Flesh 01 (3 page)

Her focus remained fixed on a point above his head. He didn’t need to look. He knew what she was staring at so wistfully – the gruesome hole in the ceiling. Her own perceived gateway to freedom. That bubble needed bursting. Obviously she’d been holed up in the attic since the shit hit the fan, given the state of her.

He waited while she deliberated.

Daniel sucked in some much-needed oxygen. Why had he held his breath? That was dumb.

Eventually, she blew a strand of hair out of her face, her throat moved, and she gave a bare inch. “Ali.”

“Hi, Ali. I’m Daniel.” He smiled, and like the turning of the tide, about an ocean’s worth of tension eased out of him. “Well, I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

She gave a brief bark of laughter, or perhaps a cough. The house was dusty. It made it hard to tell. “Friends don’t hold friends hostage. General y speaking.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Friends also don’t let friends live out their days in a stinking, dark, dusty hole. Or so I’ve heard.”

She pinned her lips tight and turned her head away, making him feel ten types of asshole. Too bad.

There was a message to be delivered here, and he could not afford to fail. He couldn’t face going back to being alone. Could not do it. Boy didn’t that mess with his whole “man as an island ” theory of a lifetime’s making. “Ali, I know things are scary, but barricading yourself in here alone isn’t the answer.”

“Real y?” She glared at him. It was a queenly glare. His girl pulled it off with aplomb, no matter the grime. “Living in a dark, stinking hole got me this far.”

“Granted, but the worst is over. I’m not saying things are a party out there, but they have calmed down.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, her voice highly skeptical.

“Hear me out.” Her brow flinched for a moment, but at least he had her attention. Until she craned her neck and frowned at what his finger was up to mid-torso – the torso in question being hers. His digit was drawing circles around the dip of her bellybutton. Endless circles. They both watched his finger go round and round, dawdling over soft skin in a lingering caress.

He could have sworn the thing had a mind of its own.

“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me.”

Which, he had to admit, was fair enough. Maybe enough boundaries had been messed with on their first day together.

“Sure, sorry. Didn’t even realize I was … Yeah, never mind.” He moved the hand back to his leg and let his fingers fidget on safer ground. They wouldn’t stop moving, a sure sign of nerves.

“So. Life outside,” he began. A sore subject, to be sure, but he had to sell it. “You realize situated on the edge of the city is a bad place to be? Inner city is thick with infected, but further out here in the ‘burbs you’re going to cross paths with other survivors.”

“Oh, you think?”

“Be nice,” he said. “Now, I’m guessing the people left over are going to be a mix of the lucky, like you and me, and the odd bastard handy with a weapon and happy to do what they need to get by. I’m guessing by now food and water are getting scarce for you. You can’t stay hidden, can you? Not if you don’t want to starve. You also know it’s too dangerous to go out on your own.”

“I’ve done okay.”

“You need someone to watch your back. Can’t do that on your own.”

She tucked in her chin and said nothing.

“I’m not saying you didn’t do good getting in here and staying put through the whole meltdown, but it’s time to move on, Ali. I was thinking of heading south-west, find a nice rural area and set myself up, be self-sufficient.” He would be self-sufficient alright, him and his hand, if she shot him down. More important things were at play here, though, because eventually, she would mess up and be dinner for the hungry horde. The thought made his heart kick over painfully. The infected were growing restless as pickings grew slim, branching out from the thick of the cities.

Soon enough, her little corner of suburbia would be overrun, if her own lack of food and water hadn’t since made her flee.

“I’ll grow my own fruit and vegetables, use solar panels for power. I was a mechanic, so I’ve got a good basic knowledge of al sorts of things. Sky’s the limit.” Daniel nodded, pleased with the sound of it. Plausible, warm and friendly.

Please God, he had to have won her over.

Instead she sighed. And it was long, drawn out and mighty fucking irritated. When women sighed like that it never boded well for anyone involved. “We discussed this.”

“Huh?” He propped himself up on an elbow, bewildered. “No, we didn’t.”

“Fingers.” Ali jerked her chin at the hand currently stroking her thigh, toying with the inner seam of her jeans, generally making itself right at home.

“Sorry … my bad.” He jerked his hand up, then paused. Amongst the dirt and dry stains on her jeans, something caught his attention.

Dread slammed through him. The damage sat directly above her knee, and it was fresh. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.” Daniel clenched his teeth and ignored the sick feeling building in his belly. “How did you get it?” When she hesitated a second too long he lost his cool completely, something rumbled in his throat and his voice rose to al new heights. “Now, Ali.

Tell me now. How did you get it?”

“I didn’t get it from one of them, okay? It was a nail or something going under the fence. I’m not infected. Stop yel ing at me,” she growled straight back at him, her gaze fierce. “Asshole. Get off me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank fuck for that. I’m sorry, but I had to know.” The minute he lifted his leg up off her, she tried to scurry away, scrambling backward on hands, butt and feet, crab style. The grip he had on her pants didn’t let her get far. “Take them off. That needs seeing to.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Don’t give me that. You want me to lecture you on how easily infection sets in? How fast?” He scowled, clinging to the raggedy hem of her jeans as if she was his safety blanket. Her gaze flicked to her feet and his followed. One solid kick from those boots of hers and he would be in a world of pain. Important, given how clearly unhappy she appeared to be. “Please … I mean.”

The melting-glass glare and the jut of her chin relented, somewhat. Good enough.

“Anyway, you need a bath.”

Her neck and face flushed, as the muscles around her mouth moved. The play of colors beneath her dirty skin fascinated him.

“Can you get out of my face for one minute?”

“Sorry, sorry. Though wouldn’t you feel better cleaned up? Then we can see to that scratch.” Daniel gave her his most trustworthy face, hooking a finger in a hole above the hem of her pants leg in case of failure. “Maybe some new clothes, too? What do you say?”

She sniffed disdainfully. “I wasn’t sure if they hunted by scent, or … it was a safety precaution. Messing around with hair and make-up didn’t seem wise, given the circumstances.”

“I don’t think they track by scent. Mostly they seem to rely on sight and sound. And, sorry again, but as emergencies rate, you having a bath is definitely one.”

Her brows reached for the sky. “You are such an ass.”

“But an honest one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“No. Not really.” Gray eyes inspected the worn flooring with great care. Far more than it deserved. “Alright, but I’l deal with my own hygiene issues.”

“I appreciate your willingness to cooperate. In that same spirit, you need to know that I’m sticking to you like glue. Where you go, I go.” She opened her mouth to refute, but he got there first. “Nothing dubious, I promise. I’ll turn my back, won’t even peek. You can trust me.”

“The house is locked up. I don’t you need you watching my every move.”

He shoved his free hand into the space between them, palm up and empty. “Ali, nothing is certain these days. Nothing. Consider it a necessary safety precaution because this can’t work any other way. We need to stick together. I’m sorry, but shyness isn’t a good enough reason for your premature death.”

His girl frowned, stopped, frowned some more. Finally, she delivered one short nod of assent. “Okay.”

“Seriously?”

Her chin moved in the desired direction, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Not even a little.

She was nervous. The panic attack, running away, all of it. If he had stopped to think with his big head as opposed to the little one, he might have moderated his behavior some time back, but no. He had been gung-ho the whole way.

He was an ass.

But, he was the ass committed to keeping her in one piece.

“Good. Great.” He released the death hold he had on her pants, something surprisingly hard to do; his fingers stiffly refused to uncurl.

“Why don’t I turn my back and let you get out of those jeans so you can get your knee cleaned up? I’ve even got a couple of extra t-shirts if you need, so you can cover up. I’m not going to see a thing. How does that sound?”

Her shoulders dropped. “Fine.”

Turning his back was harder than letting go of her jeans had been. All sorts of conflict rose up inside him. The girl had no voodoo powers, she wasn’t going to disappear into thin air because his eyes weren’t on her. Christ, he was a case. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face. His hands shook.

The tiny hal way led to a poky lounge with a couple of bedrooms situated off it. Not much chance she would run off on him. Surely.

He strained his ears but heard no sounds of a swift retreat taking place behind him. With the shotgun still in the kitchen, care of their mad dash, she had no weapon at hand. Behind him, the sound of shuffling told him she’d climbed to her feet and ditched the dirty, bloody jeans.

Still. You never knew. So he snuck a peek over his shoulder.

“Hey!”

He spun to face her at the tone of outrage, a hand held out to halt her not even happening escape. Ah, fuck.

The poor girl struggled to pull her pants back up. Going by the pained expression on her damp and pale face, doing so didn’t come remotely close to being fun for her poor sore knee.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay, let’s try again.” Daniel shoved a hand through his hair, grabbed a handful and tugged. Holy cow did she look upset. Her eyes were once more skittish, searching for an out. His fault. “Ali, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m excited to see you. No excuse, I know. I also seem to be a tad bit terrified that you’re going to disappear on me. So I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cheated.”

She showed him her teeth.

“I know. I deserve that, but stil …” She hesitated, and he smothered his own snarl of frustration. Buried it down deep in his belly where she couldn’t possibly hear it and use it against him. “Ali, play fair. Give me a chance here.”

“Why should I?” Ali sank back down onto the floor. She set her hands on the linoleum behind her, leant back, sort of Playboy Bunny-style, minus the thrusting out of her breasts. That was just his dirty mind filling in the gaps. Mostly, she appeared tired, cranky, run down. But it didn’t matter. He stared at her, stunned. Poleaxed al over again by the pale, dirty woman who had shoved a gun in his face.

Aah, man. Forty-one was far too fucking old for love at first sight. He might as well throw himself at her feet and be done with it.

Except he’d pretty much already done that. It hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

She definitely looked twitchy again, like she would be making for the nearest exit at the first opportunity, sans him.

“Ali, if I break your trust again, I’ll go fetch the shotgun for you myself. What do you say?”

“I say you’re full of it.” It took some time, but eventually she met his gaze. There was a lot going on behind those gray eyes. Too much. He stood in the proverbial cold, coming close to having the door to her heart and mind slammed shut in his face.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Please.”

Her body sagged, and her head hung low. “And say what? I was fine on my own.”

“I know, I know. But for how long? Hmm?”

Nothing.

“All I want,” he dropped to his knees before her. She hustled back on her butt till she hit the wall. Those wide eyes, so full of fear, made his heart hurt. Without her trust he had nothing. “Al I want … is to keep you safe.”

“For what?”

“A long time. A very, very long time.”

“Right.” She partly turned her head, putting him in the corner of her vision. “You want a lot more than that.”

Daniel held up a hand, stopping the notion right then and there. “But! But. Listen to me here because this is important. Not without your permission, Ali. That’s the crux of it.”

She watched him like he was a barely chained beast for several long moments, probably weighing his intrinsic value, or who the fuck knew what. He sat silent, out of tricks for now, worn down to his last argument. He held his peace.

“Okay, I promise I won’t run. For now. Not that I’m committing to anything.” The last she tacked on hastily to the end.

“Absolutely.” His heart turned giddy cartwheels inside his chest. Clapping would probably be going too far. “God forbid.”

“Up to and including agreeing to play Adam and Eve with you.”

“Uh-huh. Got it.” He nodded eagerly but kept his face bland. “But you know you just put the visual of you wearing nothing but fig leaves in my head.”

She blinked.

“Sorry.”

Ali careful y pushed herself up the wall, got to her feet. He followed. Not licking his lips.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he enquired.

Gray eyes darted to a door down the hal way, but her hand pointed to another.

“There?” He gave the door indicated a nod, but kept the other in mind for later. It and whatever lay behind it. “Okay, let’s have a bath.” He paused. “I meant that in the singular, by the way.”

“How are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Ali rushed the razor over the back of her calf, swallowing past the lump in her throat, feeling stupid and self-conscious.

Gussying herself up because of the idiot, because his jibes had hit home. She had actually let him get to her. Stupid.

And her hands were shaking again. The combined effect of the oversized male lounging against the doorframe with his back turned and the infected banging around outside set her nerves to highly strung.