Malachi shrugs. “We could go soon, drive overnight.”
Cain shakes his head. “We’re all tired, and we’ve had a really crazy few days. I think we need an early night, good rest, and then we leave. I don’t want us driving when we’re so fucking shattered.”
I glance over my shoulder in the direction of the downstairs bedroom. “Daisy is already packed with some basics, and it willtake me ten minutes to do the same. I can pack for you guys too, if you want? Just some basics?”
The leader of Cain’s men shifts his weight from one foot to the other and clears his throat. “I’ll leave you guys to it. I’ll be ready for six a.m., and we can go whenever you want.”
“I’ll bang on the RV door when we’re ready to go,” Cain says. “I presume most of you guys will be in the RV, with some taking turns at guard duty?”
The man nods.
“Which leads me to my next question. Do you have any spare bivouacs or shelters for us to sleep in for the night? We’re not all going to fit in the RV if we need to camp out.”
“Already asked and answered.” Malachi laughs. “We’re all good. It seems like these guys are kitted up for the apocalypse.”
Cain smiles. “My father does like to be prepared. So, we’ll see you in the early morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
The two men stroll back to the RV, and Cain turns to me. “If we cook and sort out the weaponry we need, are you happy to pack a bag with basics for us all for a couple of nights?”
I fizz inside at the happiness of being trusted to do that, as silly as it sounds, but then the reality that while I’m packing their clothes, they’ll be packing weapons hits me.
“You won’t get yourselves hurt, will you?” I meet each of their gazes.
“Angel, we’ll do our best to stay alive. We promise you that.”
The anxiety builds in me, like bubbles in a shaken can of soda.
I just hope I don’t explode.
CHAPTER 12
Ophelia
We all callit an early night in preparation for tomorrow.
Daisy is in the room downstairs, and I’m back in bed with Roman. Cain and Mal have taken the couches. I’d thought there would have been a protest, but they’re both obviously still feeling sorry for Roman. He’s healing, but it’ll be a while before he’s back to his full strength. The pain meds he’s on are helping, but I know he doesn’t like the foggy head it gives him. I hope by the time we reach the commune, he’ll be feeling stronger.
I toss and turn, conscious that I might be keeping him awake. I know I need to sleep, and that’s the worst part. The pressure I’m putting on myself to get some rest only makes me more awake.
The bedroom door creaks open, and I jerk up.
A shape appears in the doorway, and I catch my breath. My heart slams into my ribcage. I can’t see the person’s face. They enter the room more fully, and someone else follows, their features also disguised. The idea that this is the Prophet’s men come to snatch me jumps into my head.
I open my mouth to scream, except a hand clamps over it.
“Shh,” Roman hisses against my ear. “It’s just the others.”
I exhale all the air from my lungs. Yes, it is them, but they’re wearing their masks and not much else, except for form-hugging boxers.
Cain, with his black hood covering his face, stops next to the bed. “We thought you might be struggling to sleep.” His voice is a low growl.
Malachi joins him. “We know how to help.”
They’re keeping their voices down, clearly not wanting to be heard by our guest downstairs.
My breath catches for a whole different reason. I know what the presence of the masks means. They haven’t worn them before without there being some kinky fuckery happening. A tingling anticipation, filled with pleasure, condenses between my thighs, but with it is a delicious frisson of fear that hasn’t ebbed since my initial thought that these were the Prophet’s men.
