As the warm water rains down on our naked bodies, it’s impossible for me not to think back to the time when I was forced into this shower with Xavier. My mind flashes through the memories of what I did to him in here and what he did to me.

  And what he forced my brother to do to me.

  A wave of fear threatens to rise up within me, but it’s quelled immediately by Silas’ complete loss of control. He presses me up against the glass wall of the shower and drives his cock into me as deep as it will go. He’s groaning and growling with each thrust inside me, prompting moans of pain and pleasure from my lips.

  His movements quicken. His breathing becomes erratic. It becomes too intoxicating to watch him give in to his primal need to fuck me, and with just a few more of his rapid thrusts, I’m brought to orgasm again.

  When I cry out and tighten myself around his cock, he lets out his own blissful cry at his moment of climax and releases himself inside me. His thrusts peak in depth when his body stiffens and then loosens repeatedly until he finally comes back down to reality.

  He pulls me off of the wall of the shower, but continues to hold me against him even after his cock slips out of me. We remain connected under the falling water for a long moment, not wanting to leave the tiny space of pleasure, safety, and love that we just created together.

  “I failed you,” he whispers against me.

  I shake my head before verbalizing my response to his claim. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I couldn’t find the pills I was looking for. I left you here for days when I should have been by your side, and I brought back nothing.”

  “You’re back,” I counter. “That’s all that matters. You made it back to me.”

  I feel his arms tighten around me even more, gripping me desperately. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits fearfully. “What happens if—”

  “Don’t,” I interrupt to stop his train of thought. “Don’t worry about that right now.” I turn my head enough to kiss the side of his cheek. “We’re going to be okay, no matter what happens.”

  We’re going to be okay.

  25

  As hot as it has been over the last couple of weeks, I still find myself enjoying these moments lying out on the grass in the full sunshine. Beads of sweat drip down my hairline from letting my body bake in the summer sun, but the warm rays feel invigorating against my skin.

  The occasional breeze sweeping over me and the open air all around me are the additional reminders of my precious freedom. I’m no longer locked away inside my own home kept at the end of a short leash by a sadistic madman. I don’t have to live in fear that my family could be destroyed right in front of my eyes at any moment. Life has returned to normal since we overcame our captors.

  For the most part.

  I hear footsteps approaching in the grass nearby, though I make no move to see who it is. Silas doesn’t let me stay unaccompanied outside the fence line of the property for long when I seek my moments of solitude out here, so I know the short time he’s allowed me to be alone is now up.

  He stops just before reaching me, towering over me like part of the forest all around us. He’s just as still and silent as the trees for a long moment before he finally lowers himself to the grass, sitting cross-legged next to me.

  After taking one final fully relaxed breath, I turn my gaze away from the bright, endless blue sky above and look into Silas’ dark, concerned eyes instead. I manage a meager smile for him, but it does nothing to diminish the worried look on his face.

  He glances away from me briefly, and when his eyes return to mine, I see the question in his expression that might as well be written all over his face in black marker. He knows that I don’t like it when he asks me this question because it only makes me think more about what I did and the potential consequences of my actions, but I know he can’t help wondering about the answer and how it will affect the rest of our lives.

  I shake my head back and forth in a small movement to let him know that my period still hasn’t started yet. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the pain he’s experiencing at this reality practically radiating from him. My heart aches within my chest to see him like this, to know that I’ve caused him this pain by making a decision that affects both of us, but that was solely my choice.

  To know that somewhere deep inside of me, part of me really wanted to take the path I chose.

  “Silas,” I manage to whisper before my throat tightens painfully with the emotion sweeping over me. “I think subconsciously I wanted to see if it would work this time. Even after what I did with Joseph, and even though I know that was a huge mistake, I still chose to do it again.”

  Silas reaches for the side of my face, cupping my cheek with his palm for a moment before running his fingers gently through my hair. “You want to be a mother. No one can fault you for that.”

  “But how can I be a mother to Xavier’s child?” I ask through the silent tears now streaming down my face. My body suddenly cringes at the memories of Xavier creeping up to the surface of my mind, reminding me just how twisted he really was.

  Silas’ hand moves to my arm, rubbing it slowly up and down the skin to warm the dark chill that briefly overcame me. He’s quiet and contemplative while he does this until finally tells me, “You can’t fault a child for its DNA.” The movement of his hand on me stops, and his eyes meet mine. “You know that our child would have had a father with just as much darkness inside him as Xavier.”

  I immediately shake my head, refusing to believe Silas’ words. “You kill to protect yourself and the people you love. That’s self-defense.”

  “Killing with no remorse? That’s darkness,” he counters. “That’s pure brutality and violence.”

  “But not senseless violence,” I shoot back, though my voice wavers with my surging emotions over how strongly I feel about this subject. “Everything Xavier did to me—did to us—was all senseless violence. Your actions have always had a purpose.”

  Silas’ discomfort with this conversation becomes clear as he moves his hands to the grass in an attempt to push himself back up to his feet. I manage to catch his arm and pull him back with both of my hands so that he can’t get away from me.

  Even when he’s seated on the grass again, I keep pulling on his arm, coaxing him to lie down next to me. He resists at first, but finally complies, settling down on the grass close enough that his shoulder touches mine. Our hands seem to automatically find each other and connect us as we lie here together.

  We’re both quiet for a few minutes. I expect that Silas is feeling as overwhelmed by the rush of memories—both good and bad—as I am, and I don’t want to stir up his emotions any more than I already have. I let him have his time to relax and think.

  Suddenly readjusting to his side facing me, Silas props his head up with his hand and elbow and places his other hand gently on my shirt over the area of my heart. He begins tracing lines across the top of my chest, his fingers leaving the fabric of my shirt to touch my skin directly where it’s visible from my low-cut, V-neck top. His soft touch feels like whispers upon my skin, both soothing and sensual.

  When his fingers dip under the edge of the V-neck to find my breast, I feel the quick pooling of heat between my legs. He grasps me in his palm while watching the transformation of my face into a pleased smile.

  “You should stop,” I breathe out, not truly meaning those three words, but knowing I should say them before we get too carried away. “You know what’s going to happen if you don’t stop.”

  His playful smile only broadens. “I don’t want to stop. You don’t want me to, either.”

  He pinches my nipple, causing me to let out a small yelp that makes it perfectly clear that my body has no desire for him to stop.

  “What about Joseph and Jake?” I ask breathlessly at the same time Silas pulls my shirt up and over my head.

  Silas laughs before sitting up on his knees and removing his own shirt, his chest and abs glistening in the sunshine above me. “I already told them to stay in the house.”

  He maneuvers his body over my lower half while he works my shorts and underwear down my legs, leaving me completely exposed to the open air. I see his hesitation just before he glances back up my naked body, and the heated desire in his expression suddenly sparks a wildfire.

  When he has removed the rest of his clothes and settled back over me, there’s no more foreplay and no hesitation. He spreads my legs, lifts his cock, and plunges it deep inside me until there is no more space for him to fill. He quickly grabs my shoulders to steady himself and then thrusts into me repeatedly, causing my breasts to bounce wildly up and down with each movement of his body into me.

  He suddenly withdraws, causing a gasp to escape my lips as he flips me over to my hands and knees on the grass. His wet cock presses against my opening, and he enters me again.

  His hands grasp my hips this time, pulling me back toward him at each thrust to more fully connect us. His cock hits me in just the right place in this position, causing me to immediately start breathing out moans of pleasure that grow louder the longer he works himself inside me.

  I can feel myself on the edge of orgasm when he pulls out of me again, leaving me breathless with disappointment as he lies down and pulls my leg over his midsection until I’m straddling him. His hands find my hips and lift me just enough to drop me down on his cock, and he slides into me again.

  After encouraging me up and down on him a few times, his hands move away from my hips to find my breasts instead. He grasps them in each of his hands and caresses them while I take him in and out of me slowly and more deliberately than he was fucking me before.

  I’m completely relaxed and enjoying myself until I become aware of my position, and suddenly my body freezes.

  “It’s me, Ash,” Silas says calmly as his hand finds the side of my face. “It’s only me here. It’s only ever going to be me going forward.”

  I look down and find some comfort in seeing Silas’ loving face beneath me, but it’s not enough to get me past the difficulty of being in this position on a man again: fully giving myself to him, ready to let his seed spread within me.

  When I pop off of Silas and sit down on the grass next to him, he turns his head to look at my face but doesn’t otherwise move his naked body as he says playfully, “You’re going to want to continue what you were doing.”

  My head automatically shakes in response. “I can’t.”

  Silas only smiles at me. “You’ll want to.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but stop when I see him nod over toward something behind me. As I turn my head, I’m terrified at what it could be, but become perplexed when I only see my discarded pile of clothes on the dirt.

  I remain confused about what Silas is referring to until I finally see it. I throw my hand to my mouth to stop the sob that wants to escape me.

  There’s spotting on my underwear. My monthly cycle has begun.

  I’m not pregnant with Xavier’s child.

  Tears are falling down my cheeks, even before I look back at Silas’ grinning face. His smile suddenly becomes contagious and takes over my entire expression to the point that I start to laugh.

  I throw myself down to him in my elation, connecting my chest with his while I take his head between my hands and kiss all parts of his face. His hardened cock makes its presence known again, rubbing up against my leg, and I know that he was right that I want more than anything to get back to what I was just doing with him.

  My relentless barrage of kisses continues while I settle back over his lower body and take him inside me again. The relief and love pulsing through me this time have me wild with desire, causing me to lose all control in my primal movements with him.

  Despite how close I’ve been to Silas, I’ve never given myself to him so fully before. It only amplifies the feeling when my climax hits and my orgasm consumes me. I let go of all of my worry and pain to enjoy this moment as the man I love groans loudly and releases inside me, reciprocating my love for him with each movement of his hands over my skin and his lips over mine.

  When it’s over, we’re both breathing hard with the effort it takes to get enough oxygen into our bodies after our exertions. I collapse next to Silas on the grass and let him pull me into his arms. His chest is warm and dotted with sweat. I know that my skin is probably a similar temperature and sheen.

  “We’re going to be okay,” Silas says after a long moment, repeating the words I said to him on the day he came back to the house after failing to find a morning-after pill for me.

  “We’re going to be okay,” I agree, truly believing my words this time.

  26

  It’s hard to remember what this feels like: being out in the open world with Silas, letting the whirlwind of air rush through the interior of our black extended cab truck, keeping my eyes constantly fixed out of the open windows for any signs of a threat. Our year and a half of self-imposed exile has made everything outside of our secluded home in the mountains seem almost completely foreign to me.

  I remember the overwhelming fear, though. I remember the feeling of my terrified heart pounding within me, warning me to be wary of the dangers of being exposed out in the open like this. I remember the vulnerability and helplessness that come with taking risks out here, even though now I’m much better equipped to defend myself and others than I was back when Silas first brought me out into the broken world with him.

  My fears appear to be unfounded, though. There’s nothing out here, no one to pose a threat to us.

  The remnants of society appear to have vacated central Vermont.

  “There’s nothing left out here,” I say quietly, unsure if I’m relieved or terrified to acknowledge such a truth.

  We speed past a quaint ranch-style home located close to the road. Its front door is ajar, but the house otherwise appears to be untouched by the self-destruction of society. I used to look at such a home for signs of life inside, some small part of me hoping that the person or family who lived there might still be fighting to stay alive. Now I see the home as an oversized coffin, and I wonder how many bodies might be forever laid to rest inside it.

  Then I think of our own home tucked away in the mountains and how we might all just wither away inside it just the same, leaving nothing behind to live on in this world.

  A small, wet impact on my jeans alerts me to the tears dripping silently from my eyes. I quickly brush them away with the top of my hand, but not before Silas catches sight of them.

  His hand finds the top of my thigh, settling over the wet spot where the teardrop landed. His touch soothes me as I take a deep breath to regain control of my emotions. I can’t go on our first supply run in a year and a half distracted and overwhelmed by these morbid thoughts.

  “I can take you home,” Silas offers while proceeding to slow down the truck and veer it onto the shoulder in preparation for a U-turn. “You know that Joseph was more than willing to come with me instead.”

  “No,” I decline firmly. “I want to be here with you, and I need to get used to this again.”

  Silas doesn’t argue with me. He straightens the vehicle out onto the road and resumes his prior speed without a word.

  Though I’ve already explained myself enough, my thoughts linger on the reasons why I’m actually out here when I still feel emotionally and physically unprepared to face the dusty, skeletal remains of the outside world again.

  “I think I need some time away from the house,” I admit softly. “The memories are too vivid right now. The images of what happened there just won’t fade away.”

  Sadness and disappointment pool inside me at the realization that I still haven’t gotten over what happened to me and my family in our time under Xavier’s control.

  Silas maintains an emotionless expression as he keeps his gaze forward, perfectly focused on the road ahead of us. Minutes pass, and he doesn’t speak to me, fueling my worry that I’ve upset him with my admission that our refuge in the mountains has been tainted by recent events.

  “I’ll do whatever you need me to,” Silas finally responds with as much love and determination in his voice as I’ve ever heard. “Tell me what you need, and it’s yours.”

  My face forms a smile just long enough for tears to pool in my eyes again. I stare out of the window at a row of abandoned vehicles just off the side of the road up ahead and make my impossible request of Silas. “I need something to look forward to.”

  As we pass by the discarded line of cars I was observing, I feel Silas’ hand sneak into mine. His touch is gentle against the healing skin of my palm where Xavier sliced me open, but it provides enough support to ease my tears away.

  Our hands remain connected for the rest of the drive to our first destination. Silas decelerates the truck to a stop a short distance from the driveway entrance to an old brown farmhouse and large barn in a clearing up ahead. The front door is missing from the house, and there aren’t any vehicles in the driveway, promising signs that the property is abandoned and safe for us to search.

  When we’re armed with a rifle for Silas and a handgun for me with extra ammo for each of us, we maneuver our way for a side approach to the house, using the sparse but large trees in the yard for cover to get closer to the open front entrance.

  Silas takes lead and silently moves up the steps to look inside the home with his rifle barrel trained forward while I keep watch for any movement outside. When Silas motions for me to follow him, I quietly step through the threshold and join him.

  My first impression is that we’re not going to find anything in here. No people. No food. No tools or weapons. The farmhouse has clearly been ransacked already and left in a state of complete disarray. The living room is a chaotic mess of toppled furniture and broken glass. The kitchen floors are covered in discarded trash, and the open cabinets reveal only bare shelves. The bedrooms upstairs are just as messy as the first floor, containing only clothes and personal belongings, nothing we’re looking for.