I grabbed onto the counter, bit my fingers into the laminate surface, and slowly realized that I was staring out the window with more than detached anything.
I had been nervous for Kane.
I was still nervous for him.
My stomach churned violently and flipped twice; first because I couldn’t stop the concern that flooded my senses and fueled some displaced adrenaline, and second because I hated that I felt that way. Subconsciously and now even consciously, I didn’t want him to get hurt.
I shook my head violently and stared down at the stainless steel sink basin.
I could not lose myself here.
I could not let Kane have his way.
Fine, I could admit that I was attracted to him. But any straight girl would be. He was a very good-looking human being.
At least on the outside.
And that was the thing. I was stronger than good looks and bizarrely enthralling glasses. I was deeper than surface level.
Hendrix was hotter than anybody left alive and I had still made him work for our relationship. And he was basically Superman in the middle of a Zombie-infested Metropolis. The point was, no matter what kind of person he was on the surface, I still made myself get to know him before I allowed myself to feel anything substantial.
The same would definitely be true for Kane.
And the more I got to know him, the less I liked him.
He took one more stab at the Feeder on the ground and plunged the knife deep into his skull. He sat back on his heels and looked around for any other threat. I did the same and didn’t see anything so my false sense of security returned and I released my grip on the counter.
My fingertips ached with the fierceness I had been holding on with. My shoulders felt tight with the passing tension. Which didn’t make sense.
The more I got to know Kane, the more I realized how delusional he was. He was a sociopath that kidnapped women and children because he wanted his way. His father was a full-blown psychopath, yet Kane bent to his every whim. He allowed his brother to get beaten and tortured, abused and mistreated and the only time he stepped up was to clean Miller’s injuries so that it could happen all over again. Kane hadn’t asked me what I wanted once. From the moment I met him, he treated me like property and used any advantage to impose his will over me.
And still I had somehow developed some kind of feeling for him through all that.
It didn’t make sense.
Honestly, it terrified me.
What kind of person felt sympathy for a tyrant? What kind of girl cared about the fate of her kidnapper?
I played through the possibilities of Stockholm Syndrome, but I couldn’t honestly make an educated decision about it. I didn’t really know anything about it except for the surface definition of the hostages falling for their abductors. I didn’t even know if there were usually romantic feelings involved or if loyal but platonic feelings could be taken into account.
Was that what I had?
Kane dragged the body over to the fire pit that had a ring of slatted Adirondack chairs around it. He spread out the stones in the sand and dumped the body in the middle. Slowly he worked up a fire and made sure the Zombie caught it. It would take a while to burn the body and the stench would be nearly suffocating, but this was necessary so that we didn’t draw unnecessary attention.
The scent of smoke was better than the stench of skin.
He was efficient and careful. He did everything right. There was something vaguely sexy about that, too. About the way his movements were sure and utterly confident. His brow furrowed over his glasses and his hair tossed in the breeze. His ribs and back were bleeding through his torn t-shirt but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
I realized then that even if these unnamed feelings I had for Kane originated with a mental disorder- and let’s be honest, I wasn’t exactly in the greatest state of mind ever- they had grown into something more, something I couldn’t ignore or deny.
There was something between us. He was right about that.
I breathed out a long sigh. There was freedom in admitting that to myself. I had been tangled up in denial and self-doubt, but getting it off my chest felt liberating.
And because I could admit that to myself, I could also face the other facts. I felt attracted to Kane yes, but nothing as deep as what I felt for Hendrix.
In fact, I truly believed that if Kane and I had met in normal circumstances and he had given me a chance to get to know him in my own time, my feelings for him would be very similar to what I felt for Vaughan, a fond, adoring kind of friendship.
But Kane hadn’t behaved like Vaughan, so my relationship with Kane was infinitely more complicated. Plus, there was this whole element of danger to it that excited me in ways I was ashamed of.
Ashamed but not surprised.
My adrenaline-riddled life had turned me into an adventure junkie. I felt it even in the few days we’d spent in this cabin. I wasn’t capable of sitting still anymore. I was too used to fighting, to killing, and to feeling so ramped up with energy and excitement that my head felt close to exploding.
The days of living a normal, peaceful existence were behind me.
To a certain extent I craved the activity of the fight, the excitement and engagement.
It wasn’t a quality I liked about myself, or even felt tolerant of. But I couldn’t help it. These were emotions inside of me that I fought, but fought back just as hard.
And Kane gave me all of that in this sick, twisted game.
The realization made me sick to my stomach. I would never choose Kane over Hendrix. Never. I had darkness inside me, but I wouldn’t let it control me. I wouldn’t let it overcome me and make my decisions for me.
That was the inherent difference between Kane and me.
We both struggled with the evil side of our humanity. We were both capable of good and honor. We both lived in glowing moments of pure righteousness, but we also felt the depths of depravity- his from the world he lived in daily and mine from the constant taste of evil that seemed to taint everything I touched and experienced. We both warred with the ugliness, with the despair.
With the decay.
But he had given up and given in.
And I still fought against it. My war was so much deeper than with Zombies, with even Matthias. I battled a monster inside of me.
Kane had embraced his and let it define him.
But I would not do that.
And not just for the eternal soul I wanted to believe stood with the hope of an afterlife; but because I had more than just myself to think about.
Page in the other room. Haley, my sister, my soul sister. King, Harrison, Nelson, Vaughan, Tyler, Miller, even Gage… friends that had become family, people that had become dependents.
And most of all Hendrix.
These reasons made me fight tooth and nail to keep my sanity, to keep whatever innocence remained, to keep my head above the violent waves that threatened to pull me under and fill my lungs with their corruption.
So yes, for Kane, I felt sympathy, compassion, and stirrings in my chest that did not belong, but were there all the same. But I would never let myself fall for him. I would never give in to that malicious temptation because that would be my ruining.
He would destroy me.
Even if he didn’t mean to, it would happen. I couldn’t save him.
I wasn’t strong enough.
But easily, oh, so easily, he could ruin me.
Kane looked up from the fire he built and our gazes collided with that same heaviness that they always did. He didn’t smile; he didn’t do anything but stare at me.
I could see the emotion flickering behind his expression even from here. He was fighting with what to feel for killing again. I easily recognized his internal battle because it was something I went through daily. Eventually he tilted his chin in acknowledgment and went back to staring at the burning body in front of him. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt over his nose and sat b
ack on his heels. His arms encircled his knees and he watched the flames with a resigned expression.
Necessary.
His kill had been necessary and he did not feel remorse.
And he probably shouldn’t.
But it was the complete acceptance of his deeds that unnerved me. It was that same way he dealt with Miller, with me… with anything. He decided something and his decision was infallible. The rest of us were expected to change for him.
To conform to him.
In that way, he was so much like his father I knew that nothing I felt for him was a true threat to me or to Hendrix.
I couldn’t ever love someone like that. I wouldn’t give my heart to someone who only cared enough that I did what he said, when he said it.
I wasn’t some tamed creature that belonged in a civilized society. I teetered on the edge of madness daily. I lived in the wilderness now.
I was wild. A savage beast that could not be caged.
And that was exactly what Kane had set out to do.
Hendrix never intended to keep me leashed, only nearby. That was why he would win. That was why my heart would always belong to him.
Kane would never understand me so he could never capture me like he wanted.
“Where’s Kane?” Linley asked from behind me.
I hadn’t heard her come in, so I jumped a little at the sound of her frigid, but polite voice. I nodded my head toward the window. “There was a Feeder out there. He took care of it.”
She walked over next to me and rested her folded hands on the counter. “He’s good at that,” she murmured. “He takes care of a lot of things.”
I had expected her to reference his killing skills, so she surprised me again. “Do you mean he’s really good at kidnapping? Because it doesn’t matter how good he is, it’s going to get him killed.”
She made a noise in her throat and folded her arms across her chest. “Your perspective of this world is infinitesimal.”
I tore my gaze from Kane and turned to face her. “Enlighten me.”
She continued to stare at Kane. “We are on the cusp of a new civilization, a new government, a new way of life. We are going to transform this country into an even better version than before the infection. And Kane is a part of that. He’s the right-hand man to what is going to be the most powerful authority in the world. And he wants you. He chose you to be a part of that with him. You should be grateful. You should be respectful for the opportunity he is giving you.”
“That’s just the thing,” I argued. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for any of this. He’s forcing me into his world, when I don’t want anything to do with any of your new world order.”
“You prefer the anarchy?”
“I prefer my freedom.” She finally turned to face me and so I promised her, “And so does everyone else I know. Complete subservience isn’t going to be as easy as you think. You’re delusional if you think you can just demand people start following you and expect that they will.”
“I’m not delusional because I watch it happen every day. I watch hundreds of people beg my husband for citizenship on a daily basis. I watch my son command armies and my husband lead people in safety and peace. I’m not delusional because everything my husband wants is happening before my very eyes. You are the delusional one for ignoring the truth, for turning a blind eye to what is unfolding right in front of you.”
I realized I couldn’t argue with her. Hundreds of people? Daily? She didn’t seem to be lying, and I didn’t have evidence to prove that she was.
“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I still don’t want to join your world. I still don’t want to stay with Kane.”
I pushed off the counter, anxious to get out of her presence when she stopped me with her next words, “He loves you, Reagan. And my son has never loved anything in his entire life.”
“That’s not my problem.” My voice was a whisper of brokenness while hers was ripe with conviction.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s not a problem, it’s a gift. My son is giving you a gift, the greatest gift he has to give.”
I left her then. I didn’t have a response and I didn’t even understand my own reaction.
All I knew was the waves of sadness that washed over me and crashed against my fragile chest. His love was a gift but I was the wrong person to accept it. And with those newly admitted feelings for him, this made me infinitely heartbroken. Kane thought I could save him, but he was wrong.
I was going to break him.
I was going to kill him.
I already knew that I would never come back from this. Kane had set a chain of events into motion that would forever haunt me and ultimately be his end.
Even now I couldn’t help but wish that he hadn’t done this, that he hadn’t dragged me into this.
But this time I didn’t wish it for my sake… but for his.
Chapter Two
Linley was back in the kitchen with the dishes from dinner and Page had been sent to bed a half hour ago. Kane and I were both in the living room because… basically because that was our only option in this house. I could go to bed if I wanted, but I didn’t like being alone in there.
I knew it was stupid, but it was easier to hate Kane when I had to sit face to face with him. When he left me alone, I remembered the parts about him I didn’t hate.
My thoughts were dangerous these days.
But then again so was Kane.
God, he knew what he was doing.
It was like… over the last two years, I realized I had been designed for an Apocalypse, specifically of the Zombie variety. I might not have been trained in the art of killing and survival prior to the infection, like Kane or the Parkers. But I had this innate ability to adapt to my surroundings and to survive against all the odds stacked against me.
While the rest of the human population dwindled, I got my shit together and stuck it out. Haley, too. At first I questioned this a lot. Why me? Why could I land my shots when the next guy became Zombie food? Why was I able to dodge another bullet while others died or added brains to their diet?
Most of the time, this ability carried a massive amount of guilt. I felt guilty that I could survive while others could not.
But it was a talent, a talent I had nurtured and honed into a very valuable skillset.
Kane was the same way with his manipulation and control. He was good at that. He was good at convincing me he wasn’t a bad guy, but simply misunderstood. He was good at playing the soft tones of “victim” and forcing my emotions to empathize with him. He was really good at forcing his control over me.
He wasn’t necessarily great at getting me to feel good about it, but dragging me out here, to the middle of nowhere, without a car, without weapons for me to grab and bringing Page along with him? I mean, he’d thought of every angle and possibility. He’d locked me in here with paralyzing force.
That took talent. In a lot of ways I believed he had been born for this time and place, too.
Maybe we all had been.
Maybe this was some great design of the Cosmos. We were all pawns in this galactic game of chess. The right players had been moved into place and the time appointed where we would fight for our lives against monsters and men. Good vs. evil vs. evil.
“I would give anything to know your thoughts right now,” Kane said softly, pulling me out of my internal philosophical debate.
I laughed sadly. “No, you wouldn’t. You would hate it.”
“Reminding yourself I’m the bad guy?” he guessed.
Accurate.
“Among other things.” I slid forward on the couch. “You’re bleeding again.”
Kane had come inside a julienned mess. His skin had been grated open all along his ribs and he hadn’t stopped bleeding all evening. Linley had cleaned his wounds and bandaged him expertly, but the gashes just would not clot.
“Will you help me?” he lowered his gaze to my hands that twisted
together on my lap.
“Your mother would do a better job.” I glanced at the kitchen; maybe I would call Linley in here before he-
“Please, Reagan?” he asked in that damn voice that pitched lower and held all his delicate humanity- what was left of it anyway.
I shrugged. “No complaining, then.”
“What would I complain about?”
I grinned evilly. “Come here.”
He sat down on the coffee table and gave me his back. With wooden efforts he tugged off his fresh but bloodied t-shirt and I suddenly stood face-to-face with Kane Allen’s back.
It was a back.
That was all that it was.
A back. It had a spine. And shoulder blades. There was muscle. A hell of a lot of muscle that rippled and flexed from the nape of his neck to the waistband of his athletic shorts. I watched, a little mesmerized, as he shifted into place and the lantern light flickered over the perfection of all that toned flesh. Turning my attention to anything but his spine and the way his body dipped perfectly into it, I noticed thick scars that ran along the top. Between both shoulders were a bunch of long lines raised from his otherwise perfect skin.
I ignored his seeping bandages for a moment and let my fingers dance in confusion along the scars. “What are these from?” I whispered, afraid to hear my own voice at that moment. I knew what they were from before asking.
I knew where they’d come from.
Kane glanced at me over his shoulder and frowned. “A long time ago.” His tone didn’t exactly invite further conversation but I needed to hear the words.
“Kane?”
He cleared his throat and squirmed a little. “I didn’t… I… what Miller went through, that wasn’t… I don’t really know-”
“Your dad,” I filled in for him when he struggled to finish a thought. “Your dad did this to you.”
“A long time ago,” he repeated firmly.
I pressed both palms against the warmth of his skin and let the feel of all that ugly brokenness press into me. “You never stood a chance.”