13. Griffin

13

She’s been gone for too long. I should have handcuffed her again. During that short time, I at least knew she was safe when doing something mundane, such as going to the bathroom. I have a hunch that wasn’t the entire truth in order to keep William from following her. Next time I’ll be there, and I’ll follow her. I’ll stand guard with my back to the tree she hides behind until she finishes. She shouldn’t have gone out there alone, especially with it getting dark like this. Sure, Max is out there, but somehow that only worries me more.

I look up at the sound of crunching leaves and breathe out a sigh of relief when I see her walking back into camp until I notice her appearance. Her hair is a disheveled mess, even more wild than it normally is, and she wraps her arms around her middle, her eyes in a daze. She shivers. It’s a small one, but that’s all I need in order to notice.

Stripping off my hoodie, I toss it to her and she wastes no time putting it on. “Good timing. I have a treat for you I swiped from the hideout.” I pull out the bag of marshmallows I’d lifted when we were looking for her medicine. It was sitting right there on the table that she nearly died on. They had no use for roasting marshmallows tonight, but we would.

A small laugh comes out of her, and it’s beautiful, though slightly pained. “I haven’t had a toasted marshmallow in a really long time. Years, probably.”

I pick up the stick I’d cleaned and sharpened and put two marshmallows on it before handing it to her. She holds it out over the fire. Not the safe distance that most people do to get that perfect golden color. No. She thrusts it straight into the heart of the flames, so it burns fast and hard. When it’s perfectly charred, she plops the first toasted marshmallow into her mouth at the same moment that Max emerges from the woods, dripping wet.

“Where you been?” William asks.

“Killed some rotters and then washed up. The area should be safer tonight.” Max doesn’t look at William, or at me. His eyes are only for Emily as he walks straight up to her, leans down, and wraps his lips around her fingers, licking it clean of the sticky marshmallow that was left behind. He licks his lips when he pulls away, a smirk on his face and his eyes blazing. “Night, pet. I’m headed inside.”

Emily looks like she’s torn between getting up or staying put. That’s odd. I’m not even finished feeding her marshmallows.

Max solves the problem for her. “You should join either Griffin or Willie.”

“It’s William,” William corrects him half-heartedly, and we both watch him disappear into his tent.

“You’re staying with me,” I say, before anyone else can say anything about it. I don’t know what’s going on between her and Max right now, but I need to keep her close to me. I brush my leg against hers and add a marshmallow onto a stick for myself before handing the bag to William.

“You can’t dictate everything I do,” Emily says in that argumentative voice of hers. She even throws in a huff. It’s adorable how she thinks she can convince me otherwise.

I fight back a smile. Bringing out the fighter in her is quickly becoming my favorite pastime. “I’m not. I’m merely keeping you alive.”

“I’ve been doing that just fine on my own.”

Thrusting the marshmallow into the fire, I decide to forego my normal perfect golden toasted color and try out Emily’s madness of a charcoal exterior. “Good. But in case you missed it, princess, you’re not on your own anymore.”

Not a single cricket chirps. The nighttime is as dead as the rest of the world. Kind of a bleak outlook, but it’s not wrong.

The inside of my tent seems brighter, though it’s not from the faint glow of the fire illuminating it from the outside. Emily lays next to me on top of the unzipped sleeping bag I laid out along with the blankets. There’s a slight chill in the air, but she seems warm enough wearing my only hoodie. Even William dug out an old pair of sweats for her to sleep in instead of her shorts, since we’d burned the dregs’ clothes that were covered in blood. They’re of course too big on her and still fall down her hips even after rolling them a few times, but they’ll do for the night. My arm is back behind me, in use as a pillow for my head since I gave Emily my only pillow to use for herself.

She lies on her back, looking up at the tent ceiling. She doesn’t know that I’m watching her; or if she does, then she doesn’t let on. This is the first time she’s been in my tent since the handcuff incident. Looking back, that was a stupid move. But it kept her here, and now she willingly stays with us. Sort of. Still, I can’t help but wander what’s going through her head. I want to know. I need to know.

“You’ve been quiet since returning from the bathroom, which took you a while. Did a raccoon bite your ass or something?”

She lets out a surprised laugh. It’s small, but it makes me smile. “What if one did? Got any vaccines?”

“We can demolish every dreg hideout in our path until we find one.”

Her small smile disappears, and I don’t understand why. Then she changes the subject. “Max took some things pretty hard today.”

“He’s still dealing.”

“You don’t help him?”

“Leaving him on his own is helping him. William and I tried in the beginning, but nothing we did ever helped. There are some things in life that you can only do on your own.”

She’s silent for a moment, thinking it over. That silent moment seems to stretch on forever. “Is that what you do when you see someone struggling? You leave them to deal with it on their own?”

“I didn’t with you.”

“Already told you. I wasn’t giving myself up for dead.”

“I know that now. Didn’t know that then. Besides, your little stunt put us at risk.”

“Didn’t think there was anyone stupid enough to run around in the city,” she deadpans. “What were you doing there, anyway?”

“Looking for supplies. Food. Weapons. We always seem to run out of something. We also didn’t think there’d be anyone stupid enough to run around in the city, much less alone.”

“Seems we surprised us both.” She chews on her lip, drawing my attention to the movement.

Something has her nervous. Before I can ask what’s bothering her, she asks another question. She’s full of questions tonight. I like that.

“How close are the three of you?”

That’s not the question I expected. She’s awfully curious about us all of a sudden. “We were friends for years, closer than brothers. Even more annoying, too.” She smiles at that. Good. “We went through everything together, but when the dead rose two hundred and…awhile ago?—”

“Two hundred and sixty-eight days ago.”

“What?”

“Two hundred and sixty-eight days ago. You stumbled. I helped.”

I stare at her until she looks uncomfortable, and then I keep staring. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Ever since the day I lost my family. That’s not a day I can forget.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “In two hundred and sixty-eight days, I’ve never run into anyone else who counts them like I do.”

“Maybe you’ve been so busy pushing everyone away that you haven’t given yourself a chance to find out.”

“I don’t push people away, they push me away.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. So finish your story that I interrupted. You went through everything together, but when the dead rose two hundred and a while ago…”

One corner of my mouth curves up and I can’t help the smile that she brings me. “But when the dead rose two hundred and sixty-eight days ago, we weren’t. We each lost everything and everyone before finally finding each other again, and have been inseparable since.”

“You each lost everything…and everyone?”

I nod. “That’s right, princess. You probably have a similar story. Not just losing your family, but whatever you went through after.” Her eyes get a faraway look in them for a moment before focusing back on me. I wonder where she went just then. “We’ve all been through horrible things. Horrific, even. We understand each other, and we’ll never leave each other. Max’s wound is harsher than ours. He’s been hurt too deep in a way that he can’t forget or forgive. It’s not my place to say, but you might have noticed that he isn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings.”

“What about your feelings? What are you hiding behind your shouting and stubbornness?”

She makes me want to smile at that, but I don’t. I never expected to be lying next to a girl in my tent and talking about feelings. It’s odd, but I don’t dislike it.

“The only way I survived was by taking charge. I told you about how my whole family became infected and wound up as rotters, so it was up to me to take care of them. I had to shut off my feelings.” I pause and wait for her look of pity, but it doesn’t come. There is no judgement in her eyes, only understanding and waiting for the rest of my story.

With my free hand, I reach over and push back strands of hair that have fallen in her face. Her breath hitches.

“You know, the last time I told that story was to another group of survivors we’d crossed paths with. All the women gave me the utmost look of pity. It pissed me off, so we left, but I can’t imagine the pity they would’ve shown if they’d known Max’s and William’s stories, too. Mine is the most tame of ours.”

“I don’t pity you,” she says, her voice full of honesty.

“Thank you for that.”

“I envy you.”

“Why?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

“You could harden yourself to get things done. You didn’t let in any outsiders who you didn’t already know. You didn’t make yourself vulnerable to getting hurt…and hurting everyone else along the way.”

“The last guy you let in?” When she nods and doesn’t offer any other pieces to her puzzle, I pull my hand back, resting it on the blankets between us, and continue. “I found William first. I won’t talk about the state that he was in, but it was bad enough to where I had to take care of him as well.”

I stop talking. I don’t know why I’m telling her all of this. She understands why I’ve hardened, but what I don’t understand is why I’m opening up now. I’ve only known her a few days, and she’s leaving us soon. Maybe it’s not too late to send her over to William’s tent. This woman is dangerous.

“You’ve had to become the protector of the group. I see why you kidnapped me when you did. You were protecting your friends, and then a lone stranger who you thought needed it.”

I turn my body so I’m lying on my side, my arm still beneath my head. “You forgive me for that?”

She smiles. “Not a chance.”

“Stubborn princess.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a princess. So, you found Max last?”

I pick at a random spot on the blanket, remembering that day. “Yes, I did. Max has abandonment issues beyond what you can imagine, and if he gets attached, then it’s even more dangerous when that person leaves.”

Something flashes in her eyes when I say that, and I realize that something is going on between them after all. I’m okay with that, though a little jealous. I’m also not okay with that, because when she leaves, then I’ll be the one to pick up his pieces again. At least this time shouldn’t be as bad, but it’ll still be dangerous.

I want to ask her more questions and give her more warnings, but then she reaches over and touches my scar, making me forget about everything swimming in my head. About how she’s slowly making my friends fall for her without intending to, and getting too close to someone who won’t stay can be more dangerous than all the dregs and rotters in the country.

Even knowing that, I still can’t seem to pull away. She’s the only person who’s ever touched my face since the day this happened. I thought I’ve been doing a good job at making myself repulsive to her. I guess I was wrong. She’s not like anyone else after all.

Her fingers trace the fading raised scar tissue down the length of my cheek, and I still beneath her touch. “Tell me about this?”

“Found myself in an encounter with a rotter that was a little too close for comfort. I barely made it out, and when I did, I ran right into a dreg. He cut my face, so I cut his throat.” I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for the look of disgust that I’d gotten from other survivors. I can still hear their repulsion in my mind.

You killed a living person?

Why didn’t you just run away instead?

You’re infected, aren’t you?

Stay away from my family, you mongrel.

“What is it?” Her brows furrow. I don’t understand. Is she talking about my scar?

“It’s a scar, princess.” My words come out clipped.

“No, I mean, what are you thinking about? If you don’t want me touching it, then I’ll stop.”

She pulls her hand away and I stop her, wrapping my fingers around hers and placing it back on my cheek to trace the same path I’d traced countless nights before. “I was waiting to see the same look of disgust on your face that I’ve seen many times before from other survivors. They stare. They’re afraid to get too close. Then they accuse me of being infected when I’m not, even when I explain it was a dreg who did it, not a rotter.”

“Really?”

“Turns out the enemy of your enemy isn’t always your friend.”

“Is that why you don’t want to be around other people?”

“You think I don’t want to be around other people?” She nods and I sigh. “I want to be part of a survivor group more than you can understand. I want that feeling of safety, of belonging, for my friends even more than for myself. To not fend for our lives every single second of every day and night, and to know that we’re not alone in this godforsaken world. But the couple of colonies we’ve found didn’t want us. One thought I was too broken to survive with, and the other thought I would bring their deaths because I survived a knife to the face and scared their children. I wish more than anything that I wasn’t the reason those two aren’t part of a safer group.”

She caresses my cheek. “I don’t think there’s anywhere safer they could be than with you. Nobody cares about their lives or well-being more than you do, and I believe they would choose you over a group of strangers any day. Besides, not every colony is as great as it’s cracked up to be. Some can make you feel more lonely than if you were on your own.”

She sounds convinced. I know she’s only trying to be nice, and I appreciate the sentiment, even if she’s wrong. Still, it makes me wonder what she went through to believe something like that. How lonely she must have felt herself.

“Does it hurt?”

I breathe out a laugh. “Only when someone brings it up and reminds me about how hideous it is.”

“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as you, I want to say, but I don’t. Instead, I watch her. I study every inch of her face as though it’s the last thing I’ll ever see, and I realize I am insanely jealous of whatever is growing between her and Max. At first, I thought Max was only being himself. I never expected her to get to him, but she has, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s not the only one.

As I lie here, watching her touch my face and telling me how beautiful my worst traits are, I can’t help but wonder if something could grow between us as well, if given the chance.

Too bad we’ll never get a chance to find out.

I awake to whimpering sounds. My eyes pop open and I have my knife in my hand before I realize they’re coming from inside the tent, and I remember I’m not alone. I put down the knife and move closer.

Buddy is lying over Emily’s feet and gives a little whine when I nudge him on accident. He’s trying to calm her, too. Is there something seriously wrong with her? Is she hurt?

Scenarios fly through my head, each one worse than the last. I face the woman in question, but through the faint glow of the fire from outside, all I can make out is her back. I think she might even be curled into a ball. Maybe she’s cold. I’ll give her my half of the blanket, too, if she needs it.

“Emily,” I whisper, but she only whimpers in response.

Is she too hurt to tell me she’s hurt?

“Emily.”

More whimpers. My concern skyrockets.

Reaching out, I touch her back. It’s damp. She’s sweating through the hoodie. I lay my palm flat against the middle of her back and the whimpers lessen. Hmm.

I scoot closer to her and wrap my arms around her body. The whimpers stop, but her hand clenches into a fist so tight that I’m surprised her nails haven’t punctured the soft skin of her palm yet. Concern turns to anger when I wonder what has her so worked up. This has to be some kind of nightmare, but still. A nightmare isn’t something I can protect her from.

Or maybe I can.

I hold on to her as tight as I can without hurting her, and bring my mouth close to her ear. “I’ve got you, Emily. You’re safe.” I whisper the words in her ear on repeat until her body loosens and her breath evens out. “Safe.”

After a few more minutes, she’s sleeping again. I don’t want to move in case the nightmare comes back, so I stay like this, with my body wrapped around hers and her sleeping in my arms. It’s a strange feeling, someone feeling safe enough to sleep wrapped up in my arms like this.

Pushing that thought aside, I focus on her. I want to know what happened. Need to know. Especially since some things I thought I heard her whimper were concerning. I don’t know who Richard is, but if he’s the one who hurt her, then I want to hurt him. If he’s someone she wants to see again, then I still want to hurt him.

But for now, I’m content to hold her, to feel her soft body against my hard one. And her curves, oh my, her curves, they fit perfectly against me. Oh no, think about puppies, war, famine. Okay, that’s better.

I brush hair out of her face again—it’s always falling in her face—and place a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. She lets out a hum of pleasure.

“That’s right, princess. I’ve got you.” Holding her tight, I bury my face in her hair and fall asleep, surrounded by her scent. I wonder where she found strawberry shampoo.