Born to Fight

I feel sick, "People die in the woods from no water and no food or eating the wrong thing, and here in the city, you all are living like this? I was in a town a few years ago and the people there were so dirty and skinny, they were eating their dead."



Bernie makes a face and puts his hands up, "I didn’t make this war, Emma."



I look at Will for support, but he shakes his head, "We can't focus on the small things. We gotta save Anna."



I swallow it down, the anger and pain. I fight my urge and want to rant or smash things.



Will starts laughing and points out the window, "I can see a group of those little kids beating someone up. I always imagined it was a crazy story to scare people."



We walk to where he is, and sure enough, there is a group of kids beating someone in the alley between the tall buildings. No one stops it. No one even looks at it. They walk past the alley and ignore that it's going on. A van comes tearing around the corner, stopping feet from them. Men in white suits jump out and chase the kids down. It's like watching TV when I was little.



"Why doesn’t he stop making them, if they are like this?" I mutter, touching my fingers to the cold glass.



"I don’t know. He's convinced he can control them and they'll outgrow their tempers and bad behavior," Bernie stands next to me and sighs, "He doesn’t see. None of them do."



I shake my head, "What a waste of time and technology. He built this city and this life, but for what? So those freaks can overrun it and destroy everything he's worked for? Makes no sense."



I turn away from it, looking out at the city. It's small but everything gleams from the glass and metal. It looks new but the people don’t. "Everyone looks like they do in the borderlands. They aren’t dressed fancy."



Will walks to where I am. The heat of his body so near mine makes me shiver, "There are no factories or cotton fields or anything. They haven’t made a new world, they just put up walls and made a bunch of places to live. The work farms get them food and essentials, but really they aren’t much different than the rest of us. The furnishings and clothes are scavenged."



Bernie gives us a grim look, "Except they have an army and a population of people. We feel safer in a group. People naturally want to be around other people. We used to say that before, safety in numbers."



I nod, "I feel safe here. I'm not—I'm not comfortable with the walls and the possibilities, but I feel safe. I could close my eyes and sleep and know nothing is going to kill me in the night."



He shrugs, "And yet, this is the most dangerous place for someone like you."



I watch his face when he says it. He doesn’t attach emotions to the things he says, unless it's sarcasm. He has plenty of that. I wonder if he ever cries or feels scared.



Will grabs my shoulders, "Let's rest and then we'll head out in the night."



Bernie points to a door to the right of us, "That’s the guest room."



Before I realize what's going on, Will takes my hand and pulls me to the door. When he opens it I frown and look back at Bernie, "Is there another room?"



He points to the door on the other side of the apartment, "Mine." He grins like he's daring me. I look up at Will, "You should go sleep with him."



He laughs and pulls me into the room, closing the door behind us, "I'm not leaving your side. I'll sleep on the chair."



I look at the tiny chair and the not-so-tiny bed and sigh, "No. Just stay on your own side of the bed."



I strip my boots off and climb into the sheets in my pants. I hate bringing the filth of the day into bed with me, but these clothes are cleaner than my body.



I close my eyes and pretend I don’t notice the heat or weight of him on the bed next to me.



I drift away fast, mostly because he is there. He is the safest thing in the world. Him and Leo.



I wake feeling heat under and around me and moan. I try to run my fingers through the fur but I find skin, hot skin. I open one eye to find myself splayed across him, like I do to Leo. I feel moisture under my face and wince. I lift my hand slowly to wipe away the spit I've left all over him. I glance up, hoping to find him sleeping still, but I find his grinning face instead.



"Evening, ma'am."



I gulp, "Sorry." I wipe the spit with the sheet.



He laughs, shaking us both and hugs me down onto his chest again. "For a shy prude of a girl you are a naughty sleeper." I pull back but his thick arm traps me to him, "Oh, you aren’t going anywhere now. You've been rubbing me and squeezing me all afternoon."



My heartbeat picks up. I feel panic. His words are threats in my brain, but his gentle smile and blazing eyes don’t scare me. He doesn’t scare me. I realize it now. It's been a game in my mind to keep him at bay, I scare me.



He rolls me on my side, trapping me. It feels tight, constraining but I like it. Like we are in a cocoon.



My hands tremble where they press into his chest.



He smiles devilishly and presses his lips against mine. The heat and intensity of him pressing against me, makes sparks where our skin connects.



His tongue slides into my parted lips. I kiss the way he does, slipping my tongue against his. Our wet lips caress and suck each others. He sucks my tongue and I catch a moan escaping me.



My breathing increases with my hands movements. I knead his thick, muscled back, gripping him and pulling him down on me.



He moves between my thighs, pressing himself against me. I don’t know what's happening, but I'm pressing myself against him back. He's gentle and delicate with his kisses and caresses. His hand rubs from my lower leg to my upper thigh. He breaks our kiss and gently kisses my throat. He cups my butt cheek firmly, lifting me almost.



It's not how I imagined it, none of it. He's soft and delicate. He sits back and opens the buttons on my shirt softly, he plants a kiss on my exposed skin as each button comes off. He opens the shirt. My hands naturally lift to cover me. As I cover my breasts, my walls start rebuilding themselves. I shake my head, "No."



He nods and laughs, "Okay." He climbs off the bed and pulls on his shirt. He's panting, we both are.



He looks at me and I see something I've never seen from him—understanding. He isn’t mad, he isn’t mean, he isn’t being sarcastic or rude. He gets it. He sees how scared I am.



I frown and take an inventory of my feelings. I'm not scared. I want him. I want him to climb back into the bed. I want him to rub against me again.



I look at the door and nod, "See if it locks."



He furrows his brow, "What?"



I swallow, still covering myself, "See if it locks."



He starts to get what I'm saying, "It does. I locked it when we came in."



I take a deep breath and remove my hands from my chest. I put them on the bed, gripping the sheets that are still warm from his body being there.



He arches an eyebrow and I nod in tiny twitches. He pulls his shirt off and drops his pants. He takes a step in his underwear and gives me the look once more. I take him in. His body is beautiful. He's muscled and smooth and I want to slowly touch every inch of him. My eyes dart to his underwear and nod, "Yes." I want to touch every inch.



He climbs into the bed and pulls back the covers. His fingers tremble as much as mine do as he pulls off my pants. We are both just in a pair of underwear. He loops his fingers into the sides of mine.



"Last chance."



I smile, "Yes."



A grin breaks across his face as he pulls them down and I stifle the heart attack, I'm pretty sure I'm having.



Chapter Twelve



I feel different.



I knew I would, but I wasn’t expecting it to be as much as it is.



It's a lot.



He keeps giving me a weird look, like he's scared of me or for me. I can just see it in his face thanks to the last of the sunlight coming in the window.



I frown finally, "What?"



His cheeks are still flushed. He shakes his head and licks his lips, "Nothing. Are you okay?"



I frown, "Why?"



"It's just not what I was expecting."



The comment hurts my feelings—feelings I didn’t know could get hurt. I feel myself pulling away.



He sees my look, "In a good way. Not what I was expecting in a good way."



I freeze, "We should get going." I don’t want to talk about it and his face is weird. He looks a bit like I imagine Jake would, self-conscience or nervous. He doesn't have the cocky Will face I'm used to.



He pulls me into his chest again and kisses the top of my head, "I love you, Em."



I look up, "Are you okay?"



He laughs, "Yeah, why?"



I shake my head, "You're acting like a girl."



He laughs, "Want me to rough you up a bit?" He cocks an eyebrow.



I roll my eyes, "I'll still shoot you."



He kisses again, "I know you will."



The awkwardness in the air is interrupted by a knock, thankfully.



"You guys ready to go?"



Will clears his throat, "Yup. Out in two." He looks at me, "You should stay here."



I grimace, "What?"



"Yeah, I was thinking you should stay here, in case we get caught."



I pull back, "No."



His eyes narrow, "It's not safe."



I shake my head, like I'm trying to rattle his words out of my brain. I climb off the bed and fish my underwear and pants out of the sheets. I pull them on fast. I don’t like being naked around him, which is weird, considering what we just did.



I pull on my socks and boots and walk from the room, leaving him still getting dressed.



Bernie looks at me with a grin, "Sleep well?"



I blush and look down, "Yeah. I'm hungry."



He points to the kitchen, "I have a bunch of food ready."



I walk past him to the kitchen and grab a bun. I smell it. We never get bread, ever. He always has bread it seems.