn’t noticed Becca make her way into the barn, but it reminded me again that we weren’t alone. I looked at the small crowd now gathered, all watching us.

  It was as if he’d just remembered as well. He stopped asking for a concession and dropped my arm, taking a few steps back quickly.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” he said, and made his way out of the barn.

  Show over, the barn emptied out quickly behind him, including Becca. I dropped to the mat below as I tried to figure out what had really just happened between the two of us.

  Chapter 22

  Becca laughed. “You’ve got to keep adding flour,” she said as I was trying to free my fingers from dough. She’d arrived before dinner and the next thing I knew, the two of us were elbow deep in flour, making some special biscuit recipe handed down in her family.

  Becca’s laugh was warm and open, and sounded like she’d had plenty of practice. It made me feel even worse about throwing myself at Dax. Then I started thinking crazy thoughts, like maybe she knew how Dax was starting to affect me.

  I had to it get out, woman to woman. It had to be said or I’d never get past this uncomfortable feeling. “Becca, remember how I showed up at Dax’s room?”

  “Sure.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Dax had the unfortunate timing of walking in the backdoor at that precise moment. Well, wasn’t that just the special sauce to make this moment perfect?

  He moved into the kitchen and was pouring himself a drink, barely more than five feet away from where we were making the biscuits at the table.

  “Um, I didn’t know that… I didn’t mean to… I wouldn’t have…” I started tripping over words. It was tough to explain you wouldn’t have thrown yourself at a man when that exact man was close enough to hear, and more than likely listening.

  Her eyes shot to his back and then to me. “I know. It’s all right,” she said, smiling.

  I could see why he liked her. She was all smiley, bright and clean. The worst memory she had was of someone dying from natural causes in her arms. If I were a guy, I’d be all over her. Why would Dax want someone like me when he had her?

  “Like this.” She pushed the dough this way and that, covering up the conversation we had been having as Dax made his way across the room.

  When he passed by us, I saw her eyes go to him but he seemed oblivious. I might be inexperienced in romance but I knew love when I saw it. It was all there written on her face, and she had a particularly open one. It was a strange pairing, the two of them on different ends of the spectru
m, but maybe that was why it worked. Dax needed someone like her to counteract how closed off he was.

  While she was preoccupied with Dax, I glanced back out the window to where Bookie was fiddling with one of the bikes in the last of the day’s light. I hoped he was getting it fixed. If that bike were broken, we were done for. We were going to sneak out today for a run, but the damn thing hadn’t started and it was the only one available. There weren’t that many bikes to begin with.

  “I noticed you and Bookie are getting along really well,” Becca said.

  I hadn’t realized how obvious I was being, but luckily she’d misunderstood the interest. “Yeah, he’s nice.”

  “I think he likes you.”

  “You think?” I asked. Although I didn’t want to bring the subject up, guys weren’t into me. Hadn’t I just proven that again with Dax? “He seems like he’s nice to everyone.”

  “I think he’s sweet on you,” she said.

  I looked out at Bookie again just as he was looking up. He gave me a thumbs-up through the window and went back to work. A girl could do a lot worse than him. But the situation would be different with Bookie than what it might have been with Dax. With Bookie, it wouldn’t be two people using each other. It would be sweet and real and hard to walk away from in a month’s time.

  Dax, on the other hand, wouldn’t get attached. There would be no hard feelings when I left. It was better that he was with someone like Becca, who would feel enough for the two of them. I didn’t have that kind of emotion available to give away, not right now.

  I looked back up through the window, wanting to check on Bookie’s progress. He shot me a nod and a smile. We were back in business. He gathered up his tools and was rolling the bike toward the shed when Dax stepped in front of my view.

  “Bec,” he said, and then nodded toward the door.

  “Keep going, Dal. I’ll be right back,” she said, and patted my hand still working the dough.