Outpost

“He caught you?” I guessed.



I felt his jerky nod. “But I never broke. I never told him what I was doing. No matter what.”



At that moment, I hurt so bad I thought my heart would crack in two. He’d kept my secret so I didn’t get in trouble, even when he thought I was doing who knew what with a boy he hated. That loyalty terrified me, even as I exulted in it; I’d try to be worthy of such devotion.



“I would’ve understood if you told,” I whispered. “I can take my own whippings.”



He shifted, pulling me into his lap fully so he could see my face. “Whether you can isn’t the point. I’ll always have your back.”



Even when we aren’t talking, even when you doubt me. Oh, Fade. Some might argue that if he didn’t track my movements at night, he wouldn’t have been caught, and his punishment would’ve been less severe, but I suspected that Jensen was a mean man when he was in the corn liquor, and he’d have found another reason to hurt Fade.



“Why did you follow me?” I asked then.



He hunched his shoulders. “If Stalker tried something you didn’t want and you needed help, I’d be here, just in case.”



“To protect me?”



“Yes. Always.” He was unshakable on that point, and it was sweet, except I could take care of myself.



I appreciated the intent even as I said, “I was fine.”



“What does that mean? Did he touch you?”



Finally, I understood what else was going on. I might be slow, but given time, I put the pieces together. “You have no reason to be jealous, I promise. We talked … and trained. You’re the only boy who gets close like this.”



“Oh.” A long, slow breath escaped him. “I feel so stupid.”



I put my lips to his cheek and whispered, “Don’t. I love you, Fade.”



My time in Salvation had taught me the meaning of the word and not to be stingy with its use. I should tell Edmund and Momma Oaks, in fact, before I returned to the outpost. It was a different sort, of course, but each permutation made my heart better and stronger, so I could fight harder.



He took a quick, unsteady breath. “That’s what I said to you in the wagon.”



And then his lips found mine, hot as sunshine, sweet as clean water. He wrapped me up in his arms, so I was above him, perched on his thighs, and I kissed him like he’d shown me earlier with peekaboo teases of tongue. I was too shy to do much of that at first, but my hesitance seemed to make him hungrier. His arms tightened, and suddenly I understood how the puzzle pieces fit together. Shocked excitement washed my whole body, but I didn’t scramble away. I trusted him, even when he fell back so I sprawled on top of him. His hands roamed, and mine did too, clumsy, strange, and irresistible. Then his palm closed on the curve of my breast, barely touched, pressed, through the silky fabric of my dress, and I felt like a sunrise.



Fade pulled me against him, hard, and then he rolled over, poised above me, and covered my face in quick, needy kisses. His breath hauled hard in his chest, a deep and desperate panting. I stroked lightly down his back, trying to comfort him, because I had some idea he was hurting. Certainly, I was, though I wasn’t sure why.



“Enough of that,” he tried to whisper, though it sounded like more of a growl. “I told Edmund my intentions were honorable.” He dusted more kisses at my temples, rubbed his rough jaw against my cheek, and squeezed his eyes shut, trembling.



“Are you all right?” I touched his hair.



“I won’t die,” he muttered. But he didn’t sound happy about the prospect of survival, and for some reason that made me laugh.



Fade bit my lower lip in retaliation. In time, my heartbeat slowed and the fever waned in my skin. Gradually, he calmed too and then he snuggled me against him, my head on his chest. A little awkward, I wrapped my arm across his waist. I’d never lain like this before, bodies close, arms and legs tangled. It had to be a good sign that he could bear to lie on his back; the physical damage must be healing.



“Where did you learn to kiss?” I asked quietly.



He tensed next to me but he answered. “There was a girl down below, a Breeder. She … liked to show me things.”



That shocked me to my core. Other questions spun in my head, laden with doubt. “Did you—”



“No. There’s no chance of any brats. We didn’t breed.”



“How did you feel about her?”



His shrug shifted my head on his chest. “I was lonely. Just … sometimes it was nice to be touched.”



“You told me that Banner was your only friend.”



“I wouldn’t call this Breeder a friend, Deuce. There are people who like breaking the rules. They find it exciting.”



“So she saw you as … a challenge?”



“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much when we were together … and it was only a couple of times. After Banner died, the other girl got scared we’d be caught. By that time, I had met you anyway.”



For the first time, I understood why Fade could be jealous of Stalker when I had reassured him more than once there was no reason to be. There was no chance he’d ever see this girl again, and yet her existence burned in my head like a live coal, because there was somebody else who knew how Fade tasted, how he felt. She might even be dead, based on what Silk had told me about the enclave’s fate in the fever dream, but that didn’t dim my envy at all.



My silence worried him. Fade rolled onto his side, facing me, his dark brows drawn together. In the flickering light I read his concern. “I knew you’d be mad.”



“It’s not that.”



“Then what?”



“I don’t know.” That was as honest as I could be. “There’s nothing for me to fear, but hearing that makes me feel … sick, thinking of you with someone else.”



“That’s because I’m yours,” he said softly. “Just like you’re my girl.”



This time, I didn’t argue with him. I understood what he meant. This bond couldn’t permit others inside; it required an exclusive devotion and commitment. He didn’t mean complete ownership, as I had believed before. Instead it was more complex than that, born of nuance and emotional shading. We could have other friends, of course, but I grasped the significance of his desire for exclusive kissing rights. Since that wasn’t my forte, I had to go on instinct and trust it wouldn’t lead me astray.



At length, I curled against him. I liked it better when we lay face-to-face, arms about each other. This way I could watch him from close up, only without the furtive fear he’d rouse and catch me. Since it was a cool night but not cold, our bodies generated sufficient heat to keep us warm. I knew I should probably get home soon, as it must be getting late, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.



“I wish this night could be endless,” I whispered.



“Me too. So … you’re not upset?”



I shook my head. “It happened down below, before … well, before us. If you tell me there’s a girl in Salvation teaching you things—”



“No. There’s no one, I promise.”



We lay for a while, with him stroking my hair. Sleep crept toward me but I fought it. If this was the last night I had like this for a while, I intended to make the most of it. Fade looked drowsy too, his eyes heavy lidded.



To keep us awake, I asked, “What do you remember about your parents?”



He thought for a few moments, his fingers clenched around locks of my hair. “My mother made the best bread. She had a pretty accent, smelled like flowers … and she had dark hair. She sang when she worked … but I’ve lost the words.” He hummed a haunting little tune, but I didn’t recognize it. When he didn’t go on, I realized he could recollect nothing more about his dam.



“Maybe someone here can tell you the name of the song and how it goes?”



“Maybe.”



I cupped his cheek in my palm. “Tell me about your sire.”



“What’s the point?”



“I’d like to know more about you, but if talking about them hurts, forget I asked.”



“Another time,” he promised. “I don’t want to be sad tonight.”



Unfortunately, when the conversation lapsed, I drifted off in his arms, and it was just before first light when I woke. Momma Oaks, if she’d waited up, would cut my hair with a hand ax—an expression I’d learned from Longshot—which meant I was in big trouble and due for a scolding.



“Fade,” I whispered. “We have to go.”



With a groan, he rolled to his feet and we gathered the supplies. I took the melted candles while he grabbed the blanket. I went out the door and he latched it behind me, then slid out the window. In the uncertain dawn, we strolled hand in hand. There were no other citizens stirring yet. I worried about our reception at home, but when I slipped through the back door, the house was quiet. Relieved, I gave Fade a quick kiss as we put away his old bedroll.



“We should sleep a little more, if we can,” he said, low. “I’ll take the nook off the kitchen.”



Nodding, I crept up the stairs and got in bed. With luck, they’d never know just how late I’d gotten home. It had been a long, emotionally exhausting night, and I was glad to rest in an actual bed. Sleep came fast despite my vague guilt.



Hours later, after Edmund had gone to work, I washed up, changed, and ate breakfast with Fade and Momma Oaks. She had a thousand questions about the dance, which I answered with his help. By tacit agreement, we didn’t mention our arrival time. Eventually, she ran out of excited chatter and said, “I have to get to work … four dresses on order for Justine and Caroline Bigwater.”



“Well, they have to look the part,” I murmured.



Momma Oaks twisted her mouth like she had something to say, but basic kindness prevented her. I spared her by changing the subject. “We have a few hours yet. I need to stop at the store before I go back.”



“Can I go with you?” Fade asked.



“Of course.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask about my alleged shopping in front of my foster mother.



At her waved dismissal, I kissed her cheek, put our dishes in the sink, and then left via the back door. It was a misty day, coming on to rain, and the light held a hesitant hue. He was good at reading my expression because he didn’t open his mouth until we walked ten steps away from the house.



“What are you doing, Deuce?” His look was quiet and severe, as if he expected me to lock him out.



Instead I summarized what I knew about Momma Oaks and her problems with her son, Rex, then concluded, “I’m just going to talk to him, that’s all.”



Fade didn’t argue with me. At the store, I bought a ball of twine with one of my precious tokens and then inquired as to the whereabouts of Rex Oaks. Since I was staying with his mother, the owner didn’t question why I’d want to know. Salvation wasn’t the kind of town to safeguard secrets or privacy, anyway.



“I take it we’re visiting Rex,” he said, as we left the shop.