Shit. She'd appeared again—finally.
My heart rate sped as I watched her from the rooftop of the building opposite hers. I usually kept an eye on her from one of the offices inside, but when she didn't show at her usual time, I grabbed a chair and rolled it out onto the roof, setting up my vantage point near the boundary wall. Two hours later, I was still sitting here like an idiot waiting to see her.
She emerged at seven every day, and when seven o'clock came and went with no sign of her, I wondered if something happened while I wasn't around. For someone I'd never met, thinking about her being hurt or worse had a surprising impact, and I stared at her building with a focus that would have had me arrested back in the day. The only thing that stopped me from climbing up to her apartment to check on her was having seen her in action other times and knowing her capabilities—and I had no interest in meeting the pointy end of her sword.
The woman stepped out onto her balcony just like she had every other time, her movements graceful, her head turning to take in her surroundings. She commanded my attention for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons, and every time I set eyes on her again, I felt like my favourite show had just started. The masculine side of me wanted to approach her a while ago, but my goal from the beginning had been to ease into it so I wouldn't scare her off. Women on their own had more reasons than ever to keep to themselves now, and she was smart to stay away until she felt safe around me.
She stood stock still on her balcony, watching, listening. I'd started tracking her several days before I put myself on her radar for the first time, and she was sprinting so fast it was obvious she'd kept up with her cardio. Smart. She ran the streets like she knew every single nook and cranny, making me think she'd been living here a long time. Probably before the world crashed and burned.
I wondered where her people were and why she kept heading out alone.
Once she was satisfied there were no dangers in the area, she climbed down the rope ladder and dropped to the balcony below hers. Normally, I would have already been on ground level waiting to play games with her, but today I stayed in position. With our usual routine interrupted, I wanted to see what she'd do next.
The sword on her belt made her look like a badass, and she had a slim, strong body, with dark hair that went to the middle of her back in a braid. I hadn't seen her up close to know the colour of her eyes, but she looked to be around five-eight, with long legs and a confident, capable vibe—the kind of woman who'd figured out how to exist in a world without any rules.
I rested my elbows on my knees and followed her movements. She disappeared inside the room below hers, and pretty soon she'd come out through the ground-floor exit. The door faced north, so I couldn’t see her from the rooftop, but a minute or so later, she appeared around the corner with her usual caution, taking a beat to scan the area before she sprinted across the road in my direction. My heart pumped harder as I watched her run, taking in her smooth style despite the weight of her backpack and the weapons on her belt.
She was coming to see me again.
She hadn't even tilted her head to let me know she'd seen me up here on the roof, but I had no doubt she knew exactly where to find me.
Three days ago, she brought me coffee and disappeared straight afterwards. Today she looked all business, and my pulse jumped at the thought of speaking to her face-to-face. I could have headed down to one of the lower levels to make it quicker for her to get to me, but I had a feeling she’d appreciate the space on the rooftop.
The main doors were unlocked and undamaged, the stairs clear of corpses. A few of the dead were wandering around on different levels, but I’d avoided them or put them down as I passed through each floor searching for food.
I’d been sleeping on the leather couch in a lawyer’s office while I worked on getting closer to the woman, but I'd about reached my limits there. I needed a real bed in a secure home, somewhere rural and permanent; a property off the main roads to grow food and a future. It was the main reason I'd travelled from my home on the Victorian south coast to the city in the first place. I wanted to find people who shared my vision—or people who could at least be convinced to give it a try.
I dipped my hand into my backpack and pulled out the unopened bag of Skittles I’d found in a desk drawer. They were a year past their use-by date, but I ripped the pack open and tossed a couple in my mouth, sucking on the coating while I waited to see how long it would take for her to reach me. The thought of looking at her up close, listening to her voice, and feeling her presence, had anticipation humming inside me, and I forced down the urge to go inside and meet her halfway.
I blew the stripped Skittles from my mouth one by one, aiming for an old metal bucket near the wall and listening to them ping as they hit the rim. I’d spent the past few days thinking about how our first conversation might go, and after running through various strategies, I'd settled on letting it flow naturally so it wouldn't come off as calculated. I didn't want her to have any reason to take backward steps when she'd been brave enough to approach me first.
As I reached into the bag again, the air around me shifted and changed. My body stilled, and I waited.
She was here.
I had no idea how I knew. She hadn’t spoken, and if she’d made any noise coming through the propped-open door to the rooftop, it must have been while I was rummaging around in the bag. I’d become attuned to her now without ever having spoken to her. Her movements, her energy. It was a strange feeling after spending so much time alone.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I said without turning around.
“Thanks for the chocolate.”
Her smooth, feminine voice had the hairs rising on my forearms, soft and breathless from her run up the stairs. I hadn’t heard a woman speak in a while. It sounded so good that I wanted to keep asking her questions just to listen to her talk. “Did you see me from your apartment just now?” I asked, already sure of the answer.
“Uh huh, like an evil overlord surveying his subjects.”
“Evil, huh?” With a smile, I kicked off the wall and spun my chair to face her. I remained seated to avoid scaring her off, but after watching her for over a week, I had a feeling it would take more than that to intimidate her.
When I saw her up close for the first time—here, right in front of me—the attraction hit me like a punch to the gut and I pulled in a breath. She was seriously beautiful, with a petite nose, full lips, and intelligent blue eyes. She wore a beaten-up pair of boots, cargo pants, and a black, form-fitting tee that made it difficult for me to keep my eyes on hers at first. Looking at her brought the Tomb Raider to mind, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to tussle with her or protect her from all the shit life could throw at you these days.
“Cruz Murphy,” I said, holding her gaze. "Good to meet you."
She looked me over, giving me a slight smile that softened her features. I knew what she was thinking because I’d seen the expression a few times. How did a guy like me—black hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and a first name like Cruz—end up with the surname Murphy? “My mother's side was Mexican, my father's Irish,” I explained. “Cruz was her maiden name.”
Everything once familiar had become past tense now. Both my parents were gone. My brother, Diego, too. The memories of my family were still so strong that if I gave in and allowed myself to reminisce about them, it made me feel hopeless about the future and determined to make it better at the same time.
“Do you know Spanish?” she asked. "You have the slightest accent." She straightened her shoulders as if just remembering not to let her guard down around a stranger. I understood where she was coming from, though. I hadn’t felt this at ease around someone new since this whole shitshow started.
I gave her a quick closed-mouth smile. “My mother's influence. We always speak—spoke—the language at home. My dad had to learn it too, so he wouldn't get left out of conversations."
