Awakened Desires (16 page)

Embarrassment filled her mind. She knew Gunther must have heard her. How was she going to face him after that? She laid still for a moment, completely rattled between her peak and humiliation of the situation. She could only hope that he was asleep and if he wasn’t, maybe he thought she was dreaming.

I heard Quinn’s door crack open while I was sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a gardening book I found on a shelf in the living room. “Morning.” Her voice was leery when she spoke.

“Morning.” I smiled at her as I slid the book away from me. Bloody hell, she was beautiful in the morning sunlight. I didn’t want to let on that I heard her erotic moan shortly after we went to bed. “Did you sleep well?” I smiled inwardly knowing that, more than likely, she did. After a moan like that, who wouldn’t?

“Sort of. It’s kind of weird to be squatting.” I laughed a little at her terminology. It definitely didn’t fit her. She was far too proper to use such odd terms.

“It is a bit weird, yeah? You hungry?”

“Famished.”

I bet you are, love.
When I half-smirked, she looked away immediately. I pushed the bag of food over to her, watching her pick through and carefully select a few things. She pulled out a protein bar and a bag of trail mix. “Never really been a fan of these bars, but I am thankful to have it,” she murmured as she tore open the wrapper.

“I hear you. Without a doubt, they’re better than the alternative.” She pulled a piece off with her fingers, looked at it disapprovingly, then popped it her mouth.

After she chewed and swallowed like a proper lady should, she asked, “Anything on your agenda for today?”

“No, not really. Thought we would veg out here for the day. Get some rest. I’ve been traveling non-stop since all this started. I’ll go out tomorrow and hunt down more supplies for us.” She nodded.

Rolling my neck, I was feeling more than ready for a donation, but I couldn’t ask her. She was too far down the rabbit hole already to pull a “need to check for the virus in your blood” bullshit, which was my original plan—collect samples of blood and pocket them for drinking later. It would just make her suspicious. I was prepping myself for the coming surge. The headache was lingering on the horizon and it was going to be a nasty one.

“Are you feeling okay? You look like you might be coming down with something.”
Ha! Wouldn’t she be fucking surprised to hear what sickness I had?

“Uh, yeah. I’m all right. I think I feel like this because I haven’t slept much in a while. I mean, I slept last night some, but…”

“You look tense. I’m a pretty good masseuse,” she offered.

I heard tires screech in my head. Did she really want to touch me? If she did, J.T. would certainly spring up and wave with a wink and a nod. “You know, I am quite tense. My shoulders and neck are stiff.”
Wait, did I just say stiff? Fuck.

She stood up and walked over behind me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Why was so I nervous? Bloody hell, I felt like a hormonal teenager.

Quinn placed her hands on my shoulders and I tensed up a little more. “Just try to relax.” Her voice poured through me like a fine scotch.

“Right, sorry. I’m not used to being treated this way.” I wiggled my upper body, trying to free up the additional tension.

“No?”

“No…”
Said too much once again, arsehole!
Quinn began kneading my shoulders and neck. Holy fuck, she hand strong hands.

“You are knotted up tight.”

Tight? Christ.
I felt more blood rush down south. “Yeah.” I let out a low groan. Her hands felt so good on my achy body. They were made of magic, slowly working their way to the exposed skin on my neck. I felt her jerk away.

“You’re freezing!”

“I don’t have the best circulation.” My words came out like an automated response.

“Do you want to grab a sweatshirt or something?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” She placed her magical hands back on my neck and I let out another groan.

“Feel good?” I heard her smile through her words.

“God, yes.” I closed my eyes, enjoying the glorious attention.

No one, in my entire life, ever touched my body in a loving manner. Their touch was only about sexual pleasure, never to make me feel better when I was down. For a good fifteen minutes, she continued to be attentive from my upper back to my neck and all around my shoulders. It was the most amazing feeling ever. I was a bit sullen when she stopped.

“How’s that? You feel better? Your muscles seem looser.” She grabbed my wide, corded shoulders and twisted them back and forth.

“Yes. Thank you. Much appreciated.” She wrapped her palm around my neck and started to walk back around the table. I grabbed her hand and tugged her back, her beautiful brown eyes looking back at me. I wanted to kiss those pretty lips and thank her in the only way I knew how. But when I saw the worry cross her face, I apologized and let go of her. Cue the awkward silence.

“That’s okay.” She sat back down and continued to eat. “So, what are you reading?”

“Oh…just grabbed a book off the shelf in there. It’s about gardening.” I laughed a little with a high degree of embarrassment.

“I was always horrible with gardening.” She held up her thumb. “Black thumb.” I smirked at her. Bloody hell, she was a doll. Funny, beautiful, hands made of magic. I bet the deepest parts of her body were silky and tight. I could lose control with her.
Stop it!
That woman was turning me into someone different, and I didn’t know who it was.

“Yeah. I’m right there with you.” I tapped on the book. “Maybe this will provide us the knowledge that we’ll need.”

“We will need seeds first.”
I have plenty of seed. Shit! Cut it out, Erikkson!
I rubbed my face. “You look… Are you sure you’re all right?”

I let out a sad laugh. “As good as can be right now. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“I understand. Well, since we’re hanging out together, I’m a good listener if you want to talk.”

Jesus, she wanted to listen to my problems? No one ever wanted to listen to my personal issues. I was blown away. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness but, for now, I think I should keep my issues to myself.”

And with that, our conversation was non-existent for the rest of the day.

The next morning, I got up and Quinn was already messing around in the kitchen. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet, just my cargoes—which hung low on my hips—socks, and boots. I did have my shirt thrown over my shoulder. She had a few packs of food out on the table already, along with two cups of water with tea bags steeping in them on the counter. That blew me away. No one had ever made me tea before, unless it was at a restaurant or that bloody cafeteria back at the complex. But, even then, they just handed you hot water in a cup and tossed a bag at you. Quinn actually thought about what I might want. No one ever cared about what I wanted. I swallowed hard, feeling myself shattering.

“Morning,” she said with her back to me as I entered the kitchen. “I found a box of tea on top of the fridge, so I put water out in the sun to warm up. It’s not tea temperature, but…” She turned around and saw me standing there half-naked. I knew I looked good. There was no denying that. Her mouth opened slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she should talk or lick my body. I prayed for lick. Then she quickly turned back around, stammering, “And…I-I don’t know if you drink tea.”

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, I do.” I ran my hand over the hair that was growing in on my head, feeling bashful for the first time ever. “That’s fantastic. Thank you.”

I pulled out the wooden chair and sat down. Deciding I better put my shirt on, I eased it over my aching body. She turned back around and slid a cup in front of me.

Clearing her throat, she sat down across from me. “So, you are going to head out today?” she asked, working to make small talk.

“Yeah, for a little while. We need more supplies. I’ll leave you with an additional magazine that I want you to keep in your pocket. Plus, you know where the rest of the stash is located.”

“What if the owners come back?”

“You know, I don’t think that’s going to happen. They seemed to have cleared out everything—clothes, bedding, food.”

“True.”

I drank my room temperature tea and ate the food Quinn laid out for me. Her kindness shook me straight to my core, seriously rattling me because she was absolutely brill. Having no idea how to handle it or how to reciprocate, I was a bit glad that I was taking off for the day so I could clear my head.

I headed back to my room and loaded my pack up. As I walked back out, Quinn was standing in the living room, watching me.

I softly smiled. “Here’s that other magazine.” I showed her again how to unload and reload, hoping with everything I had that she wouldn’t need it. Leaving her alone for whatever amount of time I would be gone worried me. I wanted to make it back before nightfall.

“All right, well…stay safe,” she murmured.

“I will. I’ll try to be back before sundown. Thank you for your kindness.” I didn’t want to take my eyes off of her.

“Thank you for saving me.” With a quick nod, I headed out to my truck.

As soon as I got into the truck, the pain had me cringing. My back and hips were screaming. Feeling the desperation for a fix, I scrubbed my face with my shaking hands. Luckily I succeeded in hiding my need from Quinn. She didn’t notice the lack of green in my eyes.

Looking for some pleasant relief, I pictured Quinn’s face and thought about how loving she was toward me. Something sparked. For the first time in ages, I felt warm in my cold-blooded heart. I had no idea what the fuck I was feeling but, bloody hell, I liked it.

More like I fucking
loved
it.

I started the truck and backed out of the driveway.

Quinn watched Gunther from the front window of the house. Fear ran through her body knowing that she was going to be alone for a period of time. She didn’t like the fact that Gunther was going out on his own, either. For reasons unknown, she felt safe around him, even though she probably shouldn’t. The desire was strong to go with him, but she was afraid they would lose the only place that seemed to exist for them to stay.

She was afraid of the gun that was given to her, but he wanted her to use it if needed. A moment like that may come sooner than she was ready for.

Watching him, he cringed in pain then ran his hands over his face before he started the truck. Thinking there was something wrong with his health, she wondered if maybe he had some sort of terminal illness, but she felt it would be inappropriate for her to pry. As long as it wasn’t contagious, she was willing to help him with whatever it was he needed, considering he saved her life. She owed it to him.

Feeling alone, her body trembled as he backed the truck out of the driveway. It was the worst feeling in the world and she hoped he would come back. Quinn didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts another day.

She wanted to tell Gunther what had happened with Carrie and Max, but she didn’t want to burden him with her problems. Tears flooded her eyes when the memories struck from just a few weeks ago. The whole scene replayed in her head like it was happening on a movie screen.

-October 2014-

It had only been a week since the outbreak had happened. Quinn had left Carrie, her daughter, for mere moments to go change her shirt after Max, her grandson, had spit up on her. Pausing at her dresser, she touched the wedding picture of her and James, remembering how happy she was the day they were married. Then how elated she was when Carrie was born. It was a difficult delivery, but they managed to get through it.

She glanced over at a picture of her daughter and grandson. It was a sad day when she found out her teenage daughter was going to become a mother. Knowing that she had made a mistake, Carrie was going to own up to it and raise her baby. Quinn decided that she would be there one hundred and ten percent to help her.

James was never home because he was always away on business. Days ago, he said he was going to go searching for supplies for Max, but never came back. She had hope that he eventually would. Her faith dwindled more and more each day he didn’t come marching through the front door.

Quinn walked back into the living room where Carrie and Max was minutes before. They weren’t there. She ran around their home, yelling for her. Nothing. Grabbing the shovel that was next to the front door, she dashed outside.

Carrie was across the street trying to fight off one of their neighbors, pulling Max from his hands. The next thing Quinn witnessed would be forever burned into her mind. The neighbor bit Carrie’s arm as she struggled to free herself from his grip.

“No!” Quinn screamed. Carrie was clutching onto Max. “No!” Quinn ran across the way and hit the neighbor with the shovel as if she was wielding a baseball bat. Then she jammed the shovel right through his head. Quinn dropped it and fell to the ground. She grabbed Carrie’s face.

“Mom…Max…” She struggled to speak.

“What, baby. Talk to me. You are going to be all right.”

“Mom…Max…” Carrie’s eyes flickered and her face began to lose what life was left in it.

“No, baby girl. No, don’t you die on me. You cannot leave me!” Just as she yelled, Carrie exhaled for the last time and passed away. Quinn clutched her and Max, holding both of them into her chest, and rocked their lifeless bodies. She cried her heart out.

Her only child was gone.

Minutes passed. Suddenly, she felt Carrie twitching, and she pulled away. When Carrie’s eyes opened, the putrid gray had overtaken her once beautiful brown, doe-like eyes.

“No!” she screamed and scurried to a standing position. Carrie slowly stood and snapped her jaw at Quinn. “Carrie…please. Carrie, it’s Mommy.” Quinn backed up several feet when Carrie let go of Max. He went tumbling to the ground. He didn’t cry, nor did he move.

“Max!” Quinn yelled as Carrie lunged at her. She grabbed the shovel again. “God, no. I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this!” But she didn’t want to watch Carrie wandering aimlessly or attacking others. Deciding to lure her to the backyard, Quinn continued to walk backwards toward their house, Carrie following—staggering and snapping her jaw.

“Come on, baby girl,” she cried. “Mommy is going to help you.” Carrie continued to stagger toward the very back part of their yard. “Please forgive me for what I’m about to do. I love you more than anything,” she whispered.

When Quinn was within striking distance, she closed her eyes then swung the shovel with all of her might. As it connected, her anguish and agony-filled screams traveled through the air.

It was so real in her mind that when Quinn saw herself hit Carrie with the shovel, she fell to her knees on the thread-bare rug in the living room. But then, like torture, the movie continued to play.

She opened her eyes to see Carrie on the ground, part of her skull smashed in. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry…,” she sobbed as she looked at Carrie’s lifeless body.

Shovel in hand, Quinn ran back across the street to Max. He was lying on the ground, still and quiet. She screamed until her throat burned seeing that Max’s body was covered in blood. Unsure if it was his own or Carrie’s, she pulled at his blanket and found the bite wound on his abdomen.

Quinn screamed for help, but there was no one around. Max’s graying body began twitching much like Carrie’s had. His gray face and lips began moving. She held him at a distance from herself and ran back to the backyard where Carrie laid dead.

She wasn’t sure how to take care of Max. In her eyes, what she did to Carrie was unforgivable. How was she going to live with herself having to do the same to Max?

Quinn laid Max, who was now violently thrashing around while snarling and growling, on the ground. She dragged Carrie to the wooded area just past their property line. Picking up piles of natural debris that were around, she covered Carrie up. Quinn walked back to where she had left Max.

“Oh, Max…I’m so sorry, baby boy,” she spoke through her tears. She picked him up, his back facing her, and held him straight out, walking back to where she left Carrie. As she laid him down next to his mother, he flailed around, trying to bite her.

There was no humane way of doing what she was about to do. She pulled a couple evergreen branches off the trees and covered Max with them. Once again, she picked up the shovel.

-November 2014-

As the movie played out in her mind, Quinn saw herself raise the shovel above her head, vomit raced up her esophagus, making her snap back to reality. She burst out through the front door and leaned over the ailing porch rail, vomiting. When the last heave subsided, she wiped her face with the back of her hand and headed back inside, locking the door behind her.

Her body shook all over. She decided to go lay down and cry her eyes out. It was the only way she could deal with it. She hoped that she could settle herself down before Gunther came back through the door.

If
he came back through the door.

Crossing the grassy field to get away from the farm he grew up on, Gage paused to throw up. Emotionally, he was dead. After the retching finally ended, he stood and raised his face so the morning sun could hit it. Maybe that would warm the chill that radiated from his soul.

Stretching, his spine cracked as he extended his interlaced hands high into the air. The restless sleep in the barn the night prior didn’t do wonders for his nineteen-year-old, already overused back.

Gage was a tough farm boy with a side of psycho mixed in. His muscles were taut and large from pushing cattle around and working the land. From all the sun exposure, his skin was golden brown, and his tousled brown hair had natural copper highlights.

And his face? Cold and hard like marble.

After years of abuse at the hands of his father, he learned to shut everything out. But the last circumstance made him die completely on the inside, leaving him empty and hollow.

Once the outbreak hit their area, he murdered his bastard father. It felt good to rid his older sister, Shawnie, and himself of the horror that they lived with day in and day out. He figured if things ever righted themselves in the world, he wouldn’t get blamed for a suicide set-up.

Shawnie was his rock growing up, raising and protecting him as best she could. She was five and Gage was three when their mother passed away after years of being sick with cancer. With their mother gone, they lived in fear of their father’s anger, rages, and abuse.