Chapter 11

11

Three weeks later, it’s the day before I need to leave, and I really don’t want to do it.

Mack has been different ever since his breakdown during the massage. It’s like some sort of internal struggle has been resolved. He’s not the man he used to be—he’s quieter, more brooding—but that core of sweetness that’s always been at the heart of him has shown its face again.

So we’ve spent the past three weeks going through life together, doing chores around the cabin, hunting, fishing or driving to the market, and having a lot of sex.

I would have thought some of our enthusiasm might have waned after so many weeks, but it hasn’t. The sex is still as hot and wild and creative and needy as it was that very first week.

Today we went fishing in the morning and fried up our catch for lunch. I took a shower while Mack washed the dishes, and then he took a shower while I locked up the cabin in preparation for our regular afternoon in the bedroom.

We didn’t actually make it to the bed. Mack walked out of the bathroom naked and took me right there against the wall of the hallway. Then he carried me into the bedroom and fucked me on my hands and knees at the foot of the bed while he stood beside it. At that point, he was about to lose it, so I finished him off in my mouth. We dozed contentedly for an hour or so until Mack woke up and got going again. He spent a long time on foreplay until he finally had me ride his face until I came over and over again. Feeling ambitious, I eventually leaned over so I could take him in my mouth at the same time. I usually get too distracted to do that position effectively, but I did okay today. Mack came hard into my mouth just before I came again myself.

Now we’ve collapsed back on the bed, naked and tangled together as we try to catch our breath. He’s so winded his inhales are loud and hoarse, and he moans with each exhale.

I search my mind, but I honestly can’t remember him this wiped out after sex in our relationship before this cabin. Not just physically but in a way deeper than that. Like he’s pouring himself into it in a way he never did before.

Maybe that’s part of what’s changed for me.

Or maybe it’s simply that I’ve changed myself .

Either way, I’ve had none of the fears and anxiety spirals and confusion that used to plague me whenever I used to think through our relationship.

I know what I want now, and it’s simply my bad luck that Mack needs something different.

Part of me wishes I could stay with Mack in this cabin for the rest of our lives, and he might actually agree if I suggested it. But I can’t cut myself off from the rest of the world, from my community and friendships and work and purpose. Life here might be pleasant and simple, but it’s not full. It’s not complete.

And I’m not going to accept less than I want and need from a man for the long haul—even if that man is Mack. He isn’t like Josh at all. At all . But I can’t let another man decide what happens to me the way I did in my marriage. I need to take responsibility for myself. If Mack won’t leave this isolated bubble he’s been living in, then I’ll have to leave him.

He knows it too. He hasn’t even hinted at my doing anything different.

My cheek is resting against his chest. His heart has only slowed down a little. He’s gently stroking my loose hair and my back.

I can’t believe I have to let him go tomorrow. Quite possibly forever.

He’s not sleeping. It feels like he’s contemplating, but he doesn’t share any of his thoughts. Eventually I say idly, “ You don’t t suppose Logan is the one organizing the gangs at the border, do you?”

Mack lifts his head. Looks at me oddly. “You still thinking about him?”

“No, I was just?—”

“You’re thinking about him right after we have sex?” He doesn’t sound angry. Just confused and slightly hurt.

“No, Mack. Of course not. Not like that. I was thinking about tomorrow and then thinking about whatever plan Maria has in mind and then thinking about who might be organizing the gangs, and then I just wondered if it could possibly be Logan since he’s obviously a leader of some kind.” I raise my head so I can meet his gaze. He’s put his head back down on the pillow, but his eyes are resting on me. “You can’t really imagine I’d be daydreaming of someone else after the way we’ve been together these past weeks.”

He lets out a hoarse breath. “No. I wouldn’t think so. But I know we’re not… we’re not permanent. It’s only temporary. So you’re within your rights if you decide you want another man.” He clears his throat and glances away. “I just don’t… don’t want you to do that.”

My heart sinks at him confirming that our time together is coming to an end, but then it flutters unexpectedly at his halting admission. “I’m not. I told you before, and I meant it. If I ever have a man for real, it’s going to be you.”

That’s not exactly how I worded it before, and the words come out before I can second-guess them. It feels like a very big risk.

He doesn’t react to them though. He’s obviously still hung up on what I said earlier. “You’d be safe with Logan. As safe as it’s possible to be in this world. He’d take good care of you. Of anyone he considered his.”

“Mack, where is all this even coming from? You know I don’t want a man to just take care of me. If I did, why wouldn’t I have jumped at the opportunity a couple of years ago when I learned you wanted more than what we had?”

Mack never told me. Not once. It wasn’t until that one particularly vulnerable conversation I had with Layne that I realized what everyone else had always understood. That Mack wanted more. He was waiting for me. And he might never let go if I didn’t make him.

“Maybe I didn’t have enough to offer,” he mumbles now in response to my direct question.

I choke on indignation. “Mack, stop it. Stop it! I know you’re going through some hard stuff, and I totally get that. But how can you question what I’ve always told you and what I’m telling you again right now? No one has ever— ever —taken care of me as well as you have, and no one ever will. I just want…” I trail off because I’m about to admit everything.

And that will make Mack feel bad and guilty.

I’m not going to do that to him again.

“What do you want, angel? ”

I swallow over a flutter from the endearment and mentally scramble for an honest answer that won’t put more of a burden on Mack. “It’s too much to wrap my mind around right now, much less put into words. For now I want to enjoy the rest of today with you. Then I want to go back to the farms tomorrow and meet up with the others to help with the attack. After that…?” I shrug. “I guess I’ll figure it out then.”

He lets out a breath, a lot of the tension blowing out of his body with the air. “Okay.” He strokes my hair and gently guides my head down so it’s resting on his chest again. “I’m sorry I questioned you. I’ve been doubting myself lately. And it’s hard not to let that make me doubt everything.”

“Yeah.” I relax on top of him, caressing his firm side and trim hip. “I get that. But at the risk of bringing the whole thing up again, what about Logan? You don’t think he?—”

“No. It’s not him.”

“You’re sure?” I’m actually relieved at the clear answer since all my instincts were leading me away from Logan being that person.

“Yeah. I’m sure. Logan is not a good guy. He’s like an old-school mafia don. He doesn’t hesitate to use violence, and he can be ruthless. But he holds himself to a code, and even in war, he’d only move on soldiers. These border gangs captured Jimmy and sweet little Chloe when they’d done nothing. When they’d simply been living their lives. Logan would never do that.”

“Why do you think they kidnapped Jimmy and Chloe at all? I’ve never understood it. Ben and Greta think they were going to use them as leverage to take over their farm.”

“That could be it. The gangs have control of their territory, but it’s nothing but broken-down remains of the old world. A farm would give them a regular supply of fresh food. Maybe they thought they could eventually take over all the farms and use that community as some sort of labor force. I don’t know. Whatever they were intending back then, they gave up when they met with real resistance. But who knows when they’ll try something again. It’s got to be tempting. A thriving, productive neighborhood within their reach.”

“Yeah. Maria is right that something needs to be done.”

“It does. But the person in charge of the gangs isn’t Logan. He’d never go after the innocent. Plus his territory extends through The Wild, but he doesn’t operate outside it. Ever. I’m not sure he’s even set foot outside of The Wild since Impact.”

“Okay. Good. That makes sense. I was just making sure. What about that Colt guy who kidnapped Elizabeth? Could he?—”

“No, I’ve heard of him a couple times in passing. He’s got some territory deep in The Wild, but it’s far from the border.”

“Who do you think is in charge then?”

“Honestly, I’d guess it’s just a random gang leader who got ambitious. He rallied some support with other gangs and then capitalized on the momentum. I don’t think it’s anyone special. We’ll probably never know the person’s name. It’s a criminal with delusions of grandeur.”

“That makes it worse somehow.”

“Yeah. It does.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes, both of us wrapped up in our own thoughts.

Then I finally murmur, “I can’t believe I have to leave tomorrow.”

“I know.” He hesitates, and I can feel tension in the air as he decides to say the next thing. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t have to what?”

“Leave. Tomorrow. You can stay with me.”

My face twists, and my body shakes briefly with a deep surge of emotion. “I wish I could.”

“Okay,” he says, sliding his big hand down the length of my hair again. “I didn’t think so. I’ll drive you tomorrow so you get there safely.”

I press a kiss on his chest. “Thank you.”

The following day, Mack and I make it through the border region with only some minor trouble. We have to backtrack and go far around a large group camping out directly on our route, and we have to shoot back at a couple of bad-tempered travelers we encounter. But we make it through, and eventually we’re crossing the rolling hills and pastures that lead to the farming community.

Everyone is supposed to meet up at the Carlsons’ farm by tomorrow.

When we get to the big farmhouse, it looks normal. Obviously most of the others haven’t arrived yet. There are no extra vehicles, and Maria and her crew aren’t camping anywhere nearby.

Hopefully plans haven’t been changed in the past six weeks while Mack and I have been out of touch.

The first people we see are Chloe and Jimmy. Jimmy is working with a long machete-type knife, apparently pruning some trees off to the side in the front yard. Chloe is seated on a big tree stump near him, and she has something in her arms.

“Oh look! She had her baby.” I’m grinning as Mack slows down and turns up the driveway.

Mack angles across the grass toward the couple, and they see us almost immediately.

Chloe jumps to her feet, clearly excited, and Jimmy puts down his machete and wipes his face and beard with his shirt sleeves.

They’re both smiling as Mack puts our vehicle in park right near them. I jump off and hurry over so I can peer at the baby in Chloe’s arms.

“He’s Samuel. We call him Sammy,” Chloe says, beaming between me and Mack. “He’s twelve days old.”

“He’s amazing.” I want to snatch Sammy so I can cuddle him, but I restrain the impulse. She might not be ready to pass her baby off to just anyone. So I’m almost giddy when Chloe hands him over to me without hesitation. I cradle him. “Look at those chubby cheeks!”

“He’s a big boy and a good eater. Everything went really well with labor and delivery.” Her arms now free, Chloe launches herself at Mack in a hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Mack hugs her back, smiling but still slightly withdrawn. “I can never thank you enough for letting me use your grandpa’s cabin.”

“I’m so glad it was there when you needed it.” Chloe glances up at Jimmy, who has been listening to the conversation with interest. He’s a good-looking, competent man with brown hair, brown eyes, and brown beard, and he very clearly believes that Chloe and his new son are the best things to ever exist in the history of the world. “Jimmy and I are happy for you to use it for however long you need it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

I can’t help but focus down at the baby in my arms. He’s a happy little fellow, gazing up at me with wide eyes and babbling wordlessly. I jiggle him and do some baby talk, delighted when he seems to smile.

After a few minutes, I glance up to discover that everyone is watching me. “Sorry,” I say. “I got distracted. You can have him back.”

“Oh no! He obviously loves you, and I could use a break.”

Jimmy adds, “Y’all must be tired. Come on to the house and see my folks. They’ll get you settled.”

We agree and follow them up toward the farmhouse. When I’m finally brave enough to glance over at Mack, I catch him watching me strangely.

I’m usually pretty good at reading Mack’s feelings, but I have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking right now.

Ben Carlson, Jimmy’s father, is working out back, but his mother, Greta, greets us with her typical friendly efficiency, explaining that we’re the first to arrive today and so we get our choice of their guest bedrooms.

“You two can have the nice one,” she says, striding down the hall of her house without waiting to see if we’re following. I have to hand off Sammy to Chloe quickly so I can catch up. “Unless you’d prefer the bunk rooms for some reason.”

“Oh.” I peer into the pleasant, old-fashioned room with its four-poster bed, big window, and red-and-white quilt. “This is lovely. But we don’t need the best one. I’m not even sure if Mack is going to?—”

“I’m staying the night,” he mutters gruffly, clearly speaking to me and not Greta. “I wanna hear the plan.”

He meets my eyes, and I understand what he’s implicitly communicating. There’s something protective, almost possessive, in his expression and the set of his shoulders. He’s not intending to participate, but he wants to know the details of the plan so he can ensure that I’m not put into unnecessary danger.

It touches me and makes me anxious at the same time.

“Okay,” I say, smiling at Greta. “Then I guess we’ll take this room if you don’t think anyone else should have it more than us.”

“No reason you shouldn’t have it.” She focuses on Mack. “Haven’t forgotten what you did for my Jimmy. I’m not going to forget it.”

Mack nods stiffly, and I reach over and rub his back. “Congratulations on your grandbaby,” I say to Greta, trying to break the tension so Mack doesn’t clam up. “He’s such a handsome boy.”

“He is.” Greta evidently needs no encouragement to chat about her grandson. She gives us a full account of the infant’s first two weeks, gushing about how well Chloe did with her pregnancy and labor and how uniquely brilliant and spirited Sammy is.

By the time she’s stopped talking, we’ve settled our stuff in the room and headed to the kitchen to find the others.

Before we get there, I pull Mack to a stop and raise my hands to cup his face. “You doing okay?” I whisper.

His face softens. Despite my worries, he hasn’t fully withdrawn back into his internal cave. He smiles down at me. “I’m okay, Anna. You don’t have to fuss over me.”

“I’m not meaning to fuss. But I know this might be hard for you. It’s really okay if you want to take off right now and head back to the cabin.”

His mouth tilts downward slightly. “Did you want me to go?”

“N-no.”

“Do you?”

“No, I really don’t. I’m just—” I cut off my own words, trying to decide how to phrase my next thought. “I’m just worried. About how you’ll feel when everyone else gets here.”

“How do you think I’ll feel?” He clearly doesn’t understand what I’m trying to express, and who can blame him?

“They all love you and will be excited to see you. They’ll assume… I mean, they’ll expect you to help out with this whole thing the way you used to. They won’t mean to, but they’ll end up putting pressure on you and maybe making you feel guilty for your decision.” I lick my lips nervously, dropping my eyes. “I don’t want you to feel guilty. I don’t want you to feel pressure. I want you to be… be free. ”

I hear his exhale, but I’m too jittery to check his expression. He cups my face with one big hand. “Anna.”

I obey the admonition in the one word and look back up at him.

“Thank you. For taking care of me. But I don’t need to be shielded. I understand the consequences of my own decisions, and there’s no guilt or pressure others can place on me that I’m not already putting on myself.”

“But I don’t want you to feel that way!”

“I’m not sure I’m capable of not feeling this way. Not unless I’m certain that what I’m doing is right. And I’m not sure of that right now.” He gives his head a shake and glances to the side. “But I don’t know what else to do.”

“You need to do what feels right to you no matter what anyone else says or thinks. The people who love you won’t think any less of you. I promise they won’t.”

He looks back at me, soft now and almost wistful. “You don’t think less of me?”

“Of course I don’t! You’ve held all of us up, you’ve carried so many of us for so long that you deserve to be freed of all that weight now. You don’t have to carry it anymore, Mack. You don’t .”

He doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t look away. He’s searching my face with a silent urgency, and I really don’t know what he’s looking for.

I also don’t know if he finds it or not. He finally says, “I’m gonna stay the night. I need to know what the plan is. I’m not gonna let you get killed. ”

“I won’t get killed. They never give me the risky positions. I’m always basically backup.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No. There’s not.” I sigh. “It used to bother me, but it really doesn’t anymore. I don’t need to be some sort of hero. I just want to help—in any way I can. I want to be someone others can depend on when they need it and not just a burden or a distraction.”

“You were never a burden or a distraction. I could always depend on you.”

I give him a bittersweet smile and pull his handsome, familiar head down so I can kiss him lightly. “No, you couldn’t. You always carried me too.”

I don’t wait for Mack to answer before joining the others in the kitchen because he’ll probably just give me empty reassurances again. He’ll want me to feel better, but he doesn’t understand what I do.

Things are different now. And that makes me a little sad and nostalgic for what I’ve lost with him. But it also makes me feel better.

That I don’t always need to be carried anymore.

The afternoon passes quickly but pleasantly with a lot of activity. We help with chores around the farm for a couple of hours. A number of other volunteers start trickling in to the farm from nearby areas, and Maria and her crew arrive by midafternoon.

They camp in a pasture of the Carlsons’ farm, and Mack and I hang out with them over dinner. They explain that Cal and Rachel will be arriving tomorrow morning with the folks they were able to recruit to join the effort.

I enjoy reconnecting with so many of my friends, and even Mack appears fairly relaxed. He knew many of these women well. He worked and fought with them countless times. No one questions his choices or brings up difficult topics, so the time passes easily as we sit around a large campfire until the sun goes down.

Eventually it’s time for bed, so Mack and I walk back to the farmhouse. We don’t say much, but he reaches over to squeeze my hand at one point. I’m not sure why, but I don’t let his go, so we’re holding hands for the rest of the walk back.

By the time we reach our pretty guestroom, I’m feeling closer to him than I’ve ever felt to anyone in my entire life. And I’m also holding back tears because it feels so much like I’m about to lose him.

He’ll leave in the morning, and I’ll risk my life in this attack. There’s a chance we’ll never see each other again, and even if we do, it won’t be like it’s been in these past two months.

Tonight might be our last.

Maybe Mack is experiencing something similar. He’s subdued when he finally releases my hand as we stand in our bedroom. They don’t have showers here. They have to pump water manually to fill tubs, and most of the time they use a basin and pitcher of water in rooms to wash up the way they do at New Haven.

We get as clean as we can and get ready for bed. I change into a simple knit nightgown while Mack takes off all his clothes. We switch off the lantern on the bedside table and climb into bed.

Mack still hasn’t said anything as he pulls me closer and rolls on top. He stares down at me in the dark for a minute before he finally lowers his head so he can kiss me.

I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around him and softening my lips. He slides his tongue into my mouth.

As our kiss deepens, I move my hands over his body, stroking his smooth scalp, caressing my way down his back, running my fingers over his large frame, his developed muscles, his tight skin. Every part of him is big and strong and solid and warm. Every part of him is perfect for me, exactly what I want to feel under my hands.

We kiss for a really long time. His body slowly tenses up, and eventually his erection is poking into me. But he doesn’t rush to the main event. He seems to need this—this intimate, needy kiss—as much as anything else.

I need it too.

I’m hotly aroused and filled with so much more in my heart when he finally breaks his mouth away, gasping and ducking his head to suck on the pulse in my throat .

“Mack!” His name on my lips is a whispered gasp.

He makes a guttural sound as he pushes up my nightgown so he can get his mouth on my breasts. He teases and sucks until I’m squirming. I hold on to his head until I can’t take any more. “Mack!” I’m still keeping my voice soft so no one can hear us through the walls. We aren’t in our little cabin right now where it doesn’t matter how loud we get.

He keeps moving down my body, his mouth greedy and intentional. When he nuzzles between my legs and pries my thighs apart, I gasp and then gasp again when I feel his tongue.

He brings me to a quick climax with his mouth, but then I pull him up so I can kiss him again. Now he’s making quiet, hungry sounds into the kiss. His hips are rocking against my groin.

He’s urgent. Needy. I love how shamelessly aroused he is, like he finally, finally knows he doesn’t have to be so guarded and restrained with me.

I’m pretty far gone too. I can’t hold still. I wriggle and clutch at him, digging my fingernails into the firm flesh of his shoulders and his ass. My entire body pulses with bone-deep need, and Mack is the only thing that can possibly slake it.

“Mack,” I choke out, at last turning my head away from the kiss so I can suck more air into my lungs.

With a thick, wordless sound, he raises his upper body to stare down at me. Then he adjusts more of his weight onto his knees.

Since I can now reach between our bodies, I slide one hand down to wrap around his hard cock.

He huffs when I squeeze him, jerking his head to the side, but he doesn’t let me play with him too long tonight. He draws my hand back up and places it on his shoulder. Then he takes his cock in his own hand and moves it into position at my entrance.

I bend up my knees and part my legs even more. I moan quietly as he edges himself inside me, my pussy stretching and softening around him.

He kisses me again once he’s all the way inside. Then he begins to thrust with a fast, hungry rhythm. It’s not gentle or tender or leisurely or sweet, despite the fact that we’re in regular missionary position. It’s demanding and urgent and almost desperate, and it perfectly matches my mood. I claw at his back and butt and pump my hips up to eagerly meet his thrusts. The bed jiggles softly, and we’re both breathing heavily, but there’s not much chance it will be heard outside this room.

But Mack is giving everything to me right now—everything he is, everything he has, holding nothing back—and it’s overwhelming. It fills my heart and my body both. Fills me so deeply that I’m almost scared I can’t take it, can’t hold it, can’t handle it all.

I’ll never let Mack down when he needs me, and I don’t fall apart now even as I’m overwhelmed. There are still tears behind my eyes and in my throat, and something akin to fear flutters in my chest and my pulse points. But none of that compares to the powerful emotion flooding through me, flooding everything.

It’s love.

I know it’s love.

“Mack,” I gasp again, so frantic in my need that I’m trying to ride him from below.

He speeds up even more, huffing and sweating and shuddering with an overload of feeling. He’s so far gone he’s not going to be able to hold out much longer, but he won’t want to come before I do.

I manage to squeeze my hand between our bodies so I can reach my clit. I rub it hard and fast and make a strangled exclamation as my pleasure surges.

Orgasm hits before I expect it, and I shake and gasp through the spasms of release, my pussy clamping down hard around Mack’s cock.

He bites back an anguished groan.

“Mack! Don’t pull out, Mack!”

I don’t know why or how I’ve come to this decision, but I mean it. Maybe it was holding Sammy today. Maybe it’s the fear that this will be the very last time I’ll be with Mack this way.

Whatever the reason, I want all of him. All of him. I want him to come inside me.

No matter what that might mean .

He makes a broken sound, briefly pausing his carnal motion. “You sure?”

“Yes. Yes please, Mack! Don’t pull out.”

He lets out a low, soft groan that’s stretched out so long it gets choppy as his hips start moving again. He fucks me so hard my entire body jiggles, and he’s reached climax in less than a minute. His body works through the release clumsily. His hips roll as his cock spasms inside me. Then he’s coming in several hard spurts, filling me with his semen.

It’s the first time he’s ever done that in all the years since we first got together.

His hips keep jerking for a long time with each lingering aftershock. Then he collapses on top of me, all his weight collapsing. He buries his face in the crook of my shoulder.

I wrap my arms around him. Hold him tight.

After a minute, when his body finally starts to soften, I whisper, “I love you, Mack. You know that, right?”

He makes a weird, rough sound. Almost like a sob. He doesn’t lift his head, but he presses a few kisses against my skin.

It’s a long time before he can form any words. And when he does, they’re mumbled against my neck. “I love you too.”