Every time I tried to hurry him along, he slowed down. Every time I made a hungry noise, he murmured soothing words and tried to contain my frantic motions. It was delicious torture, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I was on the verge of begging, pleading for him to do something, to do anything that would drag us both closer to the edge. I had one hand over his where it still played between my legs, holding on as he thrust steadily into me, refusing to be rushed.
When my orgasm finally hit, it was like a rainbow bursting through the sky on a cloudy day. Suddenly there were colors everywhere, stretching as far as the eye could see. It was bright and magical, spiraling long and slow, making me gasp, and bringing the sting of tears to my eyes. Back when I was younger and filled with foolish notions of what loving and being with this man would be like, this was the kind of experience I always imagined. This was what love felt like, and I knew Noah Booker was the only man who was ever going to bring these feelings inside of me to the surface.
I felt Booker’s release a moment later. It was more of a rolling stream than the usual rushing river, and I could tell he was feeling the same connection I was. I wasted my first sexual experience on petty revenge trying to prove something, but this moment, this was the first time I’d always wanted with the one I deserved.
Booker’s arms tightened around my waist and he nuzzled into me. A loud yawn sounded from above my head and when I wiggled around to look up at him, I noticed how tired he looked. I was going to have to make sure he started taking better care of himself. He couldn’t keep operating on no sleep.
“Hey, Noah.” I spoke quietly just in case he’d already drifted off. I kissed the underneath side of his jaw, wrinkling my nose when his whiskers tickled my lips. “I have something to ask you.”
He grunted but peeled open a slate-colored eye and watched me as I chewed on my lip and tried to figure out the best way to say everything that had been on my mind.
“How would you feel about going back to your hometown with me?”
His eyes flew open and his jaw dropped in an almost comical way. Before he could launch into the protest I could see building in his gaze, I put a finger over his lips and explained, “I want to go back so we can help all the other Noah Bookers out there. The Point doesn’t need us, Booker. The Point is going to be fine. There are so many other places out there that need us. So many people we can help. I figured why not start at the beginning.” I gave him a lopsided grin. “And I’ve always wanted to see an actual, working farm.” It was a new obsession, one I couldn’t shake the longer I thought about it.
He was quiet for a long time. I thought for sure he was going to tell me ‘no’. I was ready to be disappointed but understanding. If he didn’t want to go back to his hometown, sadly there were a million more to choose from.
“I promised myself I would never go back. Everything that went wrong in my life started in that place.” I could hear the pain in his voice, and I almost regretted asking him to revisit his awful past.
“I know. That’s why I think it would be a good place for us to start. We can burn it all down, Booker. Take every bad memory and turn it to ash and smoke. Then we’ll rebuild something unbreakable on top of the ruins. We can do this. I think you need to do this. You’ve walked through fire for a long time. What if all of it was just preparation so you could handle the heat of walking back into hell?” Maybe I was putting it on a little thick, but I was determined to make him see this was something that would be good for him . . . good for us.
After a while, he sighed and pulled me back into an embrace that had my head tucked under his chin and cheek resting on the steady thump of his heart.
“I told you I would follow you anywhere. I trust you to lead the way.” Because he loved me . . . and respected me . . . and trusted me to figure out where we were going, even if the path wasn’t clear.
“I promise I won’t ever lead you astray, Noah.” He wasn’t the only one in this relationship who could keep a promise.
Six Years Later. . . . The Middle of Nowhere
When the big, black SUV rolled to a stop next to me, I told myself not to cower and cry. A cloud of dust from the backcountry road lifted and surrounded me as I waved a hand in front of my face and choked on the dirt. I’d been walking for what felt like hours, or maybe it was days. I was starving, thirsty, dirty, and scared. So scared.
Everyone you asked said to stay away from the old farmhouse down the long and winding road. Everyone in town, and beyond, avoided the sprawling farm like their lives depended on it. They also whispered about the blacked-out SUVs coming and going from the property at all hours of the day and night. They watched the scary men and women. The ones that arrived shortly after the new owners took over the farm. All the new residents seemed to be armed to the teeth and watched the locals with hard eyes. Everyone gossiped about the man with the strange accent and the cold eyes when he came to town, his arm always around a tall woman who moved like she was floating through the air. They avoided the one with the tattoo on his face and murder in his scowl. They gawked at the guy with glasses and his girlfriend, not that either seemed to notice. Everyone wondered about the fair-haired couple who often swept through the ramshackle town, wondering how two people as polished and pristine as they were even found this place to begin with.
Rumors ran rampant, and my favorite one was about the big man with the scar on his face. They said he grew up here. They talked about his mom being trash and how he went away for a long, long time. But now he was back and things were getting so much better. It gave me hope I could find my way out one day, too.
No one was sure what happened on the farm, but everyone noticed that as soon as the new residents moved in, the drug dealers moved out. The users seemed to disappear, or in some cases, reclaim their former lives. Small businesses in town started to thrive, and an unknown source was funneling money into the badly neglected economy of this small town. Teachers were hired. The police force was bulked up. Ranches and farms were suddenly given the tools they needed to recoup decades of loss. The entire town, close to collapsing in on itself and becoming nothing but another void, had been rebuilt. It was still small, just a blip on the map, but it was no longer dying. Everyone silently speculated the people who bought the old farmhouse were responsible for all the changes. They were both feared and admired, as all legends were.
Only a moron would attempt to talk to such a mythical creature. A moron, or someone with nothing left to lose. It was debatable which category I fell more heavily into. I definitely had a foot straddling the dividing line of each.
I expected the passenger door to swing open. Instead, I heard the opposite door open and a minute later I found myself face to face with a giant. Well, not a real giant, but the man was huge. I barely reached his belly button, even when I snapped my spine straight and told myself to stand as tall as possible. I wiped the cuff of my grubby shirt over my eyes, blinking back tears and trying desperately to keep from bolting. It took me so long to get here. I couldn’t chicken out now.
“Are you lost?” The deep rumble of the man’s voice had me shaking in my worn-out shoes. They were more duct tape than rubber and canvas at this point, but I was too scared to be embarrassed by them like I normally was.
I had to clear my throat three times before I could squeak out any words. When I finally forced them out I sounded like a girl, my voice was so high and thready. “No. I’m not.” I wrapped my arms around myself and looked down at my holey shoes. “I walked here from the Valley. I want to talk to the person who owns the farmhouse.”
One of his eyebrows lifted, the one with the scar. I liked the look of that line down his face. It made him seem extra badass and intimidating. Maybe one day I would have a cool scar like his and everyone would be afraid of me.
“The Valley is pretty far from here. At least an hour-and-a-half drive. You walked?” His head tilted to the side as he continued to watch me closely.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Things in the
Valley aren’t as good as they are here. My dad has a small trailer and too many of us kids living in it. There’s no food. No heat. No running water.” And the old man was getting crazier as each day passed. My brothers and sisters didn’t have anything to eat. Yet Dad somehow managed to find money for guns, guns, and more guns. I was worried he was going to start using my siblings for target practice any day now. I’d already been clipped in a ‘hunting accident’. I didn’t believe for a single second my father hadn’t meant to shoot me. “I’m desperate. I don’t know who to go to for help. None of us kids have ever been to school. The police up there don’t go on private land. We don’t got no other family and all our mothers have disappeared.” It was probably too early to tell this giant I was pretty sure my father killed them all after they served their purpose. He wasn’t nice to the girls. Treating them like servants. I asked regularly if he was doing bad things to them, but all three of my sisters hardly spoke.
Another assessing gaze drifted over me. “Pretty bold move, walking all this way, not knowing if you’d be welcome.”
I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t got nothing to lose . . . sir.” I tacked the last part on belatedly, hoping he would see how badly I needed someone to step in and fix all of this for me. “If I get turned away, I’m no worse off than I was before.” Which was a lie. Dad was going to skin me alive for being gone several days. I was the one who took care of the kids. He was going to break down without me there.
“How old are you, son?” The rough cadence softened slightly, and I finally felt like I could breathe again.
I lifted my head and met the man’s steely gaze. “I think thirteen, or fourteen. I lost count a couple years ago. We don’t do things like birthdays in the Valley.”
He muttered something under his breath. “What’s your name?”
“Uhh, Campbell. But I can’t remember if it’s my first or last. That’s just what Dad’s always called me.” For all I knew, I was named after the endless amounts of soup he had stored in the survivalist pantry. That’s right. We starved while he prepared for the end of the world.
“It’s your name. Doesn’t matter where in line it happens to fall. I’m Booker. It’s nice to meet you, Campbell. Climb into the car and I’ll give you a ride to the farmhouse.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and pointed at the SUV.
I wanted to collapse with relief. I must have wobbled some, because suddenly a massive hand was locked around my elbow, keeping me upright. I was ashamed the stranger had to practically lift me into the car. As soon as he was back behind the wheel, he handed me a bottle of water and told me it would only be a short drive. I didn’t realize we were not alone until a tiny voice from the back of the car inquired, “Daddy, who is that?”
In shock, I turned my head and encountered the giant’s mini-me. The little girl had dark hair tied in twin braids on either side of her head, and the same odd gray-blue eyes as the man sitting next to me. He grinned into the rearview mirror and told her, “Just someone who needs some help.”
She nodded as if she completely grasped the situation. “You’re taking him to Mommy.”
A nod followed. “I am.”
The little girl grinned back at the big man and I noticed she was missing a few teeth. She reminded me of my youngest sister. “Mommy will help you.”
I blinked, not sure what to say.
“That’s right, Charley, Mommy will help him.” The little girl seemed satisfied by the exchange and went back to playing with the doll in her hand.
It was so bizarre. I didn’t know the man next to me at all. It shouldn’t be difficult to picture him as a devoted, caring father, but it was. He looked like a killer, not a caretaker.
I fidgeted in my seat and toyed with the water bottle in my hands. I wanted to chug the entire thing but knew it would make me sicker than a dog if I did.
“I can’t believe you stopped and picked me up with your kid in the car. That’s dangerous. Haven’t you taught her strangers are bad news?” What was I doing?! This guy was my only way into the farmhouse and I was insulting his parenting ability.
He looked at me with his raised eyebrow again and this time his grin was aimed at me. “Kid, no offense, but you aren’t a threat to me or my kid. You look like you’re ready to pass out, and I can tell just by looking at you how malnourished you are. The only reason you made it down the road as far as you did was because you look like a gentle breeze might blow you away. Charley knows how to identify a threat. She also knows when to show compassion.” The grin turned into something sharp and scary in the blink of an eye. “She learned her empathy from her mother, so don’t get any stupid ideas.”
I quivered and tried to make myself as small as possible in the seat next to him, “No, sir.”
When we stopped in front of the sprawling house, I gulped, and not just because there were several people walking around carrying weapons. The house was no dilapidated, wooden structure. No, in front of me was an amazing design constructed of iron, glass, and steel. It looked like something you saw on TV. It did not belong on a farm with horses, goats, and chickens. It made the classic red and white barn located a few hundred yards away look ridiculous. I must have let the words slip out because the man next to me chuckled as he helped his daughter out of the car.
She screamed something about petting the kitties and took off running for the barn as fast as her little legs would carry her. Immediately, two women seemed to appear out of nowhere and followed behind the little girl. One gave the man next to me a little wave of greeting, the other didn’t take her eyes off the child.
“My wife wanted a farm after she graduated from law school. I gave it to her when she passed the bar exam. I wanted her safe. We compromised and ended up with a little bit of each. It may look silly to everyone else, but it works for us.” He stopped at the front door, and I watched in fascination as he touched a keypad and poked in some kind of numerical code. Of course, a house like this wouldn’t have something as simple as a lock and key system.
The interior of the house was a modern marvel. Nicer than anything I’d ever seen. I was too scared to touch anything or even sit on anything with my tattered clothing and dusty skin, but I followed the massive man down a long hallway, and into a room full of windows and light. It was an office of some sort. A big glass desk sat in the center of the room, and there were metal bookshelves packed floor to ceiling. A couch that looked like it was made of red velvet was pushed against one wall, and two matching chairs sat in front of the futuristic office furniture. A woman was standing with her back to us. I could see the view she was looking at through the window. It showed the main road we had just driven up, and the rolling field of the farm on either side of it.
Her hair was almost white and hung in a sleek ponytail down her back. When she turned around, I couldn’t hold in a gasp of surprise. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She didn’t look like any lawyer I’d ever imagined.
Her eyes were a thousand different shades of brown. Her smile was sweet. She was tall, like the man behind me, but nowhere near as imposing. She was also holding a baby. The small bundle was wrapped in a blue blanket, so I assumed it was a little boy. She was cooing to the baby and I thought she looked like a princess. But not one who would wear a crown made out of jewels and precious metals. No, there was something about her that made me think her crown would be crafted out of something fierce, like thorns and bones. For a moment, I almost thought I’d died out there on that dusty road.
“I just fed him. Why don’t you go put him down for a nap and I’ll have a chat with our guest.” Her multi-colored gaze skated over me the same way her husband’s had. I felt stripped bare and emotionally naked. “Scrounge up something for our guest to eat, as well. He’s skin and bones.”
The giant wandered over and collected the baby. He kissed the blonde woman on the lips, then kissed the baby on top of his fuzzy head. I could see a tuft of whitish hair sticking out. The little boy was going to take after his mom, it s
eemed.
She motioned to one of the soft chairs and told me to have a seat. I collapsed in a heap and told myself not to stare, but she was too pretty not to.
“What brings you to my farm?”
“I can’t afford a lawyer.” I gulped, breathed out hard through my nose, and ordered myself not to cry. It was useless. I broke down in a sobbing, shaking mess. This was my breaking point. It wasn’t until I felt the brush of her fingers through my hair that I managed to choke out, “I need help. Please help me. Things are bad at home, so bad. I’ve tried so hard to take care of everyone, but I can’t do it anymore.”
My shoulders shook and I couldn’t catch my breath.
The beautiful woman touched her lips to my cheek, and even though I was certain I’d died walking over here, I knew that she was an angel standing next to me. “Don't worry, sweet boy.” She found me a tissue and gave me a smile so bright I swore I could feel it shining inside of my soul. “I’m here to help. It’s what I came here to do.”
Sometimes the end . . . is just the beginning.
~Honestly this little scene is selfishly all for me, but I’m happy to share with you guys. Bax has always been very special to me for a lot of reasons, and for once I am having a really difficult time telling a character goodbye. I really felt like there was no way to end this series without going back to the beginning.
“I remember the first time you brought me here. I couldn’t believe how pretty the Point looked. It was like it was a whole new city looking down on it from so high up.” We were parked up on the high outlook that perched over the city. An old haunt for many reasons, one of which was that it was often quiet and high above the grime and filth of the city. Dovie’s voice was wistful and soft with fondness over the memory of that night.