Odium II: The Dead Saga (17 page)

After the meet
ing, Mikey takes me back to the medical center to pack up my things. Becky gives me a quick once-over, with Emily assisting her. They check my various cuts and bruises, and she re-bandages my shoulder—even takes a look at the scar on my cheek. Not much she can do for that, though. Fallon completely fucked me over with that one.

In her previous life
she was a nurse, working in a hospital, which I find lucky. Upon further probing, I find that she was actually still in training. Apparently it puts people at ease to think she was fully qualified. Me? I’m just glad that she had at least some idea what she was doing when she patched me and James back up. Fully qualified or not, it’s a hell of a lot better than leaving us both to bleed out.

“Keep that dry.” S
he pins the bandage back in place and helps lower my T-shirt back down. “You’ll need to come back every day to get your antibiotics and pain relief.” Becky smiles. “I know it’s a total pain, but we don’t hand out full courses of antibiotics since it’s all on rations and basically, if you lose it, we can’t really afford to spare anymore.”

“It
’s not a problem. I’ll be coming to check on Emily and James every day anyway. I know how boring it can be lying there all day.” I roll my eyes at Emily, who laughs. She’s been intently watching everything Becky does.

“Are you saying my company wasn
’t riveting?” Becky says with a playful nudge.

“No,” I laugh. “Not at all.
I mean, yes it was, um . . .”

“It
’s fine, my bedside manner isn’t what it used to be.” She grins. “And I think he’ll be fine. I hope in a couple of weeks he can go back to his home, too, but he’ll need some help for a while.”

I hop
down from the bed. “So do I get the all-clear, then?”

“P
erhaps not the all-clear, but more the
don’t get shot again
orders, please.” She packs her things up and looks up at me through her lashes and smiles.

“L
ike that’s the sort of thing I get up to on my downtime,” I snark.

Becky heads o
ver to check on James’s IV and Emily follows. Emily continues to watch over Becky, asking questions and learning, I guess. I’m happy to see that she may have found her little place in this new world, maybe becoming a future doctor or nurse in the medical center under Becky’s guidance. It could be a great thing for her. I mean, we all have our parts to play, and I would be happier knowing that she was working here fixing people up instead of fighting deaders and gunning people down.

As we
’re leaving, Jessica is arriving, holding onto Rachel. Jessica offers me a smile even as she clutches her stomach and leans heavily on Rachel.

“Everything okay?” Mikey asks
, following my stare.

“Fine,
” Rachel snaps and barges past us. “We just drank too much last night.”

Mikey carr
ies my backpack—thankfully gore-free—across the frozen encampment as we head over to the housing units. Previously, each home was decked out for various families, but a lot of the facility has been closed off to save with electricity and such. There aren’t that many homes left in the open sections, and people are starting to bunk up and share. It’s at this point that Mikey looks at me uncertainly.

He runs a hand across the back of his neck, his nerves showing as a
warm blush rises in his cheeks, even in the cold air.

“Umm, I wasn
’t sure where you’d be wanting to sleep.”

I grin, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Sleep?” I ask with a cock of my eyebrow.

He looks at me, puzzled. “Umm, yeah. Like where do you want to sleep? The women’s housing is over there,” he points over to the left, “but there’s family housing, and couples’ housing. I wasn’t sure if, you know . . .” He trails off.

“What?” I shake my head
trying not to grin. “You weren’t sure, what?” I furrow my brow in mock confusion.

“You know?”

“No. What?” I tease, trying to contain my grin.

“I wasn
’t sure if you . . .” He takes a deep breath. “Jesus, what is it with you? You always make me nervous,” he says in a fluster.

I crack up laughing. “What? No other woman ever made you nervous, Mikey?
Or you’ve just never met a strong woman before?”

He looks at me in all seriousness. “No
, not like this. Not like you.” He drags a hand down his face. “I sound like a fucking idiot. Damn you, woman.” He laughs, but I can still hear the nerves in his laughter. “Do you want to share a unit with me? Like a couples’ unit? ”

“Like our first house?”

He looks horrified and then relaxes. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s what it is.” He shrugs, trying to appear casual.

I reach over on tiptoes and
give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I would love to share a house with you,” I laugh. “But don’t ask me to marry you—I mean, I hardly know you!” I laugh again as he flushes bright red.

He smiles, all trace
of nervousness vanishing. “Good. I mean, that’s what I thought you’d say. Why wouldn’t you want to?” He smirks, his demeanor all arrogant masculinity once again.

I roll my eyes. “Don
’t make me change my mind.”

*

Our small house is just that: small. It has a brown front door with a boarded up window in it, brown brickwork, and a tiled roof. Inside there’s a small kitchen with wood paneled cabinets and a small steel sink, a living room, bathroom, and a small double bedroom. The paintwork is dated and the furniture is old, but I love it.

“Homey,
” I state, keeping my poker face.

Mikey laughs and drops my bag on the floor by the bed.

I turn in a circle as I look around me. “I’m serious. You’ve really made this place your own.” I grip the bottom of the dowdy-looking curtains.

Mikey sits on the edge of the bed, a smirk playing on his mouth. “You can see that, huh?”

“Oh yeah, totally.”

He reaches out to me, his hands gripping the back
s of my thighs, and pulls me closer to him. He looks up to me through dark lashes, and my heart skips a beat when he runs his tongue across his bottom lip as his eyes search my face for something.

Woot, there it is.
Now it’s my turn to smirk. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I think this p
lace could use a feminine touch,” he says, slowly lying back and pulling me with him.

I look around mock
ingly. “Feminine touch? I don’t see any feminine females around here.” I place my hands on his chest and push up so we’re not so up close and personal, though I can see that’s his plan.

“You
’re all the feminine I need, baby.” I start to eye roll at him, but he reaches up, placing his hand on the back of my head, and pulls my mouth to his. “Shut up now, Nina.” I feel him grin as he kisses me, and I let him get away with having a smart mouth, for now at least.

I kiss him back fervently, gasping as he pulls at my clothes, sliding both himself and me out of our jackets and
T-shirts. He runs cool fingers over my lean stomach, small white scars puckering the flesh. He frowns and trails his hands up to my breasts where he lowers the straps on my bra and leans in to kiss at my neck.

My head lolls to the side and I moan at the feel of his hot mouth on my cool skin.
Memories surface of the last time we were together; the fear and death that came afterwards was life-changing, yet this is so much different. My heart races as I struggle to push the memories away, memories of death and violence, of greedy fingers and whips. I swallow, my breath catching in my throat.

“We don
’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I can wait,” he says.

I open my eyes and look at him. In his face is so much de
sire, but behind that is pain—pain in what he had to do, pain in what he had to witness.

“I want to.
” I shiver. The heat suddenly leaves me and cold drenches my soul.

Mikey lifts me and slides the covers from unde
rneath us. He lays me back down and lowers the covers on top of us. “Let me make it right.” His eyes wash over my face, his fingers stroking the long scar from my mouth to my cheek. “Let me give you a good memory and take away the bad.”

I stare at him, rapt for
his words.

“I want you to forget…” H
is words trail off. I know what he’s trying to say, though. He doesn’t need to say it. “I don’t want you to think of them again, not like that. I want you to think of me now. Okay?”

I shake my head in amazement, finding it utterly bizarre
and yet perfect that he should know exactly how I’m feeling. I frown, a deep furrow between my eyebrows, and he reaches up and strokes the frown, kissing my forehead until I stop.

“Let me try
, at least,” he pleads.

I nod, feeling ridiculously nervous, as if I
’m doing this for the first time. I’d make a joke out of that thought, but the only thing I can focus on right now is him kissing my breast and taking my nipple into his deliciously warm mouth, and his hand shuffling my pants down.

I swallow again, trying not to choke on the golf ball in my throat as I let my hands go to his back, feeling
the raised scars dancing across the surface of his flesh. With each scar I touch, I lose myself more, yet find myself in a new way. We’re both broken and damaged, but we’ve found something in each other that makes the nightmares go away, at least for a little while.

I feel hungry for him, for his body and his touch
, and I grip him, trailing nails down his back to add to his patterns of crisscross already there. I moan loudly as his fingers find my warmth, my head falling sideways on the pillow as I beg myself to relax and not panic—to enjoy this, enjoy him, loving my body and making it mine again.

I stare up into his face, hi
s hooded eyes looking into mine as his tongue flicks across his lower lip. I tilt my mouth up to his and let his tongue invade me. Tasting his desire, his heat, as our mouths work together like a well rehearsed orchestra and his hands and fingers make my body supple under him. I moan against his mouth as his hand is swapped for something more and I gasp, breathing through it and relishing in the pleasure as he presses into me, finally feeling no fear or pain, finally letting go and letting myself belong to him.

Because I don
’t need to fear anymore. This is Mikey.

*

I wake to kisses pattering across my shoulder, and I grin before my eyes even open.

“Go away, I
’m sleeping,” I murmur, burying myself beneath the covers.

“I
’m on duty. I have to leave in twenty.” He lands more soft kisses on me and I giggle.
Jesus fuck, when did I become a giggler?

I open my eyes. “Duty?”

He nods, his hand moving across my stomach and over my hips.

“What kind of duty?” I
ask, slapping his hand away.

He shrugs. “You know, guard duty.
We all have to do it at some point.”

That makes sense;
I guess I hadn’t really thought about it before. “So there’s always someone on guard?”

He nods. “Yeah, two actually.” He leans over to kiss my mouth,
and I briefly kiss him back before I dive out of bed, leaving Mikey pouting.

“You didn
’t really show me everywhere before. If you’re going off on guard duty, I need to know what I’m going to do. I can’t just sit here like the good little wife and do nothing.” I pull my clothes on, struggling with my top until Mikey comes and helps.

“I would never expect you to be a good little wife, Nina. You
’re far too naughty for that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“Urghhh, did you just wiggle your eyebrows at me suggestively?
” I scowl.

“
Yeah, sorry,” he laughs.

I hold up a hand. “I
’m serious, you ever do that again and I’ll kick your ass. That was,” I swallow down pretend bile, “disgusting.” I shake my head at him and walk out of the room, eager to inspect our new home, and I guess new community too.

I look
out the downstairs window, seeing the snow falling again, and huff. I never did like winter; making snowmen and having snowballs fights did nothing for me. Give me glaring sunshine and a light breeze any day.

“I
’ll take you over to the consignment shop first, get you loaded up with some clothes, coats, and shit. You know,” Mikey shrugs, “I’m sure they’ll have some girly crap there too.” He smiles like he’s hit the nail on the head.

“Girly crap
?” I repeat, slipping into the jacket he hands me.

“Yeah.”

I shake my head at him. “Do you know anything about women? Anything at all?”

He goes to answer but I cut him off by walking out the front door,
checking the number posted on it as I go. He locks the door on his way out, and jogs to catch up to me, handing me a key.