Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1 (11 page)

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Authors: Michelle Mills

Tags: #ménage;post-apocalyptic;bondage

BOOK: Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1
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Chapter Fourteen

Thirty minutes later, the three men had managed to sort out their differences enough to handle standing next to each other without reaching for a gun. All four of them now stood in the university parking lot, in front of the biggest damn tour bus Rachel had ever seen.

“What the hell is that?” Adam groused.

The blond guy, whom Rachel had learned was named Trevor Mason—a surprisingly tame moniker for a man with a swastika on his neck and flaming tats shooting up both arms—hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets, puffed out his chest and smiled vividly. “
That
is Nickeltop’s tour bus.”

“Who?” Rachel asked out of the corner of her mouth to Adam. He shrugged.

“What rock were you two living under? Even I know who Nickeltop was. I saw them perform at the mid-state fair,” Christian said from behind her.

Christian—the tall guy Adam had elbowed in the face—had woken up and introduced himself as Christian Torosian, former head biologist for the California Department of Fish and Game. Now that he wasn’t pointing a gun at Adam’s chest, Christian seemed like a normal guy. He wore jeans, a striped golf shirt and tennis shoes. And he was hot. Not as outright sexy, jaw-droppingly gorgeous and edgy-dangerous as Adam and Trevor in their kickass boots and jeans. Christian was good looking in more of an I’m-smart-and-in-charge kind of way. Which was good too. Very good.

She glanced at all three men, still amazed to have been left alive with these three perfect specimens of masculinity. How did this happen? Apparently, in this new world there would be no potbellies, no receding hairlines and no man boobs. No, not here. It was like they’d been outlawed.

“What the fuck?” Trevor shook his head and interrupted her reverie. “Never heard of Nickeltop? That’s a crying shame.”

“Well, they must have been big,” Rachel told him, trying her best to help the four of them settle into a tentative friendship. “Because that bus is totally cool.”

The tour bus was black everywhere. Unrelenting. No markings, paintings or signs—nothing to stop the flow. Matte on the bottom, with glossy dark windows rimming the top. Both dangerous and elegant, it looked ready for its close up at a
Batman
movie premiere.

“This tour bus is the ultimate in comfort,” Trevor told them, as if he were narrating a program on the Travel Channel. “It has its own solar panels, batteries and generator, so there’s plenty of power. It’s a bitch to fill up with diesel, but once you do, it’ll go forever. There’s a lounge area, kitchen and two bathrooms.
And
a master bedroom and three bunk beds down the hall with their own TVs. Come inside, you’ve got to see this. Everything’s top of the line. It’s like a penthouse on wheels.”

Adam and Rachel locked eyes.
A penthouse on wheels?

“Well, let’s go in, I want to see this,” Rachel urged Adam, walking forward.

“She could have been with me this whole time living in luxury,” Trevor muttered as he passed by Adam. “I can’t believe you were dragging that girl around in that crappy-ass SUV, making her sleep in tents.”

Adam glared at him. “Shut your hole or I’ll shut it for you,” he replied in his scary-as-hell soldier voice.

“Just sayin’, dude.” Trevor shrugged, palms up. “Just sayin’.”

Rachel shook her head, ignored their posturing and eagerly went up the narrow steps, past the cockpit to look down the center aisle of the bus. Her jaw dropped and her breath caught in her throat. She halted, overwhelmed with shock and awe. Adam crowded behind her, pressing against her back.

Chocolate leather couches and chairs, gleaming dark wood cabinets and a state-of-the-art kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances ran in a line down one side of the bus. Guitars were mounted on each of the walls. All of them signed with scrawling signatures. It was spacious but cozy, an elegant yet edgy rock and roll mancave.

Unbelievable. It even smelled expensive.

“Watch this.” Trevor grinned. He hit a button and the walls and floors vibrated as the bus started to move. She gasped and stepped back. Adam wrapped an arm across her chest, held her tightly against him and braced a hand overhead.

“It’s got three slide-outs that double the square footage of the bus,” Christian shouted from the small kitchen. He’d already cleaned the blood off his face and pulled a blue ice pack out of the fridge to press against his hawk-like nose.

Trevor walked over and picked up a remote. “There are ten TVs on the bus, but this one is my favorite.” Her eyes were immediately drawn to a ginormous, paper-thin black rectangle recessed into the wall in the living area.

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

“We like to watch movies in here on Blu-ray HD, with surround sound.” Trevor flipped it on. Images flashed across the screen with such startling clarity, such intensity it seemed to burn her retinas.

Tears formed in her eyes.


Die Hard
.” She gasped. It was one of her favorites.

Her knees weakened as the action movie leapt across the screen and glorious pictures of her old world assaulted her senses. Rachel bit her lip and dug her fingers into Adam’s forearm. She turned her head, trying to look up at him. “I want to travel with them,” she said.

His chest rumbled against her back as he growled. “We need to talk.” Without warning, he whipped her around. Iron fingers wrapped around her upper arm and jerked her back toward the front of the bus.

“Wait,” she squeaked, her feet flying to catch up. What was he doing? One moment they were standing together calmly talking, watching a movie. And the next he was angry? What the hell?

Adam dragged her down the steps and they ended up outside on the asphalt, air bursting in and out of her chest. She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “Are you crazy? What was that all about?”

He got right in her face. “That was me looking out for your safety, since you don’t seem to give one shit about whether you live or die. But fuck, Rachel, I do. Even if you don’t, I do.”

That stopped her short, but she still burned with embarrassment over how he’d hauled her out of there like a teenager at an underage drinking party. She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you so mad? What did I do now?”

“Can’t you see what’s in front of your eyes? Trevor is a fucking ex-con. He’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.”

“That’s why you dragged me down here? To warn me about Trevor? News flash. I’m not an idiot. I’d already figured that out myself.”

His face hardened. “You said you wanted to go with them.”

“Yes, of course I want to go with them. Did you see that bus? It’s like Disneyland for adults. Who wouldn’t want to travel with those guys?”

“Rachel, that asshole is luring you in like a predator. You’re the only woman any of us have seen alive in weeks. Why do you think he insisted you see their bus? And why did you fucking let him talk you into it? He wants you for himself. Christian checks out. He was a biologist, married with kids. Normal. He’s mourning the loss of his family. I trust him, but the other one is a motherfucking asshole ex-con. Who knows what he’s willing to do to get you for himself.”

She softened her voice. “Adam, I know what’s going on. Right now I’m just a bright, shiny toy. We’ll eventually run into other women and I’ll lose my new-car smell. You’re the one who wanted to find other survivors—” she threw her hand out, “—well, here they are. We can’t dump them like trash. We’ve got to give them a chance. Both of them, even Trevor. He’s been decent so far.”

Adam raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean, he hasn’t said or done anything too outrageous.”

A deep sound rumbled in Adam’s chest.

“Really, he hasn’t.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Listen, if Christian was able to put up with him, we can too.”

“Or he’s just biding his time before he kills us all in our sleep,” Adam muttered.

Her lips twitched. “We’ve got to give him a chance, Adam.”

“I don’t need to give that motherfucker a goddamn thing. And why are you so damn trusting?”

“When there’s only a few dozen people alive in the whole state of California, each life becomes precious. We’ve got to try and make it work. Besides, did you not see the bus? Hello? That’s worth the price of admission right there,” she joked.

He didn’t say a word, his normally sparkling brown eyes flat and silent.

“What’s wrong? It’s the bus, isn’t it? You hate the bus? You hate Nickeltop?”

Suddenly, her back was against the metal siding. Tall, hard man on her front. She was starting to see a pattern here. Apparently, her future included time spent with her back against a wall and his lips on her mouth.

Not that that was bad.

“Only a fool would hate that bus,” he murmured against her lips, his hands on her waist. “But what I hate is the idea of another man looking at you, fucking you in his head, thinking he calls the shots. Only I do that. You’re mine,” he said. “I decide when you’re touched, who touches you, and how.”

A thrill raced along her skin and her stomach pitched. Was this the same man who a mere five days ago had declared he’d never touch her? She smiled and reached up and put her arms around his neck, loving the feel of him against her. Adam was her barrier, her Great Wall of China keeping all the horror at bay. God, she was lucky to have him. “The only way I’m traveling on that bus is if you’re with me.”

“You know this is going to get complicated, right? Three men and one woman? We don’t have to travel with them. We can leave right now. Just the two of us.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Survivors need to stick together.”

He cupped her cheek, those dark eyes searching her face. “I told you I want to share you, watch other men fuck you, but in this situation no one is going to touch you unless I want them to. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Right now, only
you
touch me,” she whispered fiercely.

He gave her a curt nod.

Trevor poked his head out the front door of the bus. “So what’s the verdict?” he asked, shattering the moment like a brick through a window. “You guys coming with us or not?”

“We’re going with you,” Adam shouted back over his shoulder. He turned back and looked into her eyes, “The
both
of us.”

* * * * *

Less than two hundred miles and one movie later, Trevor drove the bus past their first location.

“Stop. Stop the bus! This is it. Do you see the address on the mailbox? It’s right there.” Rachel squealed and bounced in her seat, filled with that same rush of adrenaline she used to experience each and every time she’d walked up to the main entrance at Disneyland. “Look you guys—” she pointed, “—I can almost see the house.”

She glanced around at the men she traveled with, none of whom seemed as excited as her. Jeez, sometimes they were such duds.

Trevor turned the tour bus into the long drive. The farm they’d been looking for came into view as they got closer. Rachel pressed against a window. There was a main house, a two-story yellow Victorian with white trim. Next to the house was a huge gray metal garage, and in back stood a red barn. And none of it looked old. The house looked like a new build of an old style. Or maybe it had been completely remodeled? Either way, it looked like it was in perfect shape.

“It’s a Victorian. I’ve always loved Victorians,” Rachel informed Adam.

“Good work, babe,” he smiled indulgently. He cupped the back of her neck. “So far, so good.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, feeling warm and tingly at the compliment. “But Christian found it too. I can’t take all the credit.” Christian had gone back with her to the map room after the bus incident, as she liked to call it. The two of them worked together well, combining what each had found separately to pinpoint this farm in the San Joaquin Valley as their primary target for relocation.

“I want to see the solar and wind power and check if any animals are left before we decide if we’re staying,” Christian said, ever the pragmatist. She glanced back at him and noted his emotionless features. Did the man ever smile?

“We’ll look around first, make sure it’s safe and meets our needs before making a final decision,” Adam agreed. Rachel noted how he didn’t mention possible survivors. It was sad how they’d reached the point where they didn’t expect to find any.

Trevor parked the tour bus in front of the main house and opened the door. Rachel shot to her feet, eager to get out and start investigating.

“You’re staying here,” Adam told her, pinning her with a hard stare that caused her knees to weaken. His hand on her shoulder, he eased her back down to her seat. “And Christian’s staying here with you to make sure you’re safe.” Christian nodded his affirmation and sat back in his chair. “Trevor,” Adam yelled to the front of the bus, “you’re coming with me. We’ll do an initial sweep, then come back and report.” Trevor gave him a chin lift.

“Bossy, bossy,” Rachel muttered under her breath.

Adam swatted her ass as he passed by her. “Aah’ll be back,” he said, doing his best Terminator imitation.

Rachel burst out laughing. God, he was
so
cute.

After the men left, she and Christian kept busy, using maps to plan out the route to their secondary location in case this place proved to be a bust. He was very serious, but she really enjoyed his calm, quiet company. He was so smart, so competent. It was obvious he had been part of the best and brightest in his field. It reminded her of working with her professors back at Davis.

“You know, we’re lucky we found you,” Rachel couldn’t stop herself from blurting out.

Christian grinned. “Trevor and I feel the same way about you and Adam.”

She suddenly felt inordinately proud that she’d made this man smile, if even a bit. So she decided to say more. “You’ve got mad skills that are great for the team,” she added.

He crooked an eyebrow. “Mad skills? For…the team?”

“Yeah, can’t you see we’re a team now? The four of us. Like, like…the
Fantastic Four
.”

“A team? Okay.” He leaned back. “What are my mad skills?”

“Well, you’re a biologist and smart with plants, animals, nature, right? You can be our scientist. Like the Hulk, but without the anger management issues.”

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