Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(101)

“I could be good to you,” he eventually said, all former pretense gone. There was no smug grin, no swagger to his movements. He stood before me a man, nothing more and nothing less. It was surprising and yet…it wasn’t.

“I’m not all bad, Wildcat,” he continued, his gaze sincere. “At least, I wasn’t always this way.”

Maybe if this had been our beginning instead of our end, my answer might have been different. But this wasn’t the beginning, this was the end, and there was nothing here for me, nothing for me to find with E. And he’d only helped me to see that, to solidify my decision.

“I don’t care,” I said, shrugging. “We’re leaving.”

He seemed to expect my answer, his expression unchanging except for his eyes. Flat and dark, yet in the face of my indifference to him and his confession, they’d gone suddenly ablaze. Taking a step back, he nodded.

“You sure I can’t change your mind?” he asked coldly, his usual hard exterior firmly back in place.

“Where, E?” I demanded, ignoring his question. “Where is the truck?”

In one swift movement, he’d grabbed hold of the barrel of my gun, wrenching it to the side and bringing my arm with it. Stepping forward, he pressed his chest against me and lowered his head to mine. “What’s he have that I don’t?” he growled. “What do you see in that little boy that I can’t give you?”

I didn’t bother to struggle, already knowing that fighting against his strength was futile. Instead, I glared up at him. “He’s a good man,” I hissed softly.

“He’s nothing,” E hissed back. “He’s young, stupid, doesn’t have the guts to do what it takes to get by in this world.”

My laugh was soft, yet full of mocking. “He does,” I said. “You know he does. You’re just jealous that he’s better than you, better than you will ever be.”

As if I’d burned him, E dropped my arm and immediately backed away. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“South parking lot,” he gritted out. “Dark blue Jeep. Keys are in the glove box. I give you anything better, and it’ll be missed.”

“What about everything else?” I asked. Keeping my eyes on him, I took a sideways step in the direction I’d come.

Unblinking, his eyes met mine—cold, dark and murderous. “I don’t ever go back on a promise. It’ll be there come sunup.”

Answering him with only a single nod, I turned to go.

“Wildcat?”

I paused, yet didn’t look back. “What?”

“How you gonna get through those gates? Past the guards?”

Briefly closing my eyes, I silently cursed myself before turning around to face him. He was right, I had no idea how we were going to get past the armed guards and through the gates, having planned on driving straight through them if it came down to it. Turning, I found E looking rather smug.

“I could help with that. There’s another way out of here…” He shrugged, though the gesture was more ominous than any simple shrug could ever hope to be.

“What do you want?” I asked, already knowing and dreading his answer.

Interlacing his fingers, he began individually cracking his knuckles, the sharp sound stark against the silent night, echoing off the wall behind me. “Everything comes at a price, Wildcat. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He took a step forward, gesturing to the space I’d just vacated. “Right here?” he said.





Chapter Thirty-Seven



Leisel

What did they always say about best-laid plans? That they often go astray? Yes, well, then they would have been correct.

This whole plan—from leaving Fredericksville until right up to this moment—now seemed to have been doomed from the very beginning, as if every step we’d taken toward progress had simply been another step in the wrong direction. And now the three of us sat here in our dilapidated room, waiting for the minutes to tick by until we could either find freedom once more, or be punished and kept against our will. Yet again.

Our troubled journey so far all seemed to be just a series of mistakes and unfortunate circumstances. Evelyn and myself, Alex and Jami, had run off into the night, fleeing Fredericksville with only the intention of leaving. And Jami had died. A heartbreaking loss for poor Evelyn, something I knew she still hadn’t given herself time to properly grieve over.

Then we’d stopped in Covey, a seemingly destroyed and silent ghost town, in hopes of finding food, gas, and shelter, only to end up kidnapped by religious zealots and nearly made a meal out of. And more people had died.

And the man in the cabin, the one with the little girl who’d been bitten. I’d tried to help her, tried to comfort him, yet she’d died anyway, and in his grief the man had disappeared, his fate unknown. But I could only presume that he was dead now too.

And here, in Purgatory, a place we’d come to in hopes of finding supplies, of finding a way to continue surviving, only to find another version of Fredericksville, another version of Covey, another version of that man in the cabin, losing his daughter…and meeting with only more death.

It was just a continuous onslaught of death lurking in wait at every corner. No matter what we did, we couldn’t seem to run fast enough or far enough to escape it.