Surge (39 page)

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Authors: LaMontagne,Katelin;katie

BOOK: Surge
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Chapter Twenty-Seven:

 

After a shower, complete with two handies for some much needed release, I fell into a fitful sleep. My dreams were filled with an unaware, raven-haired seductress, so you can see why I woke up in the same state I went to sleep in. Morning wood, on top of vivid fantasies, tends to do that to even the best of men. And I’m now convinced that I’m one of the worst. I mean, how sick am I that a mere brush with Olivia’s beautifully damaged body has me hard for hours? Extremely sick, that’s how much.

So, here I am, pissed, aroused, and disgusted with myself when John busts in the door without knocking. Fucker’s lucky I wasn’t angrily jacking off like I was planning to. But seeing his ugly mug works just as well as an effective boner killer.

“Look at you, up already,” John comments with a smirk. “I guess Olivia was right, all you needed was a nice cold shower and some sleep to cure you of your
head
ache.”

“Fuck you,” I retort.

“Who knew you were so kinky?” John continues. “All she did was take you down, and you went up.” He cocks his head much the way Olivia does. “So, does that mean you like being dominated? If it does, Olivia’s the perfect dominatrix. Abso-fucking-lutely sexy, she has the attitude and the outfit already. All she needs is the whip, and you’re good to go.”

“You’re a demented bastard, you know that?”

“Thanks, I try,” he replies with an unabashed grin. John wipes the smile away and gets serious. “You know she’s not normal, right?” I scowl and never have I wanted to punch my best friend more in my life. Said man I’m contemplating forcibly removing from the post, holds up his hand and closes the door tightly. His voice is much lower than it was a few seconds ago when he speaks.

“What I mean is that she’s fragile,” he revises. “You saw what happened when you touched her at the condo. It sent her into a freaking panic attack.”

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was abused,” I hiss and he nods.

“I know,” John agrees. “All I’m trying to say is that you can’t expect her to jump when you say to, like every girl has since high school, alright? Ease her into it. Make her comfortable around you.” He stares at me intently with hard eyes. “And don’t you fucking dare do or try anything unless you’re serious about her. She has enough trust issues, she doesn’t need any more proof to steel her walls with.”

“I don’t
want
to want her,” I say and run a hand through my hair. “But I do, so I guess I’m fucked either way.” John glares at me. “That was so not what I meant, you sick fuck, get your mind out of the gutter.” He curls his hand for me to explain. “What I meant is that I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t, you know?”

“Better,” he allows. “But I don’t see how loving a beautiful woman would be damning yourself.”

“Hold it right the fuck there,” I order harshly. “Who the hell said anything about love? I like her and I’m insanely attracted to the pint sized ninja, but I do
not
, nor will I
ever
love her.” John laughs at that, but I ignore him. “Nor will she ever love me. She loves Travis, I mean, how can I compete with a ghost?”

“Who said you have to compete?” John asks.

John leaves me with that, while singing Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” the whole way down the hall with his ear drum piercing voice. I hear several deep laughs and giggles, but I ignore it in favor of getting dressed. Pulling on clean smelling cargos over my boxers, I slip on a t-shirt and boots.

I use the functioning bathroom, God, how I’ve missed having plumbing, nothing compares to the ease of a flush. Without plumbing, it was as if we were on a permanent camping trip from hell. Using buckets and dumping the contents down the condo’s trash chute was fucking disgusting and I would rather fight off infected while shitting in the woods, than revert back to that ever again.

Washing my hands with warm water, again the beauty of plumbing, I brush my teeth without bottled rainwater for the first time in almost two years, and step out. Grabbing my holsters for my knives, gun and crossbow, I slip them on as I trudge downstairs. Following the sound of voices, I find a good portion of people already in the dining room, munching away on toast with some kind of jelly on it. I snatch a slice off the dish and continue on in search of coffee. The jelly is fucking awesome, so I’m licking the remains off my fingers as I walk into the kitchen and find Olivia pouring a mug of steaming deliciousness.

“I was just about to bring this up,” she says without looking. “John said you were awake, but I wanted to see if you were feeling better.” This time she glances up to meet my eyes. “Are you, or should someone else drive?”

I feel like the worst sort of prick there is. Here she is, checking up on me as if I really suffered an ailment of the upper head, when in reality it was mere discomfort of the lower region that sent me running for cover in order to save face. Like a goddamn coward. I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air of the beautiful pixie looking at me with concerned eyes, never mind force unwanted advances on her.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I answer. “Turns out, sleep is just what I needed, so thanks for the tip.”

“Good,” she says with a bright smile that makes me feel even more of a bastard. “My mom used to have migraines, but sleep in a quiet room without any lights on worked wonders for her.” Could the floor open and swallow me? Because I couldn’t possibly get any lower.

“Your mom’s trick works great, thanks for sharing it with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Olivia says as she walks over. “Now drink this before you have another detox, we don’t have time.”

Taking the mug and nodding my thanks, I sprint out of the room before I spill my sins at her feet and beg for forgiveness. I pass through the dining room and avoid looking directly at the smirking bastard, or the glare from Cory, on my way to the garage. The doors are already open, so I continue on and find the rest of the group inside. The twins are doing final checks on the gear, Tommy is under hoods checking fluids, and Akio is assisting Mike along with Whitney into the van. I walk over to the last group.

“How you feeling?” I ask. I’m still feeling guilty for putting him in a position to be shot in the first place, so I’ve avoided him and Whit like the plague.

“Never better,” he mutters. Mike winces a bit as Whitney gets him strapped in, and he looks a little pale. I look to Akio for the verdict.

“A little bit of swelling,” Akio says. “It’s to be expected after the strain that it’s been put through.” He gives me a pointed look, like I had every other option than to move the group to safety. We didn’t, so he’ll just have to get over it.

“Then I guess that it’s a good thing we’re driving,” I retort.

“Indeed it is,” Olivia says from behind me. “Since certain people, who couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag with a road map, think that they know better than everyone since they have a fancy degree that doesn’t mean shit anymore.” Akio looks offended, but Olivia doesn’t appear to care. “I saw what you did. It was your fault Mike got shot in the first place, so don’t you dare try to push the blame on Jared.”

“What I did?” Akio questions with a glare at Olivia. “What did I do?”

“It’s what you
didn’t
do,” she replies. “A raider went to attack you, you refused to strike back, so Mike pushed you out of the way and took the shot himself.”

“I refused to attack,” he says with a raised chin. “Because I would have rather died than hurt an innocent.” Olivia’s eyes flash.

“So, you still think that they were innocent?” Olivia asks in a casual tone that I know is anything but.

“Absolutely,” Akio confirms. “You tortured that innocent girl and forced false answers to get what you wanted. Then you murdered dozens of men for no reason whatsoever.”

“Let me ask you something,
doctor
,” Olivia spits the word at him as she unzips her coat and points to her exposed throat. “What do you think happened here?” Akio’s mouth is gaping. “I’ll tell you what. That
‘innocent
,

which you keep foolishly defending, happened to be responsible for my permanent necklace. Would you like to know why?” She doesn’t wait for Akio to answer, since he’s sputtering like a fish out of water as he stares at her mutilated neck.

“She decided to try and slit my throat because she was a demented bitch that got off on inflicting pain. So don’t you fucking dare accuse me of hurting an innocent again, or you’ll be the
‘innocent’
I hurt. Got it?” Akio nods his head and takes a step back, but his eyes are still trained on her neck. Olivia must feel uncomfortable because she tips her chin down and glares back, all the while her body is shaking.

“Would you like to take a picture and publish it in a medical journal?” Olivia asks with a cold tone. “Because I’m pretty sure no one is around to care about your new discovery, and you won’t be getting a goddamn medal from me.”

“I-I just don’t know how you’re alive,” he whispers as he shakes his head. “Your jugular looks like it was slit pretty deeply.” Akio steps forward with his hand outstretched as if to touch her, so she takes several steps back.

“I’m not a fucking science experiment,” she hisses and covers what little she can with a gloved hand. “It took a while, but I can talk and breathe with only occasionally having trouble swallowing, so I just pretend it isn’t there.” Olivia stares down the three wide eyed persons still looking intently at her scars. “And so won’t you.”

“Of course,” Whitney says with a shake to remove the cobwebs.

Mike and Akio nod their agreement, before Olivia spins away and walks over to the BMW. Opening the door, she climbs in and slams the door behind her. I see her grip the steering wheel with both gloved fists, so I decide to check on her. I hear the car start up as I approach it and a few seconds later can feel the bass of a kick ass sound system vibrating across the floor. Heavy guitar and drums are unmistakable, but I can’t make out the band yet.

Knocking on the glass, Olivia must hear me because she rolls the window down and holds up a finger to wait, but doesn’t stop bobbing her head and singing System of a Down’s “Chop Suey.” I’m guessing she picked this track on purpose because of the lyrics her raspy voice sings out about covering scars and being forsaken. When the song is finally over, she turns the radio off and looks at me expectantly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her and she nods.

“I did,” she says. “It was either shock him stupid, or kill his judgmental ass.”

“Well, I’m glad that you didn’t kill him,” I say. “But you didn’t have to share anything you’re not comfortable with.” Olivia gives me a sardonic smile.

“They would have seen it eventually, so I might as well flaunt it,” Olivia says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some ass kicking music to listen to.”

Without waiting, she turns the radio back to full blast and I feel the bass of Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box" as she rolls the window up. Shaking my head and grinning at her schizoid music personality, I look around to see who else has shown up. The hens are already strapped into the back of the van, the twins are fighting with John over the choice of movie, while Sarah and Danny are enjoying the show. There may be two of them, but John is the ultimate negotiator, and in the end comes out on top with
The Hangover
. Cory’s leaning against the Jag while Tommy and Leonard talk to Olivia.

“Lenny’s with me, but be warned, you will be listening to eardrum splitting, rock goodness until I’m no longer pissed,” Olivia says. “Then maybe we can listen to a little Otis if we have time. Sound good?”

“My ear drums are already shot to hell, so why not?” Leonard agrees with a smile. “Besides, I get to ride with a beautiful woman and try to convince her to be my future wife.” Olivia laughs and pats the seat for him to hop in.

“Don’t worry Tommy,” she says. “I’m an excellent driver. And I’ll have him home by ten o’clock sharp, or you can come after me with your shotgun and the sheriff.” Tommy laughs before hopping in the Jaguar. Olivia looks at Cory and me.

“Alright, tanks are full so we should be good for a while. Flash your lights if you need to stop for any reason, and I’ll pull over as soon as it’s safe. Don’t pay any mind to the road signs, speed limits or any stoplights that happen to be working; pay attention to my whip and stay close.” She glances to make sure Cory and I get all that before continuing. “If you’re set, I’ll pop the door and I want you stay in the middle, Jared.” I nod and Cory sticks his thumb out to say he’s good.

“Bon voyage, boys.”

Cory and Olivia hop in their cars, so I jog over to the van. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I adjust my mirrors, strap in and fix the angle of the chair before starting it up. Olivia honks her horn and then the garage door opens. I’m crossing my fingers, hoping this is turns out to be a pleasant ride and not the road trip from hell.

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