Page 36 of Outbreak

“I’m fine,” he whispers into my ear. But before I can argue or protest, he tightens his hold on me, snaking his hand up to rest at the base of my throat. “Sleep now, Rue. We’ve got a long day tomorrow. You’ll need your rest.”

I don’t think I’d be much use to him anyway right now. I can feel myself slipping into sleep before he even finishes his sentence. I barely register his next words.

“And you haven’t begged for it yet.”

CHAPTER 29

Rue

The sun filters through the sheer curtains when I peel my eyes open. It’s peaceful and quiet… and cold. Turning over, I find that I’m alone in this bed, in a strange room, in a house I don’t know. The memories of last night come flooding in, and I lift the soft blanket and sheets to make sure I didn’t dream it. Nope. I’m naked, wearing only the collar that feels more comforting than it should. The sheets are cool on my warm skin when I roll to Ghost's side of the bed.

Where the fuck is he?

I savor the feeling of clean sheets that smell of lilac and spring. I have no idea the next time I’ll lay my head in an actual bed again, so I’m in no rush to leave the safety and comfort this one provides. I have no idea where Ghost is or what waits for me on the other side of that door. Letting my mind drift to the events of last night, not the awkward dinner or our gracious and kind of creepy host, but to the way Ghost brought me the most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had.

The way his hands made sparks ignite and made me forget for just a little while that the world we knew is gone. The way he called me ‘his girl’ and how I felt more right than anything since…

No. Don’t go there.

There was a time in my life—and a boy—who I thought was my whole world. But that’s over now, and if Ghost is helping me forget about that time, I’ll take it. I can’t keep living my life in the past, looking for him in crowds and hoping that one day he’ll show up and say he’s sorry for leaving me behind. That’s a fairytale and we’re now living in an alternate reality as it is. It’s time to let the what-ifs and what-should-have-beens go, and his betrayal, too.

It’s time to focus on the future, no matter how bleak that future seems to look now. I can make myself happy in this new world—with Ghost. He matches my energy and doesn’t make me feel bad for the fucked-up things my mind and body crave. He protects me, and no one in my life has ever truly protected me since my parents died. I don’t even remember them—just the fantasies I've created in my mind where they come back to save me. But fantasies like that don’t happen. The only real thing in my life right now… is Ghost. I might not know what his face looks like yet, but my soul knows him. There’s something freeing about not knowing. It takes away the physical barriers of getting to know someone and intensifies the internal attraction to the person. He’ll reveal himself when he’s ready, but I don’t see it changing how I feel about him. I don’t know how to describe my feelings. You’d think an empath who is both drained and fueled by emotions would be able to put into words her own feelings. But I can’t. All I know is I don’t have to hide who I am for the first time in a very long time, and that feels amazing. I can be unapologetically me, and he meets me where I’m at.

When the urge to pee gets too overwhelming, I force myself out of bed. The hardwood feels cool against my bare feet as I pad across the room and into the bathroom. Once I’m done, I grab the little bag of toiletries Ghost packed for me, brushing my teeth and hair before going back into the room and gettingdressed. Might as well get this day started. I have no idea what time it is, but it feels like I slept in. I hope Ghost wants to get back on the road before we lose too much daylight. It’s not safe at night, and I don’t want to stay here again. I appreciate the hospitality, but his friend gives me bad juju. I want to get going as soon as possible.

Once I'm dressed and have slipped on my boots that Ghost must have cleaned for me, I creep the door open and peer out. Not seeing anyone in the hallway, I continue down the stairs and find Aspen in the kitchen, breakfast cooked and laid out on the bar. From the looks of it, everyone ate but me.

“Good morning,” I say softly as I enter the kitchen. She doesn’t respond but pulls a glass down from the cabinet and fills it with orange juice from a pitcher. I remember Ghost telling me I’m not allowed to speak to her without permission. She slides the glass over the island, gesturing with a nod to have a seat. She moves on autopilot in silence, piling my plate with eggs, bacon, toast, and an array of fresh fruit. Feeling uneasy and on edge at being alone, I look around the room, peering into others, trying to find Ghost.

“They're outside on the back deck,” she whispers, her eyes darting around to make sure no one heard her but me. I’m shocked she spoke at all, and when I smile at her, she tries to smile back, but it’s unnatural and forced, as if she doesn’t use the muscles in her face for smiling. The alarm bells are ringing in my head again.

Looking out the back window, where she nodded, I see the guys sitting on the porch drinking coffee and talking. I think it’s safe enough to try to find out what the fuck is going on in this house.

“Thank you,” I whisper back to her. “I don’t like not knowing where he is,” I admit, which feels… different on my tongue. Alook of longing and pain passes over her face in a flash before she fixes it and returns to her normal. “Can I ask you a question?”

She looks around again, shaking her head no and mumbling, “I-I’m not supposed to talk to you without permission.”

“It’s just us girls. I won’t tell, if you won’t.” Her eyes dart back outside for the millionth time since I walked into this kitchen, before she nods silently.

“I don’t know how much time we have before they come in, so I’m going to be frank with you, Aspen. Is everything okay here? Are you okay?” I let my eyes bleed with as much compassion as I could muster, hoping she feels how sincere I’m being. “I don’t yuck anyone’s yum, but I just get the sense that things aren’t what they seem in this house.”

“I—ummm,” she stutters, trying to gather her words as her eyes bounce between me and the window. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. Her lip trembles, and her voice breaks as she finally whispers, “Nothing is what it seems.”

Her eyes go distant, and it’s then I notice her face. Even in the dimly lit room last night, her skin was pale and gaunt-looking. Today, in the bright sunlight streaming into the house, her skin is flushed and blotchy. Icy fear tingles in my veins, and I sit back a little in my seat. “Are you sick, Aspen?”

A lone tear streams down her face as she slowly nods, still gazing out the window, her eyes locked on her husband. “I don’t want him to know. This is my way out, and it’s my choice.”

She takes the drying towel in her hands and wipes the moisture from her face, turning back around and busying herself with putting dishes away just as the back door swings open. I clear the emotion from my own face and pick up my fork. The food tastes like ash in my mouth as I try to process the almost coded conversation as Ghost comes up behind me, caging me into the island in my seat.

“Finish eating. Mav helped me find fuel this morning. We’ll leave as soon as you’re done.”

CHAPTER 30

Ghost

Something is not quite right with Rue this morning. She was sleeping so peacefully, and I knew she couldn’t get outside the house, so I let her sleep in.

Maverick was already awake, his wife cooking breakfast in the kitchen as he sat at the island with a cup of coffee and his laptop. I know the shit ain’t working, but he is nothing but a creature of habit. We sat and ate breakfast, keeping the conversation light and avoiding all of the important shit I needed to talk with him about.

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