“Yeah,” she sighed, shoulders slumping.
I stared at her as the concern for her—for her well-being—unfurled, replacing the hotter, easier emotion to deal with. Kat had been through so much, so there was no surprise that she’d have a hair trigger right now, that she’d see Will or Blake when they really weren’t there. I smoothed out my expression as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, drawing her into my side. “Are you really sure it was him, because if not, that’s okay. You’ve been under a lot of stress.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I remember you saying something like that to me before.”
“Now, Kitten, you know this is different.” I squeezed her shoulders. “Are you sure, Kat? I don’t want to get everyone freaking out if you’re not sure.”
Her gaze met mine for a second and then dropped. I squeezed her shoulders again, wishing like crazy she weren’t in this position. That she didn’t know this kind of fear.
“I’m not sure,” she said after a moment.
Closing my eyes, I brushed my lips across the top of her bowed head. She wrapped an arm around my waist and pressed her cheek against my chest. “It’s okay,” I said, running my hand up her back.
“Sorry,” she murmured, curling her fingers into the back of my thermal. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought—”
“You don’t need to apologize for that.” Reaching down, I brushed her hair back from her face. “It’s totally understandable.” When Kat didn’t reply, I held her a little tighter. “Tonight I’m on babysitting duty. Join me?”
There was a pause, and then Kat lifted her chin. “Sure.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes; it didn’t erase the haunted look there. The smile changed nothing.
Hours later I sat with Kat beside me, and Dawson on the other side of her, two movies into a zombie-thon. At first, we talked about different ways to find Beth, which kept going back to either the office building where Dawson had been held or at the warehouse with the cages.
Kat and Dawson were down with that plan, but I was the lone dissenting voice that repeatedly kept pointing out that the likelihood of her being there was slim, but we were still going to scope out the places this weekend.
Land of the Dead or Party of the Dead was on the TV. I had no idea which one, but some dead dude was eating some other soon-to-be-dead dude. I reached over, grabbing a handful of popcorn out of the bowl in Kat’s lap. “I had no idea you were a zombie fan. What is it—the blood and guts or the in-your-face social undertones?”
Kat laughed. “Mostly the blood and guts.”
“That’s so un-girlie of you.” I frowned as a zombie picked up a cleaver and started banging it against the wall. What the? “I don’t know about this. How many hours do we have left?”
Dawson raised his hand and two DVDs shot into his palm. “Uh, we have Diary of the Dead and Survival of the Dead.”
“Great,” I muttered. Truth was, I was having fun. I had my girl and my brother next to me, and even if what was on the TV was weird as shit, which coming from me was saying something, there was no other place I’d rather be.
Well, having Kat upstairs and in my bed was another place… I shifted my foot on the coffee table.
“Wussy,” Kat replied.
“Whatever.” I elbowed her, knocking a kernel of popcorn between her chest and notebook. She sighed, and I kind of wanted to fish it out with my mouth. “Want me to get that for you?” I asked.
Kat shot me a dark look as she plucked it out and threw it in my face. “You’re going to be grateful when the zombie apocalypse occurs and I know what to do because of my zombie fetish.”
I raised my brows. “There are better fetishes out there, Kitten. I could show you a few.”
“Uh, no thank you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to go to the nearest Costco or something?” Dawson asked, letting the DVDs float back to the coffee table.
I turned to him, incredulous. “And how would you know that?”
He shrugged. “It’s in The Zombie Survival Guide.”
“It is.” Kat nodded eagerly. “Costco has everything—thick walls, food, and supplies. They even sell guns and ammunition. You could hole up there for years while the zombies are getting their nom nom on.”
My mouth dropped open.
“What?” She grinned. “Zombies got to eat, too, you know.”
“Very true about the Costco thing.” Dawson picked up a single kernel and popped it in his mouth. “But we could just blast the zombies. We’d be fine.”
“Ah, good point.” She rooted around in the bowl, picking up a half-popped kernel.
“I’m surrounded by freaks,” I said, resisting a smile. Hearing Dawson talk like…like it used to be was priceless. On the screen, some idiot got a chunk of skin and tissue ripped out of his arm. “What the hell? The guy just stood there. Hello. There’re zombies everywhere. Try looking behind you, douche canoe.”