Aftershock (24 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

T
HE
NEXT
HOUR
PASSED
in a blur.

After Lauren examined Jeb and Mickey to make sure they were
dead, Garrett dragged the bodies to the southwest corner. Then he visited Don
and Sam to share the news. For the first time since Jeb’s reign of terror began,
the survivors were able to move through the cavern freely. Cadence rode her
scooter around the RV. Penny took Cruz out for a leisurely stroll.

Little by little, the finality began to sink in.

When Lauren recovered from the shock, she headed to the triage
tent. Focusing on patients always calmed her nerves. To her surprise, Sam was
awake again. He’d felt strong enough to roll off the cot and search through his
duffel bag. Lauren wished she’d thought to remove the urn with Melissa’s ashes,
because he’d found them.

“What is this?” he asked.

She didn’t know what to say.

“I couldn’t stop him,” Don said.

Sam’s dark eyes were tortured. “Tell me it’s not true.”

She crouched down beside him, touching a tentative hand to his
short hair. He’d collapsed beside the urn, exhausted. Although he’d been strong
and healthy before the earthquake hit, right now he looked brittle, like a bag
of bones. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest?”

“She can’t be dead,” he said. “I’d remember....”

“Your memory might have gaps while you recover. It’s normal.
You’ll get better.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t want to get
better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lip to keep it from
trembling.

“How long was I out?”

“For almost a week.”

He exhaled a ragged breath. “What’s the date?”

“April fourteenth.”

“I thought it was January.”

She shook her head.

He still had the picture of his girlfriend clutched in his
hand. Blinking rapidly, he pored over every detail, as if an intense examination
would jog his memory. It didn’t, from what she could tell. He also seemed too
exhausted to cry. She rubbed his thin shoulder as he made a strangled sound of
agony in the back of his throat.

A few moments later, he was asleep again.

Lauren rose to her feet, her chest aching for him. Poor Sam.
He’d lost the woman he loved, and several months’ worth of memories. He’d have
to experience an intense period of grief all over again.

She couldn’t imagine how hard that would be.

Sam’s tragic situation made her realize how precious her time
with Garrett was. They couldn’t leave things unresolved. Although she knew they
had a tough road ahead, she wasn’t ready to walk away.

It could be worse. At least they weren’t
dead.

She found him sitting inside the semi, tinkering with the
shortwave radio. It had been damaged, either from bullets or the crash.

He’d hardly slept over the past few days and it showed. Weary
lines creased his forehead and there were circles under his eyes. The neck of
his coveralls was ripped, revealing a jagged laceration along his
collarbone.

“Why don’t you let me fix you up?” she offered.

Now that the threat was gone, he could let down his guard and
rest. There was nothing left to do but wait to be rescued.

Leaving the radio in pieces, he rose from the driver’s seat.
She followed him back to the sleeper cab, her stomach quivering with awareness.
They’d shared their first kiss here. Just last night, they’d been intimate.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

She gestured for him to sit down, resting her medical bag on
the mattress. He eased the coveralls down to expose his left side. The cut on
his chest was shallow. She cleaned it and applied a light bandage.

He’d overexerted himself during the fight, causing his gunshot
wound to bleed. She changed the dressing around his biceps, adding fresh gauze.
Again, she secured the binding with heavy white tape.

When she was finished, he flexed his arm, testing its
comfort.

“Is it all right?” she asked.

“Yes. Feels better today.”

“You’re a good healer.”

“You’re a good medic.”

She shrugged, putting her supplies away.

“I’m sorry about...what you saw me do.”

“I saw you saving me.”

“It was ugly.”

She sat down next to him. “Death usually is.”

“I thought they were going to kill you.”

“I know.”

“How did it look outside?”

“Bleak,” she said, picturing the devastation. Her eyes hadn’t
really adjusted to the light, so she was left with a surreal impression, like a
photo negative. “The sun was blinding. I couldn’t see anything but cars and
fire.”

“Maybe I should try to climb out.”

She placed her palm against his cheek. “Don’t. Please.”

Wearing a pained expression, he removed her hand from his face
and held it. “You were right earlier.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

“To infinity?”

“I’m serious,” he said. “I should have come clean with you last
night. I was afraid you’d hate me if you knew.”

“I don’t,” she said. Quite the opposite. “I’m afraid, too.”

“Of what?”

“My feelings for you.” This experience had caused her to take a
deeper look at herself. She wasn’t perfect, either. “I’ve always been sort
of...hard to reach, emotionally. Michael blamed me for our breakup.”

“Michael was an asshole.”

She smiled, warmed by Garrett’s loyalty. “But he had a point.
He claimed that I liked being a paramedic because I could move from scene to
scene, patient to patient, and never make any meaningful connections.”

“He hopped from nurse to nurse. Is that better?”

“No,” she said, thinking of her father. He’d also been
inconstant, flying from city to city. Living a double life. But, for all his
flaws, she’d adored him. “Michael and I were both more focused on our careers
than on the relationship. I held myself at a distance. I realize now that we
didn’t have a deep, passionate bond.” She let go of his hand and twined her arms
around his neck. “You showed me what I was missing.”

His eyes searched her face, darkening with emotion.

“I don’t care about tomorrow,” she said. “We’re here together
now. If I don’t say this, I might regret it forever.”

“Say what?”

“I love you,” she said, lifting her lips to his.

* * *

G
ARRETT
KNEW
IT
was
wrong to touch Lauren again.

But, God, it felt so right.

He couldn’t believe she was letting him kiss her.
Inviting
him to. When he crushed his mouth over hers,
she responded with a breathy little gasp, parting her lips for his tongue. He
delved inside, tasting her thoroughly.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, moaning.

“Wait,” he said, breaking the kiss. He had to make sure he’d
heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

“I love you,” she said against his lips. “Please, Garrett. Make
love to me.”

She knew the truth about him, and she didn’t care? Maybe she
wasn’t thinking clearly. He suspected that she had some kind of Stockholm
syndrome. She’d mistaken fear for attraction, gratitude for affection.

He wasn’t thinking clearly, either. He kissed her again,
sliding his hand around her slender waist. Although he wasn’t deceiving her
anymore, he was still taking advantage. He was screwing himself over, too. Every
time he touched her, he became more attached. Going back to prison would be
torture.

The first five years had been hell. How would he survive the
next five?

She tore her mouth from his, panting. Moving her hands from his
hair, she unzipped her sweatshirt and let it drop. Then she kicked off her
shoes, wrestled out of her pants and removed her sports bra. Within seconds, she
was buck naked.

And Garrett was rock hard.

She had the most beautiful body he’d ever seen, smooth and
sleek and feminine. He’d almost swallowed his tongue last night after catching a
glimpse of her standing in the water, wet underwear clinging to her curves. In
the back of the car, the light had been dim, but he’d studied every dip and
valley.

Now he had an unfettered view. The bright overhead lamp left
little to the imagination. She had pretty breasts, long legs and a sexy little
stomach. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glittering with anticipation.

This gorgeous woman...wanted him. She was
begging
him.

He rose to his feet, his pulse racing. Looking up at his face,
she pulled his coveralls down to his knees. His cock bobbed up, demanding her
attention.

Moistening her lips, she wrapped her slender hand around his
shaft. Her mouth made a soft moue of approval. He didn’t know why she seemed so
impressed with him, but it was damned flattering. Either she wasn’t very
experienced, or her past boyfriends—including that doctor fiancé—had come up
short.

Eyes half-lidded, she stroked him up and down a few times. He
groaned, threading his fingers through her hair. When she bent her head to him,
swirling her tongue around the tip, his knees almost buckled.

“Oh my
God.
”

She parted her lips and took him deeper. He fit nicely, halfway
in her mouth. Moaning, she sucked harder, her cheeks hollow.

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to pull away.
Already on the edge of orgasm, he gripped the base of his shaft and squeezed his
eyes shut. When he was under control again—barely—he looked at her.

She braced her hands on the mattress, staring up at him.

This was their last chance to be together, so he had to slow
down. He’d been a selfish lover more times than he cared to remember. With
Lauren, he wanted it to be special. Besides, all his fantasies centered on
giving
her
pleasure.

Ignoring the ache in his balls, he sank to his knees before her
and pushed apart her sleek thighs. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed, allowing
him to see all of her silky folds and furrows. She was wet and pink and perfect.
He wanted to penetrate her with his tongue, his fingers, his throbbing cock.

“Please,” she said, arching her spine.

He trailed kisses along her quivering inner thigh. She fisted
her hands in his hair and tugged him closer to her center. Head spinning with
arousal, he dipped his tongue inside. She tasted so fucking good, like salted
honey. He reveled in her texture, her warmth, her womanly scent. Making a
humming sound in the back of his throat, he pressed his lips to her clitoris,
sucking gently.

He couldn’t get enough of her, but she didn’t require much
stimulation. When he circled her with his tongue, she bucked her hips and cried
out, coming hard against his mouth.

She was so hot and wet and delicious, Garrett was half-afraid
he’d follow her. When her tremors subsided, he searched the drawer beneath the
bed for another condom. With shaking hands, he stretched it over himself. Still
on his knees at the edge of the mattress, he placed himself at her opening.

“This is going to be quick,” he warned.

“Just do it,” she said.

He tried to enter her inch by inch, but the instant her slick
channel surrounded him, his hips jerked forward. With a strangled groan, he
plunged to the hilt. She clung to his shoulders, panting softly against his
neck.

“You feel so good,” he said, holding very still. He was afraid
he’d pound the hell out of her if he moved.

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

His tongue mated with hers, branding her. She could probably
taste herself on his lips. Excited by the thought, he pushed her back against
the mattress and positioned himself over her, driven by a primal need to
dominate. Withdrawing halfway, he sank back in, filling her mouth and her
body.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his
waist, tilting her hips to meet each thrust. If not for the gunshot wound and
the flimsy latex barrier, he’d have ejaculated after a few strokes.

“You’re killing me,” he said, trying not to come.

“More,” she demanded.

He pulled out completely, rubbing his shaft along her slippery
cleft. She sobbed with pleasure, writhing against him. Then he reentered her,
delving halfway in. It felt so good he did it again and again, driving them both
crazy.

She dug her heels into his buttocks, urging him deeper.

“Garrett, please.”

“Please what?”

When she smoothed her hand down her belly, strumming her
fingertips over her clit, he lost it. She wanted all of him, so he gave it to
her, thrusting as deep as he could get. Her inner muscles clenched around him
and she screamed his name, her face contorted in ecstasy. He came right after
her, clenching his jaw to muffle his shout.

He didn’t know how long he stayed hard inside her, feeling the
aftershocks of her orgasm. The minutes ticked by with an unfair swiftness. He
wished the hours in prison would pass half as quickly.

Although he never really softened, he withdrew from her to
dispose of the condom. Then he gathered her in his arms, covering them both in a
blanket. She felt soft and relaxed, practically purring with satisfaction.

Garrett stroked her back and breathed in the scent of her hair,
his throat tight with emotion. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to let her
go. With each moment, he grew more desperately in love with her.

“What’s it like in jail?” she asked.

“Jail isn’t so bad.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I’m not in jail. I’m in prison.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Most of the men in jail are waiting for court dates or doing
light sentences. Jail is for short time, usually less than a year.”

“So, if you have a longer sentence, you go to prison?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like there?”

“It depends. I’ve heard that white-collar criminals have it
easier. They enjoy small, privately owned, minimum-security facilities. Santee
Lakes is a large prison. Maximum security for dangerous criminals.”