Page 76 of Worth the Ruin
He grips the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his breathing is choppy and ragged. His eyes are squeezed shut, and I know what’s going through his head: all the what-ifs, all the questions he doesn’t have answers to yet, all of the fear and the rage. The blistering hot, rabid, clawing rage that makes it hard to see or hear or feel anything else.
I start to reach out to pry his hands from the wheel but stop, realizing my thumb is still dislocated. I clench my teeth and pop the joint back into socket, hissing in a quick breath. He snaps his eyes open and turns to me, murder and questions and terror mixing in those green eyes that have somehow become the center of my world.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, wiggling my thumb. “Popped it out to slip the cuffs, but it’s fine now. It’s not the first time it’s happened, so it’s really not a big deal.” The cuffs in question still dangle from my right wrist and his nostrils flare when he notices. I reach over with my left hand and grip his chin, gently forcing his eyes from the cuffs to my face. “Hey,” I say softly.
He takes one long, deep, breath, like it’s the deepest one he’s taken in his entire life, and a shudder rocks through his body as he lets it out. It takes him a few more seconds, but he finally seems to claw his way out of the darkness. He leans in and kisses me, but instead of the desperate, frenzied kiss I’m expecting, it’s so soft and tender that it nearly breaks my heart. He pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine for another heartbeat before pulling away.
“Stay here.” He hops out of the car and opens the back, fumbling around before coming around to the passenger side. He opens the door and I twist to face him so that my feet rest on the running boards. He pours some water from a bottle onto a rag and wipes the blood off of my cheek and temple, moving gently when he reaches my forehead. I wince and he grinds his teeth.
“This might need stitches,” he says gruffly, studying the gash where Pete or one of the other goons had slammed the butt of a rifle to knock me out. “What else?” he asks.
“Nothing. I busted loose and you rode in like the White Knight before they could do anything else. I promise.”
He reaches over my head and grips the top of the Jeep, his whole body tense and rigid, and stares up at the sky as if holds all the answers. I shouldn’t notice how his shirt rides up, revealing a strip of smooth, toned skin, the bottom edges of his snake and dagger tattoo peeking out from below the hem, but I do and I reach out and settle my hands there, needing his skin against mine. He exhales roughly before tilting his head back down to meet my gaze.
“I’m ok, Austin. I’m here and I’m ok and everything is fine.”
“God, Melody, I thought…”
He makes a choking sound, like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, and suddenly his lips are on mine again, hard and desperate this time. I welcome it, running my hands up his stomach and chest, around to the small of his back and pull him closer to me, settling his hips between my own. I don’t know how long we kiss for, but it feels like forever. It could be forever and I’d die happy. In his arms, his lips on mine, is exactly where I want to spend the rest of my life.
Which is why, when he’d told me he had a really crazy question to ask me, I’d grinned like a lunatic, knowing exactly what he was going to say and exactly what my answer was goingto be. I didn’t care that we’d only been “together” for a couple of months. I didn’t care that people might think it was crazy or that he was forcing me or who knows what else. I didn’t care about anything but marrying Austin Traeger.
So, that’s what we did. There are no rules for marriages in the apocalypse—no licenses or witness requirements or ceremonies, unless you want them, of course. So, we’d just made the decision that we wanted to be husband and wife, and so we were. We’d found rings at a jewelry store in the town down the road from The Cove, and that was that. We’re married. We’re together, forever, in every way possible. I’m his and he’s mine, and I never thought I’d feel like this again.
But more importantly, I fucking refuse to give it up. He said that we were worth all the ruin of this world, and I happen to fucking agree. He is worth everything.
We finally pull away and I ask, “How did you get away from Craig?”
He arches a brow. “Didn’t have to.”
“But they said…”
“Craig was all too happy to play along and tell those fuckers whatever I told him to once I cut the first finger off. So, he told Pete that I was under control, but really, the calvary was riding in the whole time.”
“That’s my guy,” I say, leaning in to kiss him softly again, going for levity.
“This can’t keep happening,” Austin whispers against my lips.
“I’m fine,” I tell him again, pulling back.
“For now. Christ, Melody, you can’t keep being put in the crosshairs because of me, because of my past actions.” He runs a hand roughly through his hair.
“Everything you did, you did for them,” I say fiercely, fire roaring in my belly.
“I know that. You know that. No one else does and trust me, most of them wouldn’t give a shit even if they did.” He shakes his head, staring off into the middle distance somewhere. “I thought maybe…”
“What?” I ask, pulling his face back towards mine, making him focus on me again. “What did you think?”
“I just thought that maybe we could have a normal fucking life together, Melody. I knew people would never love me, but I thought that maybe they could just…let mebe. Let me quietly fade into the background while others took up the mantle and could just move on. I sure as shit never thought they’d go after you. If I had known, Melody, I never would have?—”
“Never would have…what? Decided to marry me?” I ask with a pointed look.
“No, of course not.” He rubs his eyes in frustration and I wish I help him somehow. “I just…I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have let people see? Maybe we should have kept things quiet?”
“I don’t want to skulk around in the shadows, Austin. For the first time in so fucking long I amhappy, and I don’t want that happiness marred with darkness and secrets.”
“So instead it should be marred by people trying to fuckingkill you??” His voice rises and I can tell that he’s struggling to keep his emotions under control.
