Текст книги "A Mad Zombie Party"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

The drive home is a celebratory affair. The war is finally over—ding dong the witch is dead—and all of my friends are alive.

“Let Rebecca be a cautionary tale for all of us,” Milla says. “Act like a hooker, get screwed.”

I chuckle softly, but sober quickly. “River. Chance.” The two sit across from me in the van. “You guys need to hack into Rebecca’s accounts and drain her money. She’s dead, yeah, but we can’t allow anyone else to use her resources and keep the company afloat.”

“I’ll do it,” River replies. “Then, I recover from battle, Marks-style.”

Cole parks in our underground garage. Couples begin to dart upstairs, one after the other. I understand their urgency. I want Milla in my arms. I need her in my arms. I’m going to show her how much I love her.

She’s my world.

The moment she put herself in front of me, taking the bullets meant for me, I knew. I could deny the truth no longer. I love her, and I’m never letting her go.

Before we make to the first step, River moves to block our path. “Is now a bad time to mention you guys have to do my laundry for a month?”

Milla flips him off.

He slaps her finger aside. “Is that any way to treat your favorite person on earth?”

“Currently you hold the exalted position of least favorite.”

“Even though I promise not to stand in your way if you decide to live here?”

My smile is nothing more than a challenge. “Try and take her away. I dare you.”

He studies me, silent, and nods. Then he turns away, calling, “Justin. We’re the only smart—I mean, single—guys left. After I pad our bank accounts with Rebecca’s money, we’re going to Hearts, and I’m going to teach you how to score any chick you want—except the ones I want.”

The two head for the door. Milla looks up at me and pouts. “You don’t want to do long-distance with me?”

Hell, no. But would I be willing? Yes. If necessary. Thing is, I want her with me. Now and always. I want her in my bed every night, and in my arms every morning.

“Do you want to return with him?” Hell, if I must, I’ll join River’s crew.

“Well,” she says, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. The finger I myself am wrapped around. “I haven’t been offered an official position here.”

Is that the problem? “Let’s settle that once and for all.” I heft her over my shoulder, sending her into peals of laughter. I carry her to our bedroom, then shut and lock the door. When I set her on her feet, she doesn’t move away from me, but stands in front of me, nibbling on her bottom lip. Nervous now?

“I love you, Milla Marks.” My gaze locks with hers. “I love you more than pizza and victory, which I used to think were my two favorite things. But it’s you. You are my favorite hello. If you die, I die. We’re bonded in a way I never expected and never before experienced. You are a treasured part of me, and I don’t care if you put me first or last, just as long as you put up with me.”

Tremors in her chin. “I don’t... I can’t... Aston. I love you so freaking much.”

Waves of relief...waves of joy.

“I almost can’t believe this is happening,” she says. “Earlier I lived my worst nightmare. Now I’m living my greatest dream. But I still haven’t heard an invitation.”

Contentment settles deep in my heart. “Sweet pea, you are my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye, and I don’t want to go a day without you. Consider that your official invitation.”

A slow, sweet smile lifts the corner of her lips. “Consider this my official acceptance.”

Darling girl. “Let’s kiss on it.”

“Let’s do more than that.” Smiling, she pushes me toward the bed.

My knees hit the edge of the mattress, and I fall. She jumps on top of me to straddle my waist. I grip her waist, holding her in place. And damn, I love the view. The sheet she’s wearing is ripped in several places and gaping open.

“You think you can rough me up, sweet pea?”

“Oh, I know I can. You might be bigger than me—”

“A lot bigger.” I arch my hips to show her just how much.

She moans, then manages to finish her sentence. “—but I’m spunky.”

“And you sometimes like to perform that testicle removal,” I add helpfully.

“Yes, I do. Which makes it strange that you keep calling me sweet pea.”

“Why? You’re delicious and nutritious, and I can’t have just one taste.”

Laughing, she braces her hands at my temples. “So...does this mean you’re my boyfriend? Now...and in the morning?”

I move fast, so fast she’s unable to counter, swinging her to her back. “I’m your boyfriend, and you are my girlfriend—now and always. I’ll hear no arguments on the subject.”

“What about complaints?” She rakes her nails down my chest. “You talk too much.”

“Then let’s put my mouth to better use.”

I press my lips against hers, and she doesn’t just return the kiss, she pours herself into it, giving me every part of her, nothing held back. She tastes so good, and she’s so warm, so wonderfully warm, my need for her becomes frenzied. I run my hands over her, desperate to touch her, all of her.

But. Yeah. There’s a but.

With a growl, I lurch back. “You’re in charge of this. Whatever you want, I’ll do.” She’s used to hit and runs, guys who care only about their own needs. I’m going to give her more, so much more.

I’m giving her everything.

“Aston...” As she studies me and the tattoos inked on my chest, her expression is luminous. “You said you didn’t care if I put you first or last, but I want you to know that you’re first with me. You’ll always be first. And now I want you to kiss me again. Kiss me and never stop.”

“That I can do.” I swoop in for another kiss, and what begins as a sweet communion soon turns into a feral feeding. I can’t get enough of her mouth, her tongue or her teeth.

Can’t get enough of her.

I whisk the makeshift dress off her and look her over—and thank God for second chances. “You are perfect,” I rasp, because it’s the truth. “There’s nothing about you I would change.”

“Aston.” A curse. A plea. “Less talking. More doing.”

“Good. I like the way you communicate.” I straighten to kick off my boots and strip. When I crawl back over her, she accepts my weight with a sexy moan. We rub against each other, creating the most beautiful friction.

“Please, Aston,” she gasps. “More.”

I grind against her with more force. “I love when you say my name.”

“I love saying it.” She glides her tongue over my lips then adds huskily, “I love the taste of it.” The look she gives me is a little wicked and wanton—and a lot dirty.

“Taste...yes...” I kiss her from mouth to ankle and everywhere in between, until I’m drunk on all things Milla. The sweetness of her, the silk of her skin, the little sounds she makes when I do something she really enjoys. Sometimes I pause just to peer into her eyes, to convince myself she’s real, and this is happening. It isn’t long before she’s writhing, begging me incoherently, a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow. But only when she’s quivering and begging for release do I brace an arm at her temple and trail the other down—

“Oh!” she gasps. “That’s...that’s...incredible.”

“I’m just getting started.” I play with her some more, taking my time preparing her for what’s to come. Not just physically, but emotionally. As I touch her, I tell her how much she means to me. I tell her how beautiful she is, and how lost I’d be without her. Soon, she’s once again plagued by need and begging...and I’m on the verge of losing control. “Condom,” I tell her, leaning over to grab one from the nightstand. I’m shaking.

As I roll on the latex, she nips at my mouth. She sucks on my neck and claws at my back.

“The way you make me feel...”

“If it’s anything like the way you make me feel, we’re going to have the best life together.”

Of that I had no doubt. “Look at me.”

Her gaze meets mine without hesitation. I hold her stare. I want her to know I’m here with her. I’m not thinking of anyone else. It’s just the two of us in this bed.

“Aston,” she whispers. “Now.”

Yes.

Now.

* * *

I have never been so sated. Milla...she rocked my whole freaking world.

We doze for a bit, wake, make love again, then doze again.

The second time we awaken, I wonder how she tricked the agents who were supposed to kill the others. Our eyes meet—

–and I’m walking toward the front door of the house. The lights are out, and all is quiet. But I know trouble waits outside. When I turn the lock, the door bursts open and four men rush inside the foyer. They’re dressed in black, and the one in front points his gun directly at my chest. I knew this was coming, prepared for it, but I hate that it’s happening. Takes all of my willpower to remain calm. I have to remain calm. The life and death of my friends depends on me.

“The slayers are drugged and asleep,” I say.

He motions toward the staircase with the barrel of the gun. “Take us to the bedrooms.”

He keeps the weapon pressed between my shoulder blades as I lead the way. All he has to do is twitch his finger and boom, I’m dead. My knees threaten to buckle as I climb the stairs. If one thing goes wrong, just one...

“Here.” I stop on the third floor. “Only two bedrooms are unoccupied.”

“Ali Bell?” he demands.

“In the room at the far right.”

The men branch off, each entering a different room. In the silence, I pick up the slight pop pop of silencers being put to good use, and hot tears streak down my cheeks. I know no one is actually in bed. I know test dummies from the work-out rooms are now dressed in wigs and clothes and they’re the ones taking the bullets. I know lightbulbs have been removed from every lamp, just in case a bad guy decides to double-check his kill. I know my friends are hiding in closets and bathrooms, just in case we have to fight our way out of this horrible plan.

But the stress just might kill me.

Two of the men return. The tallest one blows me a kiss.

“Shame to kill all the pretties without giving them a proper send-off.” He looks me up and down and leers. I’ll call him Target One. “Maybe you can make it up to me later.”

I shudder with revulsion.

“Shut up,” the other snaps. “Those girls are hard-core. They would’ve cut out your heart before you ever got your pants down.”

Target One says, wiggling his brows at me. “Not if they were tied properly.”

The remaining agents come out of Cole and Ali’s room, dragging a sleep-rumpled and handcuffed Ali between them.

“Did you do this?” She tries to lunge at me.

Gold-star acting, right there.

“I’m sorry,” I say, playing my part, as well. Not that I have to do much acting. I’m miserable.

“Let’s go.” My arm is gripped. I’m yanked forward and—

–the bedroom comes back into focus.

I’m yanked from Milla’s memories, and I want to rage about the danger she faced. I want to rejoice at the results. “I’m surprised Cole allowed Ali to be taken.”

“He didn’t want to,” she says, “but that girl can be persuasive.”

“You mean bossy, stubborn and vengeful.” She nods, and I add, “You suffer from the same afflictions.”

She slaps my shoulder. “Why are girls bitches and boys authoritative?”

“Because we rule, and you drool.”

“You did not just say that.” She rolls her eyes.

“Had I been here,” I say, wrapping my arms around her, holding her the way I plan to hold her for the rest of our lives, “things would have gone down differently.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her voice is low and husky.

“Oh, yeah. You are the most important part of my life, and I protect what’s mine.”

Her body softens, her legs parting to make a cradle for me. “So you’re keeping me? Forever?”

“Forever...to start.” I nip at her lips. “Mills, maybe I failed to make it clear. I’m never letting you go.”

* * *

Milla and I leave the bedroom only once, and we do it only because we’re dying of hunger. Once she’s fed, she tells me she can finally think straight and she’s no longer certain she should live in the mansion.

She’s teasing, I know, but I protest. A lot. We spend a hot, sweaty hour negotiating. In the end, we are both exhausted, and we agree she’ll live here, and I’ll do whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and I’ll like it.

You know, I kinda feel like I got the better end of the deal.

But now we’re hungry again. I leave her lounging in bed, excited about the future, my head buzzing with plans. I head to the kitchen to fix up her favorite bowl of SpaghettiOs and bake—or try to bake—red velvet brownies. The rest of the house is still in bed, and I’m going to romance the hell out of my girl, take her on her very first date.

“Hello, Frosty.”

I almost drop the bags of sugar and flour, but manage to set them on the counter before I face Kat. “Hey.”

She smiles at me. “I came to say congratulations on your victory.”

“We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know.”

I laugh. Such a Kat response.

“I just came to tell you that I’m glad you ended up with Milla,” she says. “You two fit in a way we never did. One day you would have resented me for my fears, for trying to keep you out of danger, and I knew it.”

“Kat—”

“No, don’t try to deny it.” She hurries on before I can respond. “I’m glad you’re at peace, Frosty. You deserve a happily-ever-after.”

“So do you.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not too late.” She blows me a kiss. “Well, I better go. Petitions to file, people to help.” She turns, and I realize Milla is standing in the doorway. “If you ever need advice about the best ways to torture him, all you have to do is call for me. Kat to the rescue!” She’s gone a second later.

“Hi,” I say with a little wave. “I woke up, you weren’t there...”

Frosty smiles at me, and it’s the warmest, sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. It lights me up inside. “Come here.”

I close the distance, and he folds me in his arms. “I know I can’t replace Kat,” I say.

He kisses the tip of my nose. “You don’t need to replace her, sweet pea. There’s room in my heart for both of you.”

Those words... Room in my heart. They hit me and hit hard, because they are so beyond right. Not just for him, but for me. A heart can be filled with love or it can be filled with hate, but never both. The two emotions simply cannot coexist—like light and shadow, one always chases the other away. I can’t love Frosty and hate myself for my past sins; I have to make a choice. Hold on to love or hold on to hate.

Like I really need to think about it. I’ll always choose Frosty.

I have to forgive myself. Finally. I have to let go, just like River said.

I told my brother it would be impossible. I was so certain the past had its claws buried deep. But that’s not true, is it? The past is nothing but a memory. I sank my claws in it.

Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead on Frosty’s shoulder. I inhale...exhale. Letting go doesn’t have to be some grand gesture, I admit now, just a flip of a switch inside my mind. A decision to do and follow through.

I flip the switch.

I don’t actually feel any different, but that’s okay. Feelings always follow action.

Frosty combs his hands through my hair. “You okay?”

“I am. I really am.” I meet his gaze and smile.

He cups my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my flushing skin. “I’m a slave to that smile.”

I melt against him. “You’re also an amazing boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“And modest.”

He winks at me. “I hope you’re ready to have your mind blown, because I’m taking you on a date. I was going to call you down in an hour, when I had all your favorites on the table. Plus candles. And rose petals. And soft music playing in the background. After dinner, I thought I’d take you to a movie. You know, act normal for a change.”

My mouth drops. A date. Our first. My first.

If I didn’t already love this boy...

“Frosty,” I say, breathless.

“I know. I’m amazing.” He leads me to the table, helps me sit and kisses my forehead. I’m in awe as he chops and mixes and bakes, pours the juice I favor and massages my shoulders. We talk and laugh, and for the first time in my life, I feel normal.

“By the way,” he says, moving beside me, “you’re going to tattoo me.”

What? “No way. I might mess up.”

“You won’t. I want your name on me.”

Wait, wait, wait. He wants to wear my name? Forever? “Aston,” I whisper, overwhelmed.

“I’m proud to be with you, and I want the world to know it.”

How can I say no to that? “Yes. I’ll do it.”

“In black and white.”

Could this boy be any sexier? “In black and white. But I’ll wear your name in color.” What I feel for him is beautiful and vibrant.

He leans over and kisses me. “You make me happy.”

Cole and Ali snake around the corner. They are kissing and laughing—nope, kissing again. Immersed in each other, they fail to notice the oncoming wall and ricochet backward. They break apart, laughing again.

Both have sleep-rumpled hair. Ali is wearing a T-shirt that reads Gotta Get Some Killer Zs and a pair of boxers. Cole is shirtless, like Frosty, and wearing a pair of low-slung sweats.

“The men in this household are hot,” I say and fan myself. I stand to take my plate to the sink.

“Hey.” Frosty slaps my butt. “Eyes on me, sweet pea. I’m the only hot you need to concern yourself with. Besides, if you look at Cole, Ali will cut out your eyes.”

“Ali will?” I ask with a smile.

“I most certainly will not,” Ali says. “I know my guy is a prime piece of grade A man-steak. If I wanted to keep him from being eye-mauled on a daily basis, I’d have to blind every woman in the world.”

I nod in agreement. “See?” I say to Frosty, then face Ali. “I know just what you mean. The difference is I am willing to blind every woman in the world.”

Frosty laughs. “Suck it, Cole. My girl loves me more than yours loves you.”

Ali chokes back her chuckles as she waves a fist at me. Cole just flips off Frosty.

“You made SpaghettiOs, Frost?” Ali asks. “I’ll have a bowl. Thanks.”

“Ditto,” Cole says. They both sit at the table, waiting expectantly.

“You’re both douche-purses,” Frosty mutters. “You know that, right?”

I watch him as he prepares a bowl for each, and I smile. All my life, I never thought I’d have this. I’m loved by the sexiest guy in existence. I’m cherished. I have friends who trust me and count on me. I’m not looking over my shoulder every few seconds, knowing another blow is coming, it’s just a matter of time. I’m not the girl who betrayed everyone. I’m the girl who helped save everyone.

Frosty carries the bowls to the table, but rather than taking his own chair, he picks me up, sits down and settles me in his lap.

“I remember when you liked having me on your lap,” Ali says to Cole after swallowing a spoonful. “We must be getting stale.”

Cole stands—and then sits in her lap. “How’s this, honey?”

The four of us erupt into peals of laughter.

“You really are a douche-purse.” Ali pushes Cole away and says, “So...tell them what we saw.”

Cole steals Ali’s bowl and finishes off the contents. “All our abilities—”

“All our abilities are back,” she blurts, taking over the story. “This morning we sat out on a swing outside, holding hands like we once saw in a vision. I had the journal in my lap, and when the wind kicked up, it opened. Pages that were once blank are now filled with writing, and nothing is in code. Anyway, I digress. Cole and I looked at each other and we had a new vision. One of our entire group standing around the perimeter of Shady Elms. We weren’t touching, but had our arms extended toward each other. A gust of power exploded from us and swept through the entire graveyard, cleansing every shell and spirit of zombie toxin. We didn’t have to get bitten, and we didn’t have to fight.”

I don’t doubt the vision will come true. “Can you imagine?” I ask Frosty, excited by the possibilities. “We’re not slayers anymore. We’re janitors. The clean-up crew.”

His arms tighten around me. “We’ll go to college. I’ll get my degree in criminal justice and become the youngest, hottest detective on the force.”

“Second-youngest and hottest,” Cole interjects.

Please. “Sorry, Holland, but you might as well get used to being second best when you’re around my guy.”

Frosty smirks. “You hear that, Holland?”

“Meanwhile, I’ll be the youngest, hottest surgeon in town.” I kiss Frosty on the forehead. “I’ll make all your boo-boos better.”

He barks out a laugh. “If you’re going to be kissing my boo-boos, don’t be surprised when I come home with suspicious wounds in suspicious places. Speaking of...” He jumps to his feet, keeping me in his arms. “If you guys will excuse us,” he says to Ali and Cole, “we’re in the middle of a date.”

They boo and hiss, but Frosty keeps going, carrying me away.

“No movie?” I tease.

“Oh, you’ll get your movie. I’ll pop in a DVD.”

“Desperate to be alone with me?”

“You have no idea.”

Joy practically fizzes in my veins as we enter our bedroom. People usually say some variation of “this is life, get used to it” when bad things happen. But right now, everything is just right. Everything is perfect. And to me, this is life. I’ll get used to it.

* * * * *