Page 58 of Once Upon an Apocalypse

I hear five sets of feet march down the hallway to the back of the house and up the stairs. Jonah startles me as he crouches over Amos’ head. “Take the two guardians in the back. I’ll take the three upstairs,” he whispers, then points at the dead men surrounding Amos and me. “But first, make sure those three don’t get back up. You need to sever the spinal cord.”

His words shock me, but I don’t have time to question him as he sprints away. I do as I’m told though, slicing the spinal cords of the men who hadn’t been decapitated. Blindly following the orders of a man I hate, whom I distrust down to the marrow of my bones, I take a moment to think about this situation we are in. Jonah could have easily let his men rape and beat me just for me to heal and have them do it all over again. He could have captured me and brought me back to the bunker as a conquered prize.

Or perhaps…my thoughts are interrupted as I reach the end of the hallway. With quiet feet, I slide into the powder room next to the staircase. When I hear the guardians making their way back from investigating the kitchen and closets, I slam the door in their faces, knocking them on their asses.

A bullet hits me in the stomach, but I power through the pain, grabbing the gun from the woman’s loosened grasp before smashing her nose in with my boot-covered heel while firing a shot into her companion’s head. Turning them both over, I slice through their spinal cords. The implications of Jonah’s words scare the shit out of me. I need answers from him. But first, I need to make sure Amos is okay.

I sprint back to the living room, hoping that Jonah has dispatched the rest of his men upstairs. As I loosen the ropes around his hands, Amos wakes up. He groans loudly, reaching for his head. I help him sit up, which causes his eyes to fly open.

My arms circle around his waist carefully, but he pulls me in tighter, wincing at the pain in his ribs. I try to pull out but he won’t let me go, so I give in, lying my head against his solid chest and say, “I love you, too, Amos.”

His response was not what I expected. “Shit, Lori.” He lets me pull away this time. “Did you do all this?”

I follow his gaze, finally breathing a sigh of relief and silently hoping that he isn’t deflecting from the words I spoke to him. Why would he when he said those very words to me? Well, not to me, but at me. Same thing, right? I shrug and say, “I had some help.”

“From who?”

Jonah saunters in from the hallway, weapons looted from his fallen soldiers filling up his arms. He gently drops them to the ground before collapsing on the couch. “From me.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Amos sounds more curious than angry.

Before Jonah can introduce himself, I answer for him. “This is Jonah. Jonah Rosenberg. My…ex.”

“What the fuck is he doing here, Copperhead?” The anger in his voice has dissolved all curiosity. Amos seethes with hate. If he wasn’t so beat up, I’m sure he’d have Jonah in a headlock, ready to snap his neck. He turns his golden eyes to me, whispering loud enough for Jonah to hear, “I told you if I ever met this asshole, I’d kill him.”

“And I’d deserve it,” Jonah responds, casually folding his hands behind his head.

Chapter 37

AmosstaresatJonahwith a mixture of hatred and fear as I inspect the bruises on Amos’ face. When I attempt to lift his shirt to check on the damage to his ribs, Amos holds his shirt down.

“I’m okay, Lori. I’ve had much worse.”

“So have I.” I hold Amos’ gaze for so long it would feel uncomfortable with anyone else. I know he’s remembering the time he witnessed me fighting in Doctore’s Colosseum. The last thing I want to do is stir his anger, but I need him to know I am here for him like he was for me. We are in this together. We survive together.

Keeping my gaze, Amos asks, “What should we do with him?”

I fight the urge to loosen my eye contact. “I know you said no prisoners, but I think we should take him back with us. He could be useful.”

“Useful.” The golden flecks in Amos’ eyes lose their shine. “Is that the only reason?”

“Jealous, are we?” Jonah chuckles, becoming that arrogant man I met in the bunker.

Instead of giving in to my anger and decking Jonah in the face, I place my hands on Amos’ cheeks and pull him gently to my lips. His rigid body relaxes just enough to know he got my message. But I tell him with my words. “I love you, Amos.”

The relief I feel from his body is mirrored in his face as he sighs against my forehead, pressing a kiss there. “Okay.”

That’s all the response I need to know we are good, that nothing can break us. Not even a surprise appearance by my ex-boyfriend who happens to be a legatus—a commanding officer—in Doctore’s Praetorian Guard. I never thought I would see Jonah again. I hadn’t wanted to. Having him in the same room with me hurts in places I forgot existed within me. Then I remember the gun shot to my gut. Checking that there’s an exit wound brings attention to the blood seeping through my shirt.

Amos grunts through the pain as he kneels in front of me to examine the wound.

“Clean shot. Are you okay?” he asks, caressing the exposed skin there.

I nod, helping him stand up. On his feet, he grabs my hands, pulling me close to his side, and wraps an arm around my waist. The move feels so natural. Like we’ve been a couple for years when, in reality, we’ve only known each for eight months.

“Put all your weapons into that bag,” Amos instructs Jonah.

“Fuck that.” Jonah grabs the machete he placed on the couch, holding it to his chest. “I don’t go anywhere unarmed.”

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