After the Ending (31 page)

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just have a lot of bad ones in there. It’s more
of a doodle book than anything.” I’d never shared any of my sketchbooks with
anyone other than Dani, but for some reason I wanted Jake to see it.

He didn’t say a word as he flipped through pages of realistic
depictions of some of what I’d seen over the past few weeks. I became lost in
thought as I remembered the time and place I’d started each drawing. There were
even some sketches I’d completely forgotten about.

Jake lingered on a sketch of a Labrador Retriever.
“That’s Sammy, Dave’s dog who died…and that’s the cabin we were staying in when
Harper and the crew met up with us.” Jake turned a few more pages. “Those are a
couple drawings I did on the drive here—they’re not very good.”

Before I knew it, there were forgotten sketches of
Jake—angry ones. His likeness stared up from the page, composed of dark lines
and harsh shading that reflected my opinion of him at the time. His drawn eyes
were flat, cruel, and judgmental, so different than the pair currently watching
me.

“Oh, uh, you can skip those.” Blushing, I reached over
and started flipping the pages as quickly as I could. “I was clearly having a
bad day.”
Oh my God
—
this is so embarrassing
.

Jake watched me too intently as I searched for something
else—anything else—to show him. Finding my drawings of Cooper, I stopped. “You
might like these,” I said, trying to refocus his attention.

His eyes absorbed the contents of the pages as he flipped
through them, but he remained silent, leaving me to wonder what he thought of
them. He analyzed the images like there were hidden messages within the lines
and shading. Sitting so close to him, I was becoming distracted by our
proximity. I leaned away.

The last drawing was of Cooper’s face, and just as I was
about to speak, Jake’s hand moved toward it. He gently ran his fingers over the
page like the drawing might come to life. “It’s perfect.”

“Really?” I whispered, not realizing I’d been holding my
breath. “Thanks.”

As he reached my most recent drawings, depictions of
Harper filled the pages…over and over. The images of him smiling in his white
lab coat looked true to life.

“I was practicing,” I tried to explain, though I didn’t
know why I felt the need to say anything at all.

Finally closing my book, Jake handed it back to me and
picked up his own. He casually rested his elbows on his knees. “Thanks for
sharing.” The distance in his voice had returned, instantly annoying me.

“Sure.” I pulled myself back into the opposite corner of
the couch. “What are you reading?”

He showed me the hardback’s dilapidated cover. “The Count
of Monte Cristo.”

“I’ve never read it, but the movie was great.”

“It’s my favorite book…I’ve read it about twenty times.”

I didn’t doubt it. With its scuffed cover and worn
binding, the book was practically falling apart. “Yeah, the binding needs a
little restoration. If you put some sort of cover on it, that’d at least stop
the rest of it from crumbling.”

His eyebrows rose in question. “I see,” he said.

“I know a lot of random stuff when it comes to preserving
things. Working in an art gallery was one of my former trades.”

“And your other trades?” he asked, sounding genuinely
curious.

“Um, let’s see…I’ve never worked on cars, put on a
fireworks show, or shot a gun, but I
did
work at an art supply place and
was a live model for some of the art classes at the U in Salem.”

Jake grinned knowingly.

“My clothes were on,” I clarified. “Oh, and I was a
bartender for a few years…and I dabbled in making saltwater taffy back home.”

“Bartender?” he asked, chuckling.
Even his smile is mysterious.
“That sounds like trouble.”
Smiles, laughing, and a little less
awkwardness…we’re breaking all sorts of records today.

I relaxed at the sound of his deep, rumbling laugh. “I
think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh,” I said, and instantly
worried I’d just ruined the progress we’d made.

“Not a lot of things make me laugh, I guess.” He leaned
back further into the couch.

“Well I’m glad my bartending is entertaining to you,” I
said, feigning annoyance. “What about you? What are
your
other trades?”

Jake thought for a moment before saying, “Nothing very
interesting.” He was avoiding my question, but I didn’t push him.

I glanced down at my sketchpad, leaving him to return to
his book, but I could tell he was distracted. “Do you think we’ll ever be…
not
awkward around each other?” I asked, breaking the silence.

My question hung in the air as he continued reading.
Finally, he turned the page, and without looking at me, asked, “You mean, like
friends?”

“Yeah, I mean…like normal people who can have a normal
conversation.”

He peered at me. “Funny, I thought that’s what we were
doing.” His tone had hardened.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I don’t have a lot of friends,” Jake added reluctantly.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I leaned back and stared
at my empty page. I couldn’t concentrate with him sitting beside me. I wondered
what he was thinking. I started to doodle on the page, unable to stay focused.
I thought about our silent flirtation in the garage, the blood transfusion, and
the fireworks. I kept asking myself what it all meant, or if it meant anything
at all. I wondered why it was bothering me so much that he wouldn’t open up to
me—why it preoccupied me to the point of drawing my knot tattoo over and over
again.

I sat, stewing in questions, further confused by the
sense of unease I felt radiating from Jake despite his calm appearance. The
sounds of the fire, book pages turning, and my pencil tracing the length of the
textured page were all that filled the passing minutes. Yawning, I guessed an
hour or so had passed, and since I had to wake up early, I figured I should get
some sleep.

Gathering my things, I stood. “Well, I’m training with
Harper tomorrow, so I should call it a night.” Folding the blanket and laying
it on the back of the couch, I met Jake’s narrowed eyes.

“You’re still leaving?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes,” I said simply, not wanting to start an argument.
And
you’re not coming with me.
“Goodnight.”

Dani

Careful not to wrinkle the priceless photo sheltered in the
safety of my coat pocket, I searched around the ranch for Jason. He wasn’t in
the house, the stable, or the pasture. After the kiss…
Oh, what a kiss!…
he’d
disappeared. I’d enlisted the help of dozens of animals in my search and was
keeping the mind connections open in case they tracked him down.

Finally, I heard the faint sound of Jack’s howl, and I
knew he’d found my quarry. “
Come. Hurry. Strange,”
my dog said as he
appeared at the crest of a nearby hill, barking nonstop for emphasis.

“Okay, okay, hold your horses. I’m coming,” I grumbled,
stalking up the hill. It was cold, and after connecting with so many minds in
my call for help the previous night—human and animal minds—I was as exhausted
as a person could be without collapsing. Something about using my Ability on
people
seemed to wear me out more than anything I’d ever experienced, and my several
hour nap hadn’t rejuvenated me completely.

After walking for a few minutes, Jack and I spotted Jason
in a sparse copse of cypress trees. He was hacking his way through their
trunks, tree by tree. His bare, glistening back bunched and flexed with each
swing of the ax. Part of me wanted to just stand and admire him from afar, but
I had been looking for him for a reason.

Once I was close enough that I didn’t need to shout, I
asked, “What are you doing, Jason?”

He paused with the ax raised but didn’t face me.
“Chopping firewood.”
Duh.
He swung again. And again.

“This is kind of far from the house.”
Double duh.

Another pause. “Yep.” Another swing.

I rounded the tree he was currently hacking away at,
careful to keep clear of the ax’s arc and the erratically jettisoned wood
chips. Jason avoided looking at me while I studied him. Other than his curt
answers, he acted like he was completely alone. He seemed to lose himself in
the meditative motion, and I lost myself in watching him. Lift. Swing.
Thunk
. Lift. Swing.
Thunk
.

He wore an expression of grim determination as his chest
and abdominal muscles rhythmically clenched and released. Clenched and
released. It was hypnotizing. And erotic. And annoying.

“How will you get it all back to the ranch?” I asked,
watching his focused, granite expression. There was so much beneath his
attractive surface. I wondered how many women had bothered to consider who he
was on the inside when his outside would more than make up for pretty much any
personality flaws. He was complicated and conflicted—he had always been—though
he rarely let it show. It took the world ending for me to realize it.

“I’ll carry it,” he said between swings.

“It’ll take a long time…lots of trips,” I commented.
Apparently I was turning into the Queen of Obvious.

Pause. “Yep.” Swing.
Thunk
.
Pause. “That’s the point.” Lift.

Heaving a huge sigh, I said, “We need to talk.”
I
was growing irritated with his apparent need to ignore me. In my pockets, my
hands clenched into fists. I had to remind myself to be careful not to crush
the photo.

Pause. “Can’t. Busy.” Swing.
Thunk
.
Lift.

Stop being such an
ass!
I thought angrily.

Pause. “But I’m so good at it.” Swing.
Thunk
. Lift.

Crap!
I hadn’t meant to speak in his head. I
definitely needed to get that under control. My mind was overflowing with
inappropriate thoughts that I desperately wanted to keep private.

“This is important…and difficult enough without you
flinging that thing around!” I snapped.

He said nothing. Swing.
Thunk
.
Lift. Swing.
Thunk
. Lift.

Around us, dozens of small furry shapes were tentatively
wandering closer, making me realize that I’d been maintaining my connection to
the animal scouts. I struggled to disconnect from their minds—exhaustion was
making my telepathy increasingly difficult to control.

Finally, as I continued to watch Jason take out his pent
up aggression on the tree, I lost it. “Dammit, Jason!” I shouted. Tears of
frustration swiftly welled and spilled down my cheeks. Silent sobs clenched my
gut, making my throat close spastically.

Abruptly, the ceaseless swing,
thunk
,
lift stopped. “Shit,” Jason muttered under his breath. He watched me with wide,
troubled eyes. “Don’t do that…I didn’t mean to…I shouldn’t have done what I did
back there.”

“What?” I choked out between sobs.
Did he just say he
shouldn’t have kissed me?
That made me cry even harder.

He approached me slowly. “With Cam and everything…and my
sister…I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh shut up!” I shrieked, unwilling to listen to all the
reasons kissing me was a mistake. Just knowing he regretted it was unbearable.
“This isn’t about
that
.”

The ax slid from Jason’s hand, thumping on the damp
ground. “It’s not? Then what?” He quickly closed the distance between us and
took my face in his hands—they seemed to burn my cold cheeks. “What is it?”

It was so much harder to form the words when he was being
gentle, not to mention when he was standing close enough to feel his enticing
heat. Like a coward, I closed my eyes.
“I…know what happened to your dad,”
I
said in his mind. Determined not to leave him to face his pain alone, I forced
my eyes open. “He’s dead.”

Jason’s eyes searched mine, and he swallowed repeatedly.
“How do you know?” he asked, his voice hollow and weak.

“Grams left a note for me before she…died,” I said, my
throat catching on the final word. Unable to speak coherently, I had to finish
in his mind.
“She found your dad sitting near the ocean. He was already
gone.”

Is it getting
harder to talk in his head?

“Oh…I…He…We…” Jason stammered, trying unsuccessfully to
voice different thoughts. He abruptly moved away from me, picked up the ax, and
threw it with a savage roar. It flew, end over end, and crashed against one of
the trees he’d mangled, dropping to the ground with a muffled thud.

I tentatively touched his shoulder, and he faced me, a
storm of hatred, rage, and regret churning in his eyes. As he searched my face,
the storm dissipated, and his expression softened. A single tear escaped from
one of his eyes and slid down the chiseled planes of his face. His palpable
anguish threatened to revive my own tears.

He fell to his knees in front of me and wrapped his arms
around my hips, pressing the side of his face against my down-padded chest. I
ran my fingers through his short, thick, black hair. It was a little longer
than it had been when he’d found me in my Seattle apartment, but not yet long
enough to show the loose curl I knew it held. He was the strongest man I’d ever
known; he was my rock. But for a brief period of time, I needed to be his.

“I’d hoped…,” he choked out, his arms clenching around me
tighter. “I’d thought maybe, just maybe…but it was stupid. Hope,” he growled,
“is for fools.”

I tightened my grasp on the sides of his head and forced
him to look up at me. “No, Jason,” I whispered. Continuing in his mind, I said,
“Losing hope…
that’s
for fools. What do you think happened to all
those people who survived the Virus and then killed themselves?
They
lost hope.
They’re
the fools. But us,”
I paused, basking in the way
his eyes drank me in, wondrous and hungry,
“we have wants and desires and
people we believe in. We have hope, and when we lose it, we might as well lie
down and die.”

Staring up at me, Jason seemed on the verge of saying
something. For what felt like minutes he said nothing. Finally, his arms
loosened around me, and his hands grasped my hips.

I trembled at the change in his gaze and shivered at the
increasing chill in the air. I was suddenly dizzy, unintentionally swaying from
side to side, and my head felt like it might explode.
Am I gonna pass out?
Not again…not now!

My vision darkened around the edges, and my knees abruptly
gave out. I would’ve collapsed to the ground if Jason hadn’t been holding me
up.

“Dani?” he asked. “Dani, what’s wrong?”

I tried to keep my eyes open—to breathe deeply—but my
brain’s commands weren’t being received. “My Ability…used too much…”

As my body went completely limp, Jason hooked one arm
behind my knees, the other around my shoulders, and stood. Instead of falling
to the soggy ground, I was cradled in his protective arms.

“Cold,” I whispered against his bare shoulder, acutely
aware of the contrast between the frigid air and his scorching skin. “It’s
dark.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Jason muttered worriedly as
he began walking at a quick clip.

“So cold…tired,” I mumbled, my head lolling back over his
arm.

“No Dani. Shit! Stay with me,” he urged. “I need you to
wrap your arms around my neck. Can you do that?”

“I think…maybe…” My tongue felt swollen, my arms leaden.
I focused all of my remaining strength on following his directions. I felt the
same as I had behind Grams’s house and after I’d hit the Crazy with the shovel,
except it was a hundred times worse.

“Good,” Jason said, hugging me tightly against his
blazing body. “Now hold on.” He began to run. The jarring motion helped me hang
on to consciousness, and in a few minutes, we were crashing through the front
door of the ranch house.

Startled by the commotion, Ky asked, “Jason, what’s—”

“Her body temp’s too low…fill the tub with hot water!”
Jason ordered.

Running out of strength, my arms released their hold on
Jason, and my head fell back. I blinked and was suddenly lying on the couch I’d
been using as a bed, my clothes being gently peeled away. Though I slapped
uselessly at the hands undressing me, first my coat, then my jeans, and then my
sweater were removed, until I was shivering in only my bra and panties. I was
wrapped in layers of blankets like a swaddled infant and scooped up into
Jason’s strong, comforting arms.

“Is it warm?” Jason shouted ahead as he carried me.

“Yeah, but not full yet,” Ky called back.

Jason’s voice echoed slightly when he said, “Go. I’ll
finish.” Within seconds he had removed and discarded my cocoon of blankets and
partially submerged me in the steaming hot water. It burned, but I savored the
feeling, grasping at the chance to be anything but freezing. The situation
didn’t make sense though—I was in the water,
its
delicious heat was lapping at my skin, yet I was still enveloped in Jason’s
iron hold.
He’s in the tub with me?

As the water level rose, Jason slid our bodies further
down in the cramped tub, submerging my entire torso. With one arm wrapped
around my waist and the other around my shoulders, he kept my face above the
water. With my head resting in the hollow between his shoulder and chest, I
watched my hands float near the water’s surface. My dim vision grew stronger
and my breaths came more easily as my core temperature increased.

“Jason,” I whispered once the water began to cool.

He tensed. “Yeah?”  

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” He relaxed, letting me melt back into him.

I eyed the two very masculine, bare knees sticking out of
the water on either side of me. “Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you…um… wearing anything?”

His chuckle vibrated against my back. “Hmmm…let me
think…I believe I left a little something on. Do you want me to fix that, Red?”
Though his words were filled with innuendo, he sounded relieved.

“I…I don’t…Can I just go to sleep? I’m so tired.” I
snuggled against him, relishing the feel of his body as my eyelids grew
heavier.

“Sleeping in a bathtub…not a great plan,” Jason said.
“Let’s get you out and dried off. Can you stand?”

Peering down at myself, I realized I was wearing only my
bra and underwear, and shyness overwhelmed me. “Maybe…will you close your eyes…
please?”

“Are you serious?” he laughed. “I just undressed you. And
it’s not like I’ve never seen you in a swimsuit.”

“Well it’s been a while!” I squeaked. “A lot changes in a
decade…”

“I’ve noticed.” He paused briefly before informing me,
“My eyes are closed.”

Carefully, I stood and stepped from the slippery tub. As
I did, I turned to watch him, to make sure he didn’t peek while I removed my
soaked undergarments and dried off. I robed myself in a thick gown of blankets,
studying the man whose quick thinking had just saved my life from…something.

What the hell was that, anyway? Death by internal
freezing?
I was quickly understanding that certain uses of my Ability
charged a high price—impromptu naps and killer headaches being the going
rate—but this had been different, more dangerous.

“Okay…you can open your eyes.”

Jason did so and stood smoothly, letting the water stream
over the enticing ridges of his body.

I spun away, my heart instantly pounding. “I’m going to
go get dressed and lay down,” I said in a high-pitched voice.

“Whatever works for you, Red,” he teased.

I hurried from the bathroom, slipped into some sweatpants
and a t-shirt, and curled up on my makeshift bed. I was out cold before Jason
emerged from the bathroom.

Date: January 1, 7:50 PM

From: Dani O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: WTF, with a big fat “Fuck”

Zo,

A crazy bitch tried to kill you, and she’s only imprisoned?
Why isn’t she dead? What did she do? This new world is crap sometimes (like,
most of the time). And that Jake guy saved your life again…hero complex, much? But
then he made a fireworks display for you...that’s kind of crazy.
Ummm
...maybe he likes you? Okay, I’ll shut up now
—
no need to hit me!!!