Aftershock

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN



GARRETT REMOVED HIS HAND from her thigh: a bad sign.

His throat worked with agitation as he considered his answer. “It’s not that simple,” he said finally.

She recoiled in shock. “Are you going to break up?”

“No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not free,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I can’t have a relationship with you. When...if...we get out of here, it’s over.”

Her arms dropped to her sides and her shoulders slumped. Well, that was bald honesty. She’d asked for it.

“I don’t blame you for hating me,” he said. “I hate myself. But I have to tell you that I’ve never felt this way before. I’m crazy about you, Lauren. I love the way you smell, the sound of your voice, the taste of your mouth and how sexy you look on your knees. I’m amazed by your strength and kindness and dedication. Despite this f*cked-up situation, I’ve loved every moment I’ve spent with you.”

Tears flooded her eyes, because she believed him.

“I have nothing to offer you and I don’t expect anything in return,” he continued. “Even if you say no, I’ll remember this night for the rest of my life.”

Lauren didn’t know why she let him kiss her again. Maybe because his words soothed her bruised ego. Or maybe she was just too far gone to stop. Her body hummed with desire, and he was the only man who could satisfy her. When he buried a hand in her hair and plundered her mouth with his tongue, she surrendered completely.

“Yes?” he asked, pausing to make sure.

“Yes,” she said against his lips. Desperate for him to continue, before she changed her mind, she grasped his wrist and moved his hand to her breast. “Touch me,” she said, licking his mouth.

Discussion time was over.

With a strangled sound of approval, he squeezed her soft flesh and curled his tongue around hers. The kiss was so erotically charged, it felt like sex. He seemed enthralled by her taste, in love with her mouth. Her nipple tightened in his palm, and he swept his thumb back and forth over the beaded tip.

A pulse throbbed between her legs, heavy and hot.

She reached for the zipper of her sweatshirt, wanting no barriers between his hand and her flesh. The soft rasp of metal caught his attention. He lifted his head, watching with hungry fascination as she revealed a strip of bare skin along the center of her body. She paused at her belly button, unsure how far to go. He covered his fingertips with hers and pulled the zipper all the way down.

The sweatshirt fell open, exposing...everything.

His jaw went slack.

She let him look, fighting the urge to cover herself.

“Unh,” he said, staring at her breasts, her stomach, between her legs. He must have liked what he saw, because he crushed his mouth over hers, using a lot less finesse than before. Thrilled by his urgency, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her thigh over his, straining to get closer. They both gasped when her bare breasts met the hard wall of his chest. He trailed his hand down her back until he reached her squirming bottom. With a low groan, he cupped her buttocks, kissing her harder.

She wanted to touch him, too. Sinking her teeth into his lower lip, she skimmed her palms along his taut abdomen. The coarse hair on his belly made her fingertips tingle. His coveralls were still unfastened, his erection tenting the fabric. She wrapped her hand around him, testing his thickness.

Oh, yes.

He let out a hissing breath as she stroked him up and down. Her inner muscles clenched in response, eager to try him on for size.

“Stop,” he said with a grimace, stilling her motions.

“Do you have a condom?”

He pulled her hand away from his lap and pushed her back against the seat, giving her a rough kiss. “Yes,” he said, panting. He removed a square package from his pocket.

Instead of suiting up for the main event, he tossed the condom aside and filled his hand with her breast, trapping her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her back, gasping as he dipped his head to suck the pebbled tip. When both of her nipples were red and puckered, he changed focus, smoothing his palm along the inside of her thigh. She spread her legs on instinct, giving him greater access. Her sex tingled with sensation.

When his fingertips made contact with her, he went still. She was plump and swollen, soaking wet. His breathing grew ragged as he traced her slippery cleft.

Splaying her hands on the seat, she parted her thighs wider. His nostrils flared as if he could smell her arousal. He circled her opening with his forefinger and slid it inside. She groaned, welcoming the intrusion.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. God, yes.

Moistening his lips, as if hungry for a taste, he slid his blunt finger in and out of her. He had to know she was ready, but he repeated the motion again and again. Her nipples were tight, her sex aching. When he withdrew his finger, it was slick.

He moved higher, circling her *oris. “And this?”

Beyond words, she groaned and let her head fall back against the seat. He watched her face while he stroked her, his eyes hooded. It didn’t take long. The orgasm rushed through her, fluttering inside her belly, making her cry out in pleasure.

His touch gentled and she slumped against his shoulder, panting. When she glanced up at him, he kissed her relaxed mouth. He didn’t seem in any hurry to put on the condom, so she picked up the package and tore it open with her teeth. She rolled the latex over him, with some difficulty. It was a snug fit.

The touch of his callused fingertips was delicious, but she needed more. She longed to be filled by him. She wanted to watch him come.

He pushed the coveralls down to his ankles and she climbed aboard, straddling his lap. When she enveloped him, inch by inch, he made a strangled sound and grasped her hips, impaling her completely.

If she wasn’t so wet, he’d have been hard to handle. As it was, he stretched her to the limits, creating a delicious sense of fullness. Pausing to let her body adjust, she studied his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his forehead dotted with perspiration.

“Feel good?” she asked.

“F*ck,” he ground out, his teeth clenched. “Yes.”

She wriggled upward and slid back down slowly, teasingly, making him slick with her moisture. “Like this?”

He groaned in agony. “I can’t last.”

“It’s okay,” she said, brushing her lips over his. Instead of torturing him further, she braced her palms on his shoulders and moved her hips in sinuous motions. He felt huge and hot inside her. Her breasts jostled against his hard-muscled chest.

Steam rose up between them, fogging up the windows in the backseat.

He was right about not lasting, but she found it endearing, and desperately sexy. When he stiffened and shuddered, his body jerking against hers, she cradled his head to her breasts, muffling his hoarse shout.

After a long moment, he moved her off his lap and went to dispose of the condom. She zipped up her sweatshirt and snuggled into the blanket. When he returned, he wrapped his good arm around her, pressing his lips to her head. She rested her head against his chest, drowsy with satisfaction.

Although she hadn’t forgotten what he’d said earlier, she didn’t dwell on it. They’d been through too much together. She couldn’t fight her emotions anymore. Right now, she needed to feel close to someone.

She could pretend he was hers, for just one night.

“‘Tell me of your homeworld, Usul.’”

He laughed at the Dune quote. “Nebraska, you mean?”

She nodded against his chest.

“There’s not much to tell. It’s flat, and boring, and full of cows. I couldn’t wait to get out.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“Jump hay bales.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Shooting guns was also popular.”

“Did you have a girlfriend?”

“Sure. Cindy Myers.”

“Was she cute?”

“God, yeah. Her dad owned the soybean mill, so she was town royalty. All the boys liked her. I never got past first base, though.”

Lauren smiled at the description. “What did your dad do?”

“He worked at the mill. Still does.”

“Was he proud when you joined the military?”

“No. He was against it. Said that the government took advantage of poor boys while rich men made money off war.”

“Did you believe him?”

“Of course not. I was eighteen.”

“And now?”

He sighed, stroking her back. “I don’t know. I can’t say I’m happy about my experiences in Iraq. There were times I felt good about what we were doing. Helping people. Toward the end, I was too numb to feel anything.”

“What did your mother think?”

“She was worried I wouldn’t come back.”

And he hadn’t been back. Not for a long time, he’d said.

“What does your mother think about you being a paramedic?” he asked.

“She thinks blood is gross, and that I need a rich husband, a big house and a baby.”

He smiled crookedly. “Just one? My mother was hoping for a half dozen.”

“Are you an only child, too?”

“Yes. The burden of procreation falls on me.”

“Don’t you want children?”

“Maybe someday,” he said. “You?”

“Yes. Someday.”

She fell silent, trying not to imagine a shared future between them. Reality was too painful to contemplate. They didn’t talk about his relationship status, or her broken engagement. Michael’s betrayal had faded into insignificance.

The outside world seemed so far away.

There was only this time, this place. Nothing mattered now but Garrett’s strong arm around her, his heartbeat beneath her cheek. Escape was a double-edged sword, too terrible to contemplate, too wonderful to hope for.

* * *

CRUZ WAS MORE ALERT this evening.

He cried more, squirmed more, ate more and dirtied more diapers. If he kept this up, Penny would run out of sanitary pads by tomorrow. She was glad they finally had enough water for washing. Owen warmed up enough for her to bathe the baby. Setting him on a blanket, she soaped his little body and wiped him with a wet cloth.

Then she tucked a maxi pad around him and tied on a cloth “diaper.” She’d torn some of the baby blankets into squares, which added another layer of protection. Together, the pads and fabric squares kept him dry.

That done, she settled down to feed him again. The suction felt stronger now, and she could see whitish fluid at the corner of his mouth.

Owen averted his gaze while she nursed the baby. Maybe he was grossed out. She’d thought it would be nauseating or embarrassing to have boobs full of milk. But it wasn’t. Breast-feeding felt...peaceful.

When Cruz fell asleep, satisfied, she eased away from him, buttoning up her dress.

“How are you doing, little mama?”

She glanced at Owen, surprised by the question. Her focus had shifted from taking care of herself to taking care of the baby. It was almost as if nothing else existed, not even the Penny she’d once been. “Better,” she said, rising from the bed.

Instead of throwing out Cruz’s bathwater, she headed to the bathroom to wash with it. She slipped out of her dress, scrubbing her face and body. Feeling much cleaner, she put on fresh panties with the same old dress. There was nothing else to wear. She wished her stomach didn’t pooch out like she was still pregnant. Ugh.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Owen was sitting at the table with some first-aid supplies. He’d removed his sweatshirt. The back of his wife-beater was smeared with tar and dotted with blood.

She frowned at the sight. Although she knew he’d been hurt, she hadn’t asked him what happened. She suspected that he’d fought with Mickey this morning. His lip was swollen and his pants leg was torn.

“Let me see,” she said, coming closer to him. When he stripped off his stained undershirt, exposing the cuts on his back, she stifled a gasp of dismay. “Why didn’t Lauren take care of this for you?”

“She had more important things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like bandage Garrett’s gunshot wound, for one.”

She ripped open an alcohol swab. “You could have asked her before she went to bed.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“She walked away with Garrett.”

“To do what?”

“Never mind.”

Penny didn’t know what he was talking about, but his smirk annoyed her. When she started cleaning his cuts, he sucked in a sharp breath. Most of the wounds were minor scratches, and none were bleeding heavily. As she wiped the last one, her hand stilled. “You mean they went somewhere private?”

“Yes.”

“You think they’re hooking up?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, arching a brow. “You say that like there’s something wrong with it.”

Penny realized she sounded prudish, which was ridiculous. Last night, she’d given birth to a child out of wedlock. She had no room to judge others. “I’m just surprised. I guess I haven’t been paying attention.”

“You’ve been busy.”

She smeared a bit of antibiotic ointment on the cuts and applied bandage strips. He had only one tattoo on his back, a four-leaf clover with the letters AB in the middle. It wasn’t as ugly as the rest. “What does this mean?” she asked, touching his shoulder.

“Aryan Brotherhood.”

She dropped her hand. “Oh.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

He rose from the table and opened a drawer. Finding another clean undershirt, he donned it with hasty motions. His neck was ruddy.

Penny fidgeted with her skirt. “Do you want to go to bed now?”

“Sure.”

They lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Cruz was snuggled in one corner tonight, instead of between them. Penny was tired but she didn’t feel like turning her back on Owen. Not because she didn’t trust him. She just wasn’t ready to sleep.

“What’s Salton City really like?” she asked.

“It’s hot, and dry, and full of tweakers.”

“Tweakers?”

“You don’t know what a tweaker is?”

She moistened her lips, nervous. “Should I?”

“Where are you from?”

“L.A.”

“East L.A.?”

“No,” she said, offended. “Palos Verdes.”

“Did you go to public school?”

“I went to Sacred Heart. It’s a private Catholic school.”

“No wonder,” he said, shaking his head. “A tweaker is a meth user. You know what crystal meth is, right?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“My brother got hooked on it. That’s why he robbed the liquor store.”

“Are your parents on drugs also?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“Two sons, both in jail.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Is that normal in Salton City?”

“Probably more normal than in Palos Verdes.” He used the general mispronunciation, Palace Verdays, which emphasized its swanky reputation. “My mom was clean for a long time. She fell off the wagon when Shane and I got arrested.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“That must have been awful for her.”

A cord in his neck twitched. “Yes.”

“What about your dad?”

“What about him?”

“Did he fall off the wagon?”

“He was never on it.”

She studied his face for a moment, silent.

“What do your parents do?” he asked.

“My mom works for a charity, and my dad is...in politics.”

“What kind of politics?”

“‘Conservative Family Values,’” she quoted.

“As in, marriage and abstinence and stuff like that?”

“Yes.”

He winced in sympathy.

“Sometimes it felt like jail, growing up. I suppose that sounds silly to you.”

“No.”

“Will you get out soon?”

“In another year.”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know. I like the outdoor work program at the prison. I can do any kind of labor, or welding.” He looked at her. “What about you?”

“I wanted to go to school.”

“To study what?”

“I’m not sure yet. I thought I’d take some general-education courses and figure it out.”

“You should.”

She didn’t know how she’d manage without her aunt, without a place to live. If she spent her money on rent, there wouldn’t be any left for classes and child care. Had she made the wrong decision? Before her aunt Bernice stepped in, she’d considered adoption. Her parents said she would “ruin her life” with single motherhood. She couldn’t imagine giving up Cruz, but she wanted what was best for him.

Maybe she wasn’t it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. “Everything will be fine.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, only half comforted by the lie.

* * *

AFTER LAUREN FELL asleep, Garrett eased his arm out from underneath her.

He wanted to stay with her all night, but he had to get back to camp. The others were about a hundred feet away, and Cadence was inside the semi by herself. They wouldn’t be prepared if Jeb showed up.

Reluctant to leave, nonetheless, he watched Lauren sleep for another few minutes. Although he regretted deceiving her, he wasn’t sorry he’d touched her.

It wasn’t as if he’d gone out of his way to seduce her. If anything, she’d come on to him. He’d understood what he was getting himself into when she asked him to wash up. But how could he resist? Call him weak, but when a beautiful woman wanted to get naked with him, he had a hard time saying no.

When that woman was Lauren...he melted at her feet.

Her nude body was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. Tendrils of wet hair had clung to her shoulders, and tiny droplets glistened on her skin. Her breasts were full and round, her nipples tight and pink. She was so sweet, from the curve of her waist to the shadow of her belly button. And between her legs... Jesus. The instant he’d felt her against his fingertips, he’d lost it. Without the cold dousing, he might have gone off right then and there. The contrast between her chilled skin and her steamy sex had undone him.

His performance had left a lot to be desired, and he wasn’t satisfied in the least, but he couldn’t reverse the clock. He didn’t want to take it back. If he could do it all over again...damn. He’d love to do it all over again.

A twinge of conscience prevented him from trying. She was exhausted, and not necessarily clearheaded. Cheating was a deal breaker for them both. Lauren wouldn’t have slept with him under normal circumstances. She hadn’t fallen into his arms because he was irresistible; she’d desperately needed escape and release.

He’d caught her in a moment of vulnerability, and he knew better than to hope for a long-distance relationship. But he’d savored every inch of her. Being inside her was the most pleasurable sensation of his life. He hadn’t touched a woman in five years. For the next five, he’d replay this encounter.

How could he be sorry? He was ecstatic. He was...in love with her.

His heart twisted in his chest, pained by the realization. He tucked the wool blanket around her slim body and climbed out of the car. The rain had abated, but runoff was still streaming down the wall, trickling in rivulets along the cracked asphalt. He stared at the water, tears burning behind his eyes.

Falling for a woman he couldn’t have was an epic mistake.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was a criminal, a killer, a womanizer. He’d been dishonorably discharged from the military. He had a shoddy education and no future prospects.

Christ, he had nothing to offer her. He worked hard labor for piss pay, and was allotted one phone call a week.

He was a damned fool.

Laughing harshly at himself, he blinked the moisture from his eyes. He couldn’t win her over with scribbled poetry, or send her a ring from a box of Cracker Jack. The only women who wanted to date violent offenders—and there were some—had a few screws loose. Garrett didn’t respond to letters from lonely hearts anymore. He wasn’t the type of man to take advantage of mentally unstable females.

Until now.

Lauren wasn’t lonely or desperate. She was smart and beautiful and talented. She could have anyone she wanted. He couldn’t expect a woman like her to waste her time on a dead-end loser like him.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, or fantasizing about touching her again, he returned to the supplies by the RV. Tomorrow, Owen would have to climb with limited help. Garrett’s left arm felt like a limp noodle. What they needed was a ladder. Inspired, he gathered all the rope before realizing he couldn’t tie knots without two good hands.

Someone else would have to complete the task.

Crowbar at his side, he settled down in the most comfortable lawn chair. Mickey snored in sleep, chains rattling as he rolled over. Garrett doubted Jeb could slither into their camp without making noise, but he stayed vigilant.

The night was interminable. Penny’s baby cried every few hours. Garrett had seen Cruz earlier this afternoon. She’d brought the baby to the door to show him off. He was scrawny and dark-haired, not chubby and bald. But Garrett’s chest had tightened with emotion upon seeing the warm, protective look on Penny’s face.

He wondered what it was like to be a parent, and if his father had felt that instant connection. If he still felt it. Or if the bond between them had disintegrated under the weight of shame and disappointment.

In the wee hours of the morning, Owen stumbled out of the camper. He took the chair next to Garrett, rubbing his eyes.

“Baby keeping you awake?”

“No,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat. “Something else.”

Garrett didn’t have any trouble guessing his problem. After being with Lauren once, he was in the same predicament. He could smell her on his fingers, and he knew what she felt like. Now he was more acutely aware of what he’d been missing.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Owen said.

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Garrett replied.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “She’s a mother.”

“She’s not your mother.”

“You don’t think it’s...twisted?”

“To be attracted to a pretty girl, when you haven’t gotten laid in years? No. I don’t think it’s twisted. If you’re imagining pushing the baby aside and stealing a drink of milk, that’s a little weird.”

Owen laughed, shaking his head. “No.”

Chains scraped against concrete in the distance. “Water,” Mickey moaned weakly. “Give me water.”

They both ignored him.

“You building a ladder?” Owen asked.

“I was trying to.” Garrett picked up the rope and showed him which kind of knot to use. While Owen worked on the rungs, Garrett consulted the map. “When you get out, you’re going to have to find a bike.”

“What kind of bike?”

“A mountain bike with sturdy tires would be best. But use whatever you can find. I don’t know what the roads will be like. If they aren’t too badly damaged, you could drive a motorcycle.”

“I’d have to steal one first.”

“Yeah. That might be a bad idea.” He tapped his finger on the map. “It’s twenty miles to the National Guard station, heading east on the 8.”

Owen squinted at the route, committing it to memory.

Garrett worried about Owen’s chances for success. There might be outlaws and looters along the way that made his Aryan brothers look like sweethearts. The highway also ran along the U.S.–Mexico border. If Owen decided to cut through the desert and make a break for it, no one could stop him. “Can I trust you?”

“Of course,” he said, affronted.

“I wish there was another option.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it.”

Garrett hoped so, because his hands were tied. Even if he could climb with one arm, he had to stay to protect the others. Lauren wouldn’t leave the patients behind. Penny had a newborn baby to take care of.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” Owen said, securing another knot. “I’ll finish the rope ladder by morning.”

Garrett leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. Images of Lauren danced in his head, filling him with a mixture of euphoria and anxiety. Even so, he drifted off quickly, surrendering to exhaustion.





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