An Unyielding Desire (After The End Book 2) (23 page)

“Of course you couldn’t. He was a monster and couldn’t possibly expect you to have feelings for him.
No one could care for someone like that.”

Mina winced slightly, and her head spun. She suddenly realized she wasn’t ready for this full conversation with Coop. She couldn’t explain it all to him when she hadn’t sorted it out herself yet. His tone indicated he wouldn’t be receptive to her confession of confused feelings, and she backed away from her decision to share the full truth with him. At some point, she would try, but not yet. She was still too fragile to handle his rejection if he turned away from her in disgust. He couldn’t offer unconditional support yet, his own wounds clearly too raw, and she couldn’t survive a soul-bearing confession without it.

Tentatively, she lifted her hand, suddenly craving his presence again when she hadn’t wanted him so close just a few minutes ago. “Would you please hold me until I fall asleep, Coop? I don’t want to be alone.”

He nodded, coming over to take her hand. He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Get dressed for bed and call me when you’re ready.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “You’ll never be alone again.” He spoke with earnest intensity that left no doubt to his sincerity.

She gave him a small smile, waiting until he’d entered the hallway and closed the door before stripping off the clothes Emme had helped her with earlier in the day to slip on a flannel nightgown. Tears streamed from her eyes, though she sobbed silently. He obviously had no doubt that he would be there for her, but she couldn’t be so confident.

If—when—he found out all the things she’d done with and for Shane, he would feel differently. When he found out she had cared for the other man even a little, he would surely reject her. Until then, she could have him by her side, but she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of believing he’d always be there. It still felt suspiciously like using him
—as she had the time she had panicked and turned to him as a way to endure the idea of being pregnant—to rely on his strength in the meantime, but she needed someone to lean on until she could stand on her own two feet again.

“You’re weak,” she said to her reflection in the bathroom after brushing her teeth. “Fucking pathetic too.” She couldn’t deny the evidence. She had crumbled to Shane and given in
to almost all his demands. Now, she was hiding from the truth that there was no future with Coop because she couldn’t face losing him yet. “You sicken me.” The reflection in the mirror looked stricken, and she could clearly see the weakness in her eyes.

Disgusted with herself, she turned from the mirror and went to the bedroom, calling for Coop after she had slid into the bed she’d so recently shared with Shane. Her weakness revolted her, and it would surely repulse him too when he learned how depraved she was, and how deeply she had s
unk into the role Shane had cast for her.

Chapter Fourteen

Shane tried to hide his pang of remorse when he realized the current house Les had selected wasn’t abandoned. In the few weeks he’d been with their group, this situation had arisen on two other occasions. There had been no surviving occupants before, and he didn’t see the outcome changing for this man and his two daughters.

They stood in their own kitchen, all visibly trembling. The man had his arms around each of the girls. Shane guessed the older one was around seventeen, and that sent another sharp pang through him. There was no doubt what the other men would want from her. At least the little girl, probably twelve or so, would be spared that.

“Please just take what you want and go,” said the man, pulling his daughters closer still.

“We will,” said Les, with easy confidence. “We’ll take everything.”

“You don’t have to hurt anyone here.” Still shaking, the man said, “I’m Charlie, and these are my girls
, Izzie and Danielle. We can all walk away from this. No one has to die for some material goods.”

Shane imagined the man thought it would be harder for the group who had broken into his home, weapons blazing, to do anything violent to people whose name they knew. He could have told the man it wouldn’t work, if he
’d dared open his mouth. Since he valued his life more than theirs, he didn’t say anything. He started to go to another part of the house to search for anything useful, but froze when Hardy stepped closer to the family, his senses screaming at him to be alert.

“I see something I want, Les.” He licked his lips as he eyed the older one.
Izzie? Shane wasn’t sure.

“You went first last time,” said Spam.

“Play nice, boys,” admonished Antaya, who hung on Les, as she usually did, especially since her belly had started rounding with proof that she carried the seed of evil within. She seemed unbothered by the planned rape of the young woman across the room. “You can share or mix and match.”

“
She’s right. There are two of them,” said Hardy, his gaze flicking to the younger one.

Before he realized he’d done it, Shane was holding his pistol close to Hardy’s head. “That is not happening.”

An air of tension ran through the room. He stiffened at the snick of a cocked pistol near the back of his head. Without turning to look, he knew Dingle had entered the fray, having chosen to align with the child rapists.

“Les, you can’t really be okay with this?” asked Shane, not moving his gaze or gun from Hardy.

Les came closer, appearing unconcerned by all the guns. “No, I’m not okay with it, West.”

“Tell Hardy to back off then.” Shane’s relief was short-lived as the other man spoke again.

“Afraid I can’t do that. The world has changed, and though I don’t condone it, I can’t deny them their fun. Women are hard to come by.”

“
Danielle is not a woman. She’s only eleven,” said the older girl. She firmed her stance, trying to move in front of her father and little sister. “Do what you want to me, but leave her alone.”

“Sorry,
darlin’, but I gotta keep the men happy.” Les took a step back again. “Put down your gun, West.”

Shane maintained a firm hold on his pistol. The pleading in the father’s eyes, along with the terror on the little girl’s, seemed to have frozen his hand in place. “You aren’t hurting that little girl. Not like that.”

Dingle’s gun kissed the back of his skull. “Put it down and step aside. You don’t want to participate, fine, but don’t tell us what we can or can’t do. This ain’t the army, general.”

“I was a lieutenant.” Shane spoke coldly, still not moving his gun.

“Please save my sister,” begged Izzie, looking right at him. Something about her reminded him so much of Mina that it hurt. They didn’t share even a common feature, but her stance, and maybe her protectiveness toward her family, had him thinking about the woman he loved.

With a complete lack of options, Shane spent a millisecond mulling over what he could do for the little girl to protect her. He
switched targets, and his finger was already squeezing the trigger by the time his brain had reached the decision. The sound of gunfire filled the kitchen a split second before the bullet penetrated Danielle’s forehead. The girl looked stunned as she buckled, no doubt dead at the moment of impact.

“What did you do?” shouted Charlie, collapsing to his knees beside his slain daughter.

Izzie looked horrorstricken. “You were supposed to help her.”

“I did.” Shane put the gun back in his holster. “You were
all dead the minute we entered the house. I spared her from suffering before the end.” He didn’t wait to see the reaction of the men in his group. Frankly, if one of them chose to shoot him in the back, he didn’t give much of a fuck. It might be considered a mercy.

“Let him go,
fellas,” said Les behind him. “There’s still a tasty treat waiting for you.”

Sickened, Shane left the kitchen, moving deeper into the house. The first two rooms were clearly the girls’, and he avoided those, not wanting to see the items they had considered important. He didn’t want to know anything more about them. As
Izzie’s screams reverberated from the kitchen, followed by a gunshot—probably Charlie meeting his end—and then more of her screaming, he went into the last room off the hallway.

This was a den and playroom. Shane threw himself down on the leather couch, scowling at the dead large-screen TV still mounted on the wall. Did Charlie think it was someday going to magically turn back on? Naïve fucker. He’d clearly been an idiot if he’d thought a couple of door locks would keep his daughters safe. The incompetent father bore his share of responsibility for what had happened to his youngest and was currently happening to
Izzie.

He hoped they killed her when it was over. It was a horrible thing to wish for, but he’d seen the couple of women they’d dragged along for a few days, used until they were broken beyond repair. It sickened him, and he didn’t want to see the young woman endure the same thing.

And he didn’t want to face her again. She was such a strong reminder of Mina, and he knew he’d failed her. There hadn’t been any other options. If he’d shot Hardy, Dingle would have killed him, and then Spam and Dingle would have taken both girls. Pardons might have eventually chosen to join in, once they were sufficiently subdued. He had shot Danielle to spare her hours of rape, but it didn’t feel much like an act of mercy.

It felt cowardly. Here he was, hiding at the back of the house while those men took advantage of the teenager, trying to reassure himself he’d done everything he could
to save a child by killing her. What a load of bullshit.

Shane took the gun from his holster, holding the cold steel in his hand and staring down at it, as though he could find all th
e answers. He knew he could find one answer at the end of the barrel. In seconds, he could end this miserable existence. It wouldn’t hurt anymore to be separated from Mina. He wouldn’t be forced to ever-increasing acts of depravity due to the company he was currently keeping. There would be no more decisions like the one he’d made in the kitchen ten minutes ago.

Temptation was strong for a moment. He swiveled the gun to face him, looking down the barrel with a hint of longing.
Well maintained, the trigger was smooth under his thumb, and he knew it would depress easily.

He didn’t know if he would have had the courage to follow through, but a sound in the hallway broke the spell, and he tore his gaze from the gun, stuffing it back into his holster as the door to the den opened. It had muffled some of
Izzie’s cries, but they grew louder as Les and Antaya entered, before finally shutting the door and blocking it out again.

“What was that?” asked Les, sitting down on the leather loveseat and drawing his girlfriend down beside him
, half on his lap.

Shane shrugged, unable to suppress a shudder at the tender way Les caressed
Antaya’s pregnant tummy. The horror of those two as parents made him physically ill.

“I told you to stand down, West.”

He nodded his head, finding he didn’t care if Les pulled out his revolver and shot him for his defiance. “You did, but I decided to do the right thing.”

Antaya
issued a cold laugh. “Killing that girl was your definition of right?”

He stared at her impassively. “Would anyone have left her alive after they were finished?” When she shook her head, looking unbothered by the admission, he waved his hand. “There you go. She was dead either way. At least she didn’t get dishonored like her sister.”

“I get it.” Les nodded. “We all have our moments of conscience, my friend. Did I ever tell you I worked for Magenta? You heard of it?”

Shane nodded. Who hadn’t heard of the biotechnology company that focused on producing genetically modified foods and pesticide-resistant seeds that were supposedly safe? “Yeah. Always kind of thought that GMO shit would be the downfall of humanity, not the motherfucking sun.”

Les gave him a small smile. “Yeah, it was poison. You seem surprised to hear confirmation. Hell, the scientists knew it was shit. The board members, the executives, even the grunts. Did you know the Magenta cafeteria sold only organic food? Even the lowest employee knew enough about the products to refuse to eat that shit.”

“What does this have to do with—”

“I’m getting to that. I worked in marketing. My job was to convince resistant governments and international companies that our products were safe and environmentally friendly. I knew it was bullshit, but I sold it like it was gold. I was damned good at my job, eventually working my way up to V.P. of marketing.”

Shane nodded, pretending like he gave a damn about what slimy job Les had performed before The End. He’d have pegged him for a politician or a used car salesperson. Maybe even a pharmaceutical rep, but the career Les was describing fit the other man to a T.

“It ate at me though. The research studies our people did. The ones the opponents put out, trying to stop the juggernaut bearing down on the human race. Scary stuff. Tumors in rats, infertility in domesticated animals eating GMO feed, stillbirths and mutations in humans…I got to the point where I couldn’t sleep at night.”

Shane had a hard time believing this man had ever suffered a crisis of conscience. “What’d you do?”

“I was all set to quit. I was gonna blow open the whole thing. Turn whistleblower, though I knew Magenta had a way of making such folks disappear. I was traveling to one of our factories in Africa to meet with the minister of agriculture of a nearby country, and I planned to start by convincing him not to buy the official Magenta propaganda, to continue rejecting GMOs. We were taking a factory tour so I could show him the production in action, and I almost canceled the meeting, to make it somewhere more private. Somewhere I could tell him the truth easier. I didn’t though, and we went on the tour as planned.” He moved his hand, resting it on Antaya’s leg. “That was where I met Antaya.”