Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1 (27 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Adam announced their engagement to everyone the very next morning. Amidst the hugging and congratulatory remarks, he explained how they’d decided to postpone having an actual ceremony until he and Rachel could decide how to pull off a wedding ceremony in this day and age. Also, Adam and Rachel had privately agreed that Phoebe had been through something tragic just two days before, and forcing a wedding ceremony on her, as if they were unconcerned about what she’d been through and were blowing it off…well, it seemed wrong. Disrespectful.

But later that day, Phoebe pulled her aside. “Rachel,” she whispered urgently as she pulled the sliding glass door open. “Follow me. I need to talk to you.” Outside, the morning air was crisp, the air glistening before the midday heat.

Rachel looked at her, still trying not to cry over the cut across Phoebe’s lip and the bruise on her jaw.

“Okay. So when are you having this wedding?” Phoebe asked.

“I don’t know.” Rachel shrugged. “The ceremony itself isn’t important,” she lied. “I’m just happy that—”

“Bullshit,” Phoebe cut her off. “The ceremony is always important, and so is the dress.” She blew out an agitated sigh. “You’re putting this off for me, aren’t you?”

“Phoebe, it just happened,” Rachel whispered. “You need time.”

“No.” Phoebe swallowed and took a deep breath. “No. You don’t understand, Rachel. I haven’t wanted to talk to you about it because I don’t want to give what happened air time,” she whispered fiercely. “If I cower, if I hide, if I wallow in what happened, those bastards win. Do you understand? They win.”

Rachel’s jaw clenched and tears burned behind her eyes. She met Phoebe’s strong gaze and nodded.

“But, Rachel, if I help you plan a wedding, it will give me something else to think about besides what happened to me last night. I need this wedding. I need something else to do, so I don’t obsess over how those men raped me. You don’t understand. You’d be doing me a favor handing this off to me and letting me plan this for you. Did you know before I bought the boutique, I used to be a wedding planner?”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I was really good at it too.” Phoebe gave her a wobbly smile. “I was an assistant for a big-time wedding planner and then branched off on my own.”

Rachel smiled. “I had no idea.” She pulled Phoebe’s petite frame into her arms and gave her a tight hug. “Okay, if you want this, we’ll do it now, we won’t wait. And yes, please, please plan the whole thing. I’d love it because I don’t have the first clue and I know Adam doesn’t either.”

“Good. Besides,” Phoebe said with a shaky smile when they disentangled, “I know just the dress.”

* * * * *

Adam and Rachel were married a week later, because why not?

Everyone was there. All seven of them. It wasn’t like anyone needed to travel or fly in from out of state. No invitations needed to be sent, hall booked, or honeymoon planned. The idea of a long engagement was laughable. The entire wedding guest list included Trevor, Christian, Sebastian, Phoebe and Josie. Seven people including her and Adam. Seven survivors of Ruyigi Ebola, all banding together.

San Diego had had a population of over a million.

Phoebe pulled off a minor miracle.

Rachel was amazed that Phoebe had found not only an appropriate white cocktail dress for her to wear as a wedding gown, but a dress shirt and slacks that fit Adam’s large frame in such short time. Rachel knew he wished he could have married her in dress uniform complete with medals, ribbons and badges. And holy hell, she wished that too. Seeing him all decked out, she probably would have fainted at the sight. But two days later, Rachel admired the view as Adam stepped out onto the side lawn. He took her breath away. He looked straight out of the cast of
Ocean’s Eleven
. His dark hair slicked back, the throat of his blue dress shirt open, exposing his powerful neck. He was so handsome she wanted to cry just looking at him. And that scar he hated running down the side of his face. She loved it. He looked like a pirate. Dangerous. Sexy.

The way he watched her, the love shining for her in his eyes, the joy and happiness that radiated from his every pore. Seriously, she wanted to bottle this and sell it.

The best part was that for once she wasn’t beating herself up thinking Adam could do better, or that he’d only chosen her because she was a big fish in a small pond. She loved this new, confident person she’d become. It was so freeing, so refreshing. She proudly walked up the aisle, Sebastian holding her arm, giving her away. She knew Adam only had eyes for her, and that in reality he was lucky to have her too.

Rachel ran a hand lovingly down the skirt of her dress. It was so freaking awesome. Simple and sexy. The Jimmy Choo shoes, which were a white version of Adam’s favorite black fuck-me shoes, made her legs look a mile long. Her hair was full and wavy down her back, her make-up flawless. And she wore enough diamonds to make Elizabeth Taylor roll over in her grave. She knew she looked good and she was working it. And Adam watched her, hungry like the wolf.

Trevor officiated at the ceremony, which strangely enough wasn’t weird at all. They decided to hold the gathering at the side of the house where there was a wide lawn that was still green. The men had mowed the grass the day before and it looked as beautiful as a park. In the background were the Sierra Nevada Mountains and below, an orchard of orange trees. It was a beautiful setting. Everyone dressed up for the ceremony, Josie being particularly excited in her role as flower girl.

When Adam said his vows, Rachel teared up. She couldn’t help it. If only her friends and family could be here. If only Dad had walked her down the aisle. She glanced around at the smiling faces surrounding her. But this new group, this was her family now. They were all starting over. Everyone seemed as happy as they were. Rachel knew then that this wedding meant something to all of them. It was a symbol of their hope for the future. Not just her and Adam’s future.

Everyone’s future.

“You may kiss the bride.” Trevor grinned.

And Adam did. Oh yes, he did.

Trevor watched them kiss. Adam and Rachel held each other with unrestrained passion and tenderness. It was so intimate, so private he had to look away, his chest constricting. They didn’t even know he was there. They didn’t seem to remember any of the others were there.

“Goddamn fucking shit,” he muttered.

Adam and Rachel were in love. Ridiculously in love. Sickeningly in love. They were married now and she was pregnant. He sucked in a deep breath, tired of the happy face he’d put on for his friends. The well was about to dry up. Hell, it was already dry, and he knew it. He and Adam had fulfilled Rachel’s wildest fantasies, given her memories to last forever. But he was certain it was over. She’d found her man, and with her pregnant, Adam would be more possessive than ever. Not that Trevor could blame him. It wasn’t like the two of them had promised him forever. He’d known it wouldn’t last. He just hadn’t known it would end so damn soon.

Trevor shoved his hands in his pockets. Looked like he was back to jacking off. Alone.

That was it. He needed to find his own woman. Enough of this sharing crap. It never seemed to work out anyway. He was tired of being odd man out.

Sebastian, Josie and Phoebe were standing together, their own little family unit. Adam and Rachel were starting their own family. For the first time in his life, Trevor allowed the spark of jealousy he’d noted before in past relationships to come fully alive. It was all there. Burning-up, fiery-pits-of-hell-type jealous. He wanted this too. Wanted it bad.

Trevor glanced over at Christian, who stood in the back, detached from the group. He looked haunted, like the quiet man Trevor had found sitting on the front porch of the home Christian had shared with the family he’d lost.

Trevor walked up to him. “Wanna grab some expensive alcohol, get totally fucked up and drive around the countryside in the middle of the night bashing mailboxes with a baseball bat?”

Christian studied him with narrow eyes, quiet for a moment.

“Come on, dude. It’s time to let some of this shit go and live a little. Those two are happy. You and I are on the outs. Let’s go get drunk and break something ’til we feel better.”

Christian looked at the ground and then lifted his head and grinned. “Sounds like a damn good idea, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

One week later

Adam walked to the mobile radio unit he’d set up in the office at the back of the house, ready to start his daily broadcast. He did this every morning after his jog with Rachel and after he’d had breakfast. It had become part of his routine. He didn’t expect to hear a thing. He hadn’t heard much for the last two and a half months, so why would today be any different? But he still had to try.

He sat and felt that familiar tingle in his spine. That feeling that today might be the day. He flicked the radio on, listened to it power up, sighed and started his script, the same thing he said each and every day. Over and over again.

One minute in, he heard a voice. It was that message, the one he’d heard two times before but that had always cut off.

He sat up straight. “This is Lieutenant Adam Sanchez of the United States Marine Corps, please repeat?” He held his breath. This was where it usually ended. It had never gone further than this.

“Yes, hello. Is anyone out there? My name is Rebel. I’m calling from the Bay Area.”

He gripped the mic. “This is Lieutenant Adam Sanchez. We’ve got seven survivors here. How many do you have?”

“Oh my God,” the female voice answered. “I can’t believe this. I’m so happy to have found other survivors!”

He leaned back in his seat and bellowed through the open door. “Rachel? Get in here!”

He leaned forward and asked the first thing that came to his mind. “Are you alone? Do you need help?”

“No. No. We’re fine. There’s two of us, one man and one woman. We found this radio and turned it on for the first time today and heard your broadcast.” She sounded as excited as he felt. “We haven’t seen anyone else since the end. We thought it was just the two of us.” Her voice broke. He could hear her talking through her tears. “It’s so good to hear another voice, to know there are more people out there alive. Did you say there are seven of you?”

Rachel walked in with Christian and Trevor behind her. “What’s going on?”

“I just made contact with other survivors.”

“Oh my God!” Rachel gasped.

Adam continued to speak to the woman, gathering information. Josie ran in too, with Phoebe behind her. Everyone chatted excitedly in the background. Finally, he signed off when it had been established that the two groups would make first contact three days later on neutral ground in Casa de Fruita, a rest stop halfway between their farm and the Central Coast.

He leaned back in his chair. “So how should we do this?” he asked the group.

“I volunteer to go meet them,” Trevor offered immediately.

Adam nodded in affirmation. It was a good idea.

“That’s good because, I can’t go.” Christian sighed. “Someone has to stay behind to take care of the animals.”

“None of our women or Josie are leaving this farm, and I’m staying right here to protect them,” Adam said. “So, yeah, I agree it would be a good idea for you to go. I’ll ask Sebastian—” he looked at Trevor, “—see if he can go with you.”

“He doesn’t need to come. I can go by myself,” Trevor said.

“Trevor, you can’t go alone,” Rachel said in an anxious voice. “What if your car breaks down? What if they only seem nice over the radio but are actually evil? What if you’re stuck outside by yourself in the middle of the radioactive fallout we’re expecting to happen any time now? Anything could happen to you, anything, and you’ll be alone with no one to help you.”

Trevor’s lips thinned. “I’ll take that chance,” he told her.

Adam studied Trevor. Trevor met his gaze and gave him a barely perceptible nod.

“It’s the woman, isn’t it?” Christian asked. “She said she was there with a man. You know she might be his woman?

Trevor looked at him and shrugged. “I’ll take that chance too.”

“Trevor—” Rachel started.

Adam squeezed her shoulder. “If this is what he wants, he can take equipment, supplies, weapons. I can set him up, make sure he’s got what he needs.”

Rachel looked at Trevor with tormented eyes. “I’m sorry, Trevor. I’m sorry you feel you have to do this.”

Trevor shook his head. He looked at Rachel and then his gaze locked with Adam’s. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “You two are making a new life for yourselves, and I’ll make mine. Don’t worry. I have a future ahead of me. I just need to go out and get it.”

About the Author

Michele Mills grew up in California reading more romance, sci fi and historical fiction books than was reasonable for a girl her age. Eventually, this unhealthy obsession morphed into a passion for writing sexy romance novels. Michele believes happily-ever-afters make the world go ‘round and punishing kisses aren’t just the stuff of dreams. Most days she can be found teaching high school English to unruly teenagers and cooking for her husband and two sons. You can find her pretending to be professional on both Twitter
www.twitter.com/mills_michele
and Facebook or at
www.MicheleMills.org
.

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