After the Crux (2 page)

In the early years, Crux Virus survivors had partied and pillaged. Now, with most of the remaining food supplies gone, those too stupid or lazy to learn gardening spent their lives hunting down those who had learned to fend for themselves. So few women had survived the virus that most ended up in living situations not fit for animals. To this day, Jenna knew how lucky she and Dorian had been when the much bigger Ross had stumbled into their hiding place in that basement.

“He’s still trying to shield us,” she whispered.

“He wants you.”

Her head snapped up. She thought of denying it, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t lie to Dorian. Ever. She’d caught a few longing looks, had seen Ross staring at her bare midriff when her T-shirt rode up. She’d always considered him her family, and hadn’t thought twice about running around in skimpy clothes, until she’d clued in. He didn’t have a sexual outlet. It was cruel to taunt him with something he didn’t have.

She bit her lip. Did she want to have this conversation with Dorian? Truth was, she’d thought of changing the dynamics of their relationship with Ross. Often. Especially because she’d seen Dorian watching Ross too. She had no doubt Dorian loved her, that he desired her with every fiber of his being, but she had this feeling…

“You know he wants you, don’t you?” he repeated, his eyes so dark brown they glittered like polished onyx in the low light left by the one remaining lamp. They matched his hair, silky black, with long, luxuriant curls she fought him over cutting. He compromised and wore his hair shoulder length, though he griped about the strands getting in the way of his work. His face, so finely sculpted and masculine, deserved that cloud of soft silk. “Jenna, did you hear me?”

She nodded.

“He’ll never make a move. He thinks of us as his kids, which is—”

“Ridiculous. We’re five years apart.” She leaned back, stared at the ceiling. “Every damn time he goes on a supply run, I know he hopes to find another woman, one less damaged than Georgia. I can’t stand his loneliness, Dorian.”

“Me neither.”

“Dorian,” she whispered, touching his arm so he’d look at her. “I’ve seen the way you look at him too.”

Dorian wasn’t one to hedge. His black hair slid down over one eye as he bowed his head. “I’m not sure it’s like that.”

“But you wouldn’t have a problem if it was?”

“Of course not.”

“He’s taken care of us, provided for us. And now, he’s trying to protect us from something he thinks is wrong when it’s anything but.” She threaded her fingers with Dorian’s. “I saw his expression earlier. Saw his face go white…saw the desire he thought he shouldn’t be feeling. The guilt—”

She broke off, choking on a sob that came out of nowhere.

Muscles flexed in Dorian’s strong arms when he tugged her onto his lap. “We’ll do something about this.”

She snuggled into his neck, loving the spicy, masculine scent of him. “I saw something—something fleeting—but it was there.” She took a deep breath. “I think maybe he wants you too.”

Dorian went still, held his breath. At the notch of her thighs, where she straddled his lap, she felt a stirring. She leaned back, grinned. “Oh, you like that idea.”

He nodded, watching her so closely, it felt as if his mind probed hers. “He was just a kid when he started taking care of us. You and I flowed naturally into a sexual relationship…it just feels like he should be a part of that.”

Excitement burned in her stomach and her grin stretched wide. “This isn’t going to be easy, but I have a feeling it’s going to be fun.”

“We just have to get him to agree.”

Chapter Two

“I’ve found heaven.”

Ross looked up from under the hood of their souped-up semi-trailer, where he was replacing the fuel filter. Now that true cold had hit, they’d have trouble starting the truck if they didn’t keep the filters fresh. Biodiesel did have a few drawbacks outside of the time it took to grow, grind and cook the corn they used for theirs.

“Heaven is home on a warm couch watching old movies.” Preferably while curled up with Dorian and Jenna. “It’s certainly not this frozen ghost town in Texas.”

This had been a particularly desolate supply run. They’d found most of the things needed, but there hadn’t been one survivor. Just one town after another filled with rusted-out cars, vine-covered buildings and barely passable streets. Tree roots had overtaken most roads and showed no signs of relinquishing their ownership. Just getting from one town to another took three times the stretch it had in earlier supply runs.

Weeks of witnessing nothing more than the footprints of humanity deadened something inside Ross, made Jake grow quieter. Just yesterday, they’d found a macabre jumble of human bones. They’d searched the entire small town looking for the person who’d piled them up, and found nothing. They knew people were out there. Finding them was the tricky part. The smart ones hid—just like them.

Jake grinned, looking more cheerful than he had in days as his dark brown hair flopped over his taped glasses. “My idea of heaven? An intact eyewear shop with my prescription. But this is even better. A fully stocked and un-ransacked wine cellar.”

Ross straightened and stuck his cold hands in his pockets to warm them. His gloves were too thick for work under the truck’s hood. “Really?” Finding booze was hard enough—it had been the number one looted item after the Crux hit—but actual wine? “Big cellar?”

“Not too shabby. The door was hidden in the back of a closet behind piles of trash.”

Ross nodded. It made sense that Jake would have looked. Early survivors hadn’t piled trash in closets—they’d thrown it outside. Trash in a closet indicated hidden supplies.

“Not just wine either. I found a supply of seed packets. They’re probably not good, but we could take them to Dorian, let him see. Also, DVDs.” His cheeks, ruddy with cold, twitched as he tried not to laugh. He lost and the air frosted his breath. “And porn.”

“Wine, seeds and DVDs. Plus porn. You sure someone isn’t protecting that stash? Sounds like a survivor to me.”

Jake’s grin disappeared. “It was. He didn’t make it.” He held his finger to his open mouth and mimicked pulling the trigger.

Regret filled Ross. They came across survivor suicides so often they shouldn’t have affected him anymore, but they all did. He wished he could find them all. The good people. More numbers in their group meant more protection. “We’re really lucky to have our family,” he murmured, though he didn’t need to say it aloud.

Jake knew that all too well.

Ross had come upon Jake and Lynn in Oklahoma while on a supply run. They had boarded up their house, and from the bodies scattered around the windows, had been fending off the raiders for days. Ross had nearly been shot, but he’d backed off and stuck around over a week. He’d watched them, knowing they were roasting in the boarded-up house in the middle of summer. He’d fought off a couple of assholes who’d talked about Lynn’s long red hair and slim form, then finally used a remote-controlled toy truck to send Jake and Lynn a note. He’d told them he had no interest in the woman and had a family of his own with plenty of room for more in their big, self-contained home. They had no reason to trust him, but for some reason they had.

He’d spent another two weeks getting to know them before he’d trusted them enough to take them home to Dorian and Jenna. Four years had passed, and Jake and Lynn rounded out the family in a way that made it feel complete.

“Ross, there are maybe over a hundred bottles down there. We could open them on special occasions.”

Ross grinned. “Truck’s full. Where will we put them?”

“We could take a couple of boxes for now. Dig another cellar this winter. I’ll build the wine racks. We could come back in the spring. I’ll camouflage the entrance.” He bit his lip. “I’m going to pick out as many as I think I can fit. There are wine boxes down there, too.”

“Convenient.”

“Guess he had to bring them home somehow.” Jake grinned and took off.

He’d be gone for a while. Jake’s love for wine was a big source of amusement at home. His first attempts to make his own had been so bad, Jenna had called it fruity rotgut. He’d gotten better once Ross had found books on the subject, but the thought of a decent red made Ross’s mouth water.

Chuckling and excited about some real wine for a change, Ross ducked back under the hood. He had everything repaired, clean and running when pain struck him across the spine. He only had time to glimpse the baseball bat coming for him again as he fell to the ground.

“Elijah wants to play in the snow.”

Jenna groaned, knowing the kids had come to her because she’d been out in it earlier, fishing. She certainly didn’t want to go back out. Cold snaked under her blue wool sweater even here in the warm kitchen as she stirred a huge pot of fish chowder.

“Elijah, huh?” she teased Gwen. “Guess you have no interest in it yourself.”

Gwen grinned, but didn’t answer. At ten, she was already bold and somewhat manipulative. Her tendency to offer big hugs made up for it though—most of the time. Jenna eyed the bits of white fuzz peppering Gwen’s strawberry-blonde hair.

“What did you get into?”

“Nothing, I swear! I was helping Dorian in the greenroom and I held some fuzzy plant too close to the fan.”

Chuckling, Jenna picked up the bowl of crushed herbs Dorian had brought her for the chowder. She sprinkled a few teaspoons into the creamy, white soy base, then shrugged and dumped the whole bowl in. She liked flavor in her food, didn’t much like to cook though.

“How come Lynn and Georgia aren’t cooking?” Gwen asked as if reading her mind.

“Don’t know. They had something to talk about this morning, I guess.”

Gwen sighed, twisted her thin fingers together in annoyance. “So are you gonna take us out or what? Dorian gave Elijah a big carrot we can use for the nose.”

“Ah-ha, snowman time, is it? Why isn’t Dorian taking you?”

“He said you loved building snowmen, and would have the perfect eyes for him.”

Lynn laughed as she came into the kitchen. “Sneaky devil. I know you’re just now thawing out from fishing this morning, so I’ll take them.” She winked at Gwen. “As soon as I finish mixing dessert for later.”

Gwen gestured to the half-hiding, half-hovering Elijah to come out. Jenna had a major soft spot for the six-year-old and would have moved him right into her wing, but he’d bonded with Georgia when Ross had brought him home a month after finding her. No one knew what had happened to Elijah’s family or how the little boy had still been alive.

Georgia quietly walked into the kitchen and stroked her hand over Elijah’s black curls. He grinned up at her and Jenna spotted the missing tooth at the same time as Georgia, who offered up a dramatic gasp.

“It finally came out!” she said, grinning as the little boy held out his hand, palm up. “Guess we’d better alert the tooth fairy.”

Who was usually Ross.

Jenna frowned at the reminder. He should have been back by now. The snow was already inches deep and even with the plow they’d installed on the truck, the road up here was difficult once snow set in.

It was also why winter was Jenna’s favorite season. They all hunkered down into the bright, beautiful house and felt safe knowing most would never venture this far up the mountains in snow. It was such a far cry from the early, hard winters.

“Missing Ross?” Lynn asked.

“About as much as you’re missing Jake, I bet.”

“Yeah, thought as much.”

Jenna frowned and gripped the fat, wooden spoon tighter as she stirred the thick chowder. “He’s my family.”

“He’s family to us all.”

“I know.” Jenna laid the spoon directly onto the counter, knowing Lynn would immediately fuss and put a spoon rest underneath it.

Everyone knew the kitchen was Lynn’s favorite room and thank goodness someone liked to cook. Jenna’s repertoire was limited to chowder, vegetable soup and tea.

Of course, in this kitchen, cooking wasn’t really a chore. This part of the house was built above ground. High ceilings with skylights kept it bright inside, mahogany cabinets lined the walls, and a massive brick, two-way fireplace dissected the kitchen from the eating area. The island in the center of the kitchen boasted a shiny, black six-burner gas stove. Ross had brought home a subzero, massive refrigerator along with two deep freezers that nestled along one wall. They matched the black-and-beige speckled granite countertops.

Gwen and Elijah ran over to watch Lynn pull out the ingredients for her applesauce spice cake. It didn’t require eggs, and they’d canned so much applesauce over the summer, it lined the pantry shelves like an army.

They really had to find chickens in the spring run—most had died off without care and Ross said he had to go pretty far south to catch wild ones. They froze in the winter up here. Dorian had drawn up plans for an insulated pen if they ever got lucky enough to find any.

“I wonder why Jake and Ross didn’t come back before the snow.”

Jenna looked up at Georgia when the woman spoke. That she missed the men was a miracle, but no one could doubt her affection for Ross, Jake and Dorian. It had taken the men most of the year to reassure her they’d never hurt her. Georgia had really started coming out of her shell in the last couple of months, but she still rarely spoke.