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“What about this?” Fallon asked gruffly, finger tracing a highway near the east coast. Before he had even finished marking his desired route, Davis was already shaking his head.
“Wouldn’t work. A tsunami hit the coast a month ago. Wiped out a good chunk of homes and roads.”
Tonya sat beside her husband, though her eyes occasionally flickered towards Fallon’s ass on display in his tight-fitting jeans. Not that I blamed her. My men were fine specimens.
I wasn’t even jealous of her blatant ogling. I didn’t care that she had her eyes on him because I knewhiseyes would only ever be on me.
Despite that, I liked Tonya and her crew. Davis was quiet, the gruff protector persona reminiscent of Calax, and Jared was funny and charismatic. Tonya herself was a good companion. She had willingly given me some birth control she had collected, a morning after pill, and a box of condoms.
“Sheathe it before you reap it,” she’d said with a wicked glint to her eyes.
“I still vote we head west,” Jared interjected now, turning towards Fallon.
“Do you truly believe paradise exists?” my rough leader asked. His lips were pulled down into a tight frown.
Jared chuckled, but the sound was hollow even to me, a person who didn’t know him that well.
“You, my friend, are a pessimist.”
“Or I’m just realistic,” Fallon countered. Ryder, sitting on one of the wooden kitchen chairs, clapped his hands to garner their attention and stop their bickering.
“What’s this I hear about paradise?”
I could see the others leaning in as well, expressions varying from curious to cautious to excited. The latter was mainly worn by Ryder and Ronan.
Fallon sighed heavily.
“It's folklore. A story about a place where the storms can’t reach and Ragers can’t attack. Something that doesn’t exist.” With the last statement, he stared pointedly at Tonya, Davis, and Jared.
“People have seen it,” Davis insisted. He forked his fingers through his dark hair, nearly down to his shoulders. Jared, on the other hand, had buzzed hair, so blond it was nearly white.
Tamson leaned forward, his palms pressing down on the oak table. “Where is this supposed paradise?”
The three of them exchanged uneasy looks. Tonya shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“We actually aren’t sure.”
Asher raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. “Not sure?”
Jared once more broke in, raising his hands placatingly. “We only know what has been said at outposts.”
This time, it was me who couldn’t remain silent. “Outposts?” He had spoken as if it was capitalized, as if it was equivalent to a name or a title. As if it was supposed to be “Outpost” instead of “outpost.” Despite the normalcy of the word, goosebumps erupted on my arms and legs, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Fear skated down my spine, and I leaned further against Declan.
“There’s a dozen of them around the United States now,” Tonya explained, eyes lingering on the minuscule space between my body and Declan’s. No doubt, she wondered about the unconventional relationship between me and the others. There were six of them and one of me, but we were not shy about showing our affection. Exchanged kisses, lingering touches, cuddles on the couch.
“They were once run by the U.S. military, but now they’re more of a safe spot for travelers.” Davis took over the explanation, eyes fixated on the chipped paint of the wall. “They offer food, a place to sleep, entertainment in the form of...um...services.”
Not wanting to interrupt him, I shook Declan’s shoulder. Once I had gained his attention, I signed, “What does he mean by services?”
His cheeks went red, and my stomach dropped.
Oh.
Oh.
“You didn’t buy any of these services, did you?” I continued, hands trembling with each sign. I worried my lower lip between my teeth.
Declan’s eyes widened in horror, and he shook his head vehemently.
