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Love and Decay: Revolution, Episode Nine Page 6
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Page 6
Knowing I had to win this.
“They can’t stop me,” I said with confidence. “I do what I want.”
“Are you sure about that?” a dark voice called from behind me, and I suddenly stopped wondering where Miller was.
I turned around in my chair and found him leaning against the doorframe, clearly having arrived just in time to hear my stupid, cocky declaration.
He tilted his chin, challenging my determination, and I felt my entire body weaken again.
Just the sight of him in all his brooding, muscled glory had me wondering which battle would be harder to fight. The horde of Feeders upstairs? Or this man that would do anything it took to protect me?
Who was I kidding? I would take the Feeders any day of the week.
Chapter Four
“I’m going,” I told Miller flatly, my tone brooking no argument.
He glanced down the hall before stepping fully into the room. “You’re trying to kill yourself? Is that it? This is suicide, Page.”
I wrinkled my nose and ignored the chill skittering over my skin. The oatmeal had helped nourish me, and I felt better than I had earlier, but I was ready for bed again.
Rationally, I didn’t believe I’d have the energy to fight a bunny rabbit at dawn, let alone twenty Feeders. And yet the drive to kill what had tried to kill me, what had tried to infect me, was too strong to ignore. I needed revenge and retaliation. I needed to make Zombies suffer in the same way I had.
“This is redemption,” I told Miller and my brothers and anyone else who could hear me.
Miller shook his head and crossed the room in five longs strides. He hovered over me with all of his imposing strength and dark aura, and I wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and let him hold me.
But I couldn’t let him walk all over me again. I cared for Miller. Deeply. But he could be as stubborn as my brothers, and I knew that letting him win this one battle would seal my fate forever.
Miller’s eyes flashed with frustration, and he leaned into me, resting one hand on the chair behind me and one on the table in front of me. His body became a cage. His will became a leash.
His voice gentled despite his imposing body language. “I get that you feel you have something to prove. I do. But what happened to you isn’t your fault. You didn’t fail. You saved a man’s life, and you should be proud of that.”
His soft reassurances only made me more determined. I knew the bite wasn’t a reflection on me or my fighting skills. It was a side effect of the hideous world where we lived. I didn’t need him to tell me I was still a big girl. Not when my fingers itched for my blades, and my blood burned hot with the need to kill.
I held his gaze and told him, “I don’t feel the need to prove anything. I feel the need to kill the things that tried to kill me. I feel the need for some justice and retribution. I nearly died, Miller. If I’m proving anything to anyone, I’m proving to myself that I still have what it takes to destroy the infection I can still feel lingering in my body. I want to eradicate it completely so I can go back to being me. Wholly me.”
Some of the tension lifted from his shoulders, and the hard angles of his face softened with understanding. “The last time you left, you didn’t come back, Page. How do you expect me to let you leave again? Especially when you can barely sit up.”
A shuddering breath shook from my lungs. My hand fluttered to his chest, surprising me as much as it did him. But once I was touching him, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t pull away.
As overbearing as Miller could be, I needed him. Craved him. He was the one thing holding me together right now, and even though I didn’t want to, I understood why he felt the way that he did.
If the tables were turned, and he had just barely survived a Feeder bite, I would probably lock him up in a basement somewhere and forbid him from ever coming into potential contact with another Zombie again.
So maybe it was hypocritical of me to fight so hard for this when I wouldn’t give him the same choice.
But, frankly, I didn’t care.
So, I changed tactics. Pressing my hand to the rapid thumping of his heart, I appealed to that protective nature that wanted to keep me here, out of harm’s way. “Come with me then. Protect me. But don’t keep me from doing what I need to do.”
His lips flattened into a straight line and his dark gaze narrowed. He knew what I was doing. But he couldn’t stop himself from responding to my plea.
“I don’t like it, Page.”
“There are twenty Feeders above us, trying to sniff us out. They aren’t going to leave or wander off. They aren’t going to give up. Miller, we either take care of the problem or the problem will take care of us.”
His jaw flexed and twitched, but I watched his resolve shift. “You’ll stay with me?”
“You and my brothers and anyone else brave enough to go with us.”
Miller pushed on the table as he stood and then faced Harrison and King. “When do we leave?”
They shared an amused look before King answered, “Dawn. As soon as we can.”
Harrison winked at me. “I’ll gather the gang. Should be a good time.”
“No Colombians,” Miller growled.
Harrison saluted and marched from the room. Joss and King sunk onto the couch and entwined hands and feet.
Now that it was settled, I knew I needed to head back to bed. If I wanted to rain vengeance on my rotting nemesis, I needed a good night’s sleep and a miracle of strength and will.
“Can you show me to my room?” I asked Miller with a shy voice. “I think I’ve already forgotten where it is.”
He nodded and stepped back so I could rise. We said goodnight to King and Joss, promising to meet them here first thing in the morning, and left the commons area.
On the way to my room, Miller explained that my entire family took up this corridor. He pointed out my brothers’ rooms as we walked by and then showed me his was right next to mine. At the end of the hall, the Colombians had their own set of rooms, but Luke had placed Diego and his people in an entirely separate corridor. The scientists had rooms near where I’d woken up earlier today—the medical wing.
Nobody felt comfortable here, but at least everyone was settled.
For now.
Miller twisted the handle to my door and held it open for me. “There should be a key in here, for when you leave.”
Sure enough, on one of the floating shelves, a key hung from a black cord. “Ah.”
“I know you and Luke have history, but I wouldn’t trust these people, Page. They’re not like us.”
“I’m starting to realize that,” I mumbled. I brushed by Miller and toed my boots off immediately. “You have a history with him too, you know.”
“Luke?”
I suppressed a smile at the way Miller’s teeth ground together every time he was forced to say Luke’s name.
“Yeah, Luke. You guys were friends once upon a time.”
He stood in the doorway, not committing to either side of it yet. “I wouldn’t call us friends,” he argued. “We were never friends.”
I gave him a sarcastic look of disbelief. “I remember—”
“You remember a bunch of kids that were thrown together by terrible circumstances. We understood each other then. And we understand each other now. But we’re not friends, and we never have been.”
I raised my hands in defeat. “Okay, fine. Geez.”
He let out a frustrated sigh and yanked a hand through his hair. “Look, if you’re going to fight in the morning, you have to get some sleep. You won’t make it out the door if you’re this weak—”
“I know,” I cut him off. I didn’t need the lecture. My bed started calling my name as soon as I walked in the door. “I’m well aware of how weak I am.”
His expression shuttered closed, and I suspected it was in an effort not to argue with me. He took a step back, letting the door follow him.
“Wait,” I called quickly. Suddenly, I was brea
thless and impatient. I glanced around my room again, knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, to even close my eyes, without him.
I was too awake now to pass out. I wasn’t going to fall asleep accidentally. Not now that I felt better. Now that I could remember more vividly my dreams and the way the hunger hollowed out my stomach and made my throat burn.
“Stay with me,” I whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear the desperate plea in my voice. “Tonight.”
He stepped back into the room, but his hand didn’t leave the door handle. “You want me to sleep with you?”
A hot blush spread over my cheeks. “I don’t want to be alone,” I confessed. “Not after… not tonight.”
He stepped inside the room, the door clicking closed behind him. Yellow lantern light softened his hard features and cast his face in shadow.
I watched him toe off his boots, leaving them in a messy heap by mine. We were usually more meticulous, more prepared in case of any emergency.
But tonight, our world felt safe.
He felt safe.
In this underground haven, Luke had carved out of a world in chaos, I wanted to believe I could leave my shoes off and sleep through the night undisturbed.
Those thoughts felt like a fairy tale. Even if I could have this one night, a war raged outside these walls. Unrest and infection plagued every part of this world, and where there wasn’t death, there was tyranny.
There was pain.
Always pain.
But today I had woken up from being bitten for the second time. I had survived when I shouldn’t have. My family was safe and alive. I had a purpose, even if it had to wait until tomorrow. For tonight, I would let Miller hold me as I tried to sleep and we’d face every other problem in the morning.
He took a step toward me, his movements becoming familiar again, comfortable. I had been so lost in my own skin today that every other human felt like a stranger.
Until now.
He took my hand, led me to the bed and helped me as I reclined. And finally… finally, I felt like I was home again.
His back pressed against the wall and my back nestled against his chest. He only left our little warm cocoon once to pull a blanket over us.
“The light.” He made a move to get up, but I pressed a hand to his thigh, staying him.
“Leave it,” I pleaded quietly. “For a little while at least.”
He settled back down, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist. “You’ll go to war with a horde of Feeders, but you’re afraid of the dark.”
His comment wasn’t an insult. The pure curiosity in his voice told me he just wanted to figure this out. Why was I fighting so hard to get back out there? Especially when I didn’t need to?
Why couldn’t I go to sleep in the dark?
Why did I push him into letting me fight but beg him to sleep with me tonight?
I had as many questions as he did and just as few answers.
I licked my dry lips and gripped the blanket with two hands to keep them from shaking. “The fever was different this time,” I told him. “Or at least, I remembered more than I did the first time. When I got sick as a kid, I only remember being sick. I remember feeling worse than I had ever felt before. I remember being in so much pain, I thought I would die. But there were black holes of missing information. A lot of unconsciousness that I don’t remember. But this time, I remember a lot of it. Not things from the real world. Not you or Shay or my family. Nothing real. But the dreams I had…” I fell silent, wondering if they could be considered dreams.
Were my cravings just hallucinations?
Or did I really feel them?
My knuckles turned white in the lantern light as I clenched the blanket against my chest. “Miller, I’m not afraid of being awake. I’m not afraid of the monsters that I can see. I know I can kill them. I know what it takes to kill them.” I took a steadying breath, thankful that he couldn’t see my face and I didn’t have to look at him when I confessed this next part. “I’m afraid of closing my eyes. I’m terrified of the monster I can’t see. The monster living inside me.”
His arm curled tightly around my body, his hand snaking up between my breasts to press against my heart. His touch wasn’t sexual—or at least he didn’t intend it that way. His hand was splayed against my thudding heart, and I felt his intention to the very root of it.
“You’re not a monster, Page. There is nothing evil or insidious living inside you. Not a goddamn thing. You went through something horrific, and there are bound to be side effects. But you… you’re the only good and pure thing left in this world.”
I struggled with how to argue with him. He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. It would be easy to believe him.
It would be a relief to believe him.
But…
“Miller, I-”
“Page you fought the infection and won. You are not infected anymore.”
I rolled to my back, needing him to see me. Needing him to get it. He glared down at me, angry that I would even consider not believing him.
Or maybe it wasn’t as simple as that. Maybe he was angry that I wasn’t pure like he suggested. Maybe he was pissed that this world had destroyed me, just like it had destroyed every other good thing.
Maybe I was the one thing he thought he could count on and I’d let him down.
“I can feel it, Miller. It’s still inside me. I want to believe I’m getting better, but…” A tear slid from the corner of my eye. It rolled hot and wet into my hair. I didn’t bother to wipe it away. “My blood was red. You saw that today. I needed that proof as much as anyone, because it doesn’t feel possible. When I close my eyes, I see death and decay. I feel hunger I can’t explain. My blood feels like sludge in my veins, and my thoughts are tangled and confused. The only thing that feels like it’s mine is my heart. But it’s beating too fast, too hard. I don’t know if I’m going to survive this. I don’t know if I know how.”
His rough fingers spread across my cheek, carefully holding me. I felt fragile beneath his touch, breakable and barely corporeal.
When he spoke, his words were roughened and deep, pulled from his most private places. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “Always.”
“I can feel you, Page. You’re warm and alive. Your skin is as smooth as it’s ever been and even when you’re cold, it feels like heaven to touch. I feel this too.” His hand pressed against my chest, reminding me of how and where he held me. “I feel your heartbeat. How strong it is. How fast. And your eyes. They’re clear. They’re as blue as they’ve always been. Crystal clear and so deep I get lost in them and forget how to breathe. You are not a Feeder, Page. You’re not even half of one. You are fully alive and fully the girl I—” He cut himself off with a stuttering breath. I found myself holding my own, unable to think or speak or move until he finished his thought. “The girl I care so deeply for.”
My spirit hovered somewhere between sinking and soaring. I cared deeply for him too. I wanted to hear him say those words over and over and over. But for a second I had thought he was going to say something more and I—
I bit my lip to keep my thoughts from spinning out of control. “You don’t think I’ve changed?”
He leaned toward me, skimming his nose against mine. “I think you went through hell. But I know you came back. And maybe the infection changed pieces of you. Maybe this time it’s confused you in some way. But you’re not a different creature, Page. You’re a better, stronger, more beautiful human.”
I released the death grip I’d kept on the blanket and let myself skim my fingers through his thick, unruly hair. “How do you know all the right words to say?”
“They’re not the right words,” he whispered. “They’re the truth.”
I couldn’t help myself. He had eased fears that had started to consume me, that had set my thoughts and mind and soul on fire with an unrelenting heat that threatened to destroy me completely. I lifted my chin and kissed hi
s perfect lips—lips that were soft when they should be hard, lips that were warm and inviting when everything else about him was the opposite.
He kissed me back without hesitation. He dipped his head so I could rest mine on the pillow and he began the slow, intimate exploration of my mouth. Our tongues tangled in sweet bliss. Our lips moved against each other with a delicious give and take. And his teeth occasionally caught my bottom lip in a hungry tug that made heat flood my insides and curl low in my belly.
I had been willing to believe I was lost—that whole pieces of me had died or rotted or turned black with infection. But he had brought me back from the edge with hope and conviction. He wasn’t nice about it. He didn’t coddle me with careful words and false hope.
He gave me facts.
He gave me truth.
Then he kissed me like he needed these kisses to breathe. To survive. To keep his heart beating and his blood pumping.
And maybe I needed the same thing.
His mouth moved over mine greedily, intent on turning me into melting bones and quivering limbs. I clutched at his t-shirt, desperate to hold him close to me, to press my body against his, to feel every inch of him as he settled over me.
I was tired and weak, exhausted from a battle I had only just finished fighting. And yet I couldn’t get enough of this man, of his taste and feel and touch.
He slanted his mouth over mine, deepening the kiss. My fingers slid into his hair, holding his head so that I could have my fill of him.
His body settled completely on top of mine. I made an embarrassing whimpering sound as his muscled thigh slid between mine, resting in a way that made me feel safe, secure and desperate for something I was only just beginning to understand.
The hand that was pressed against my heart, moved to my waist and slid beneath my shirt. His touch burned against my cool skin as his calloused fingers pressed into my hip.
“Page,” he groaned, sliding his hand up my side, finding the ridges of my ribs.
His hand gentled with exploration. He seemed wild feeling my naked skin, and I took that as permission to do some exploring of my own.