One
Three weeks had passedsince we’d released the plasma cuffs to the world. So much had happened in those three weeks. The government had taken credit for working with Striker Industries on the cuffs, publicly saying it was a joint venture and they’d been the ones to suggest making them free and accessible to humanity. We’d also been waking up every night after eight to ten hours of sleep in a new country, or house, next to a different person. The ghouls were keeping us in longer. Scientists said our sleep was so deep it was akin to a bad concussion or coma. Almost as if the ghouls were trying to keep us there in desperation and we were only able to escape their hold after that long. On the plus side, humanity had never been so well rested. I no longer needed concealer to cover the bags under my eyes, but on the downside, we had to survive eight to ten hours of the Dream Wars. And not everyone had the plasma bands yet. The ghouls were freaking out; rage didn’t begin to cover what they must have beenfeeling.
The entire planet had opened its borders and suspended passport, visa or identification requirements. When you woke up in another country with no passport, how the hell were you supposed to get home? The governments were working out trade deals with the airlines to give credits to people who couldn’t afford to fly home, but if this kept up, it looked like we would just be staying in the countries we landed in. A different one every night. It was starting not to be worth it to fly back for a few hours, only to go back to sleep and then wake up somewhere new again. Jeremy and Damien were working on making a modification to the dream bands to keep the ghouls from being able to scramble us like that, but it seemed impossible at this point. Nothing they tried worked. However, we were still able to go in together and land in the Dream Wars as a group, and for that I wasgrateful.
In the past three weeks, I’d only seen Damien a handful of times. It was taking us all day to travel back to Bisbee to see each other depending on where in the world we were and where Damien’s private jet could fly to. If the ghouls wanted to inconvenience us, it wasworking.
I had just gotten off the Striker Industries jet a few hours ago, and was nowin a hired car to our shared house in Bisbee. We all agreed it was the best place to be, away from the government’s watchful eye, and near the rare mineral that powered the plasma band. Not to mention the quirky artist town had an appeal to it. Maxine and I had started taking a yoga class once a week when we were in town, and other than not having the best shopping, I was vibe-ing Bisbee hard. I could see myself settling down here. Selling the loft in LA, leaving the big-city life and buying one of these old places, fixing it up. I never thought I’d say that. I thought I was a lifer to the sound of sirens and homeless people shouting at my window at 2:00 a.m. I loved the bustling city but this town wasspecial.
“Your residence, Miss Steele,” the driversaid.
I thanked him and grabbed my backpack, exiting the car. When I looked up, I saw Damien walking out the front door in a pair of basketball shorts, no shirt and wethair.
Yum.
I wasn’t sure what we were. We’d kissed three times, and seeing him now made my knees go weak, but we hadn’t talked about it much, so I was just playing it low-key. Low and slow was my motto. It was better that way for me or I would run for the hills when my self-sabotage mechanism kickedin.
“I was lucky. I woke up this morning in Utah, next to a sweet woman named Susan,” hesaid.
I walked gingerly, not wanting to test my newly reconstructed ankle too much yet. I’d only taken the walking boot off the day before. Although I couldn’t feel the tops of my fingers in my right hand, they still moved when my brain told them to, so I was taking that as awin.
“Sleeping with other women already? Damn, I thought we would last longer,” Ijoked.
His face darkened and he took a step closer to me. “Do you want it to last longer?” His tone was deadserious.
Standing there on the street in Bisbee, half naked and dripping water, he wanted to have the ‘relationshiptalk.’
I must have waited too long to answer. He frowned and started to turnaway.
“Short answer, yes!” I told him, running to catch up and spin him around. When he turned, he was wearing a devastating smile, dimple andall.
“And what’s the long answer, freckles?” he asked, trailing his finger over my nose and the freckles that laythere.
His touch. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until it wasthere.
Long answer is I want to see you naked right now, but I’m scared of getting my heart broken. But naked… I need to seeit.
“Long answer is… to be honest….” Oh God, what was the long answer? Why couldn’t I be normal? Emotionally normal and say ‘yes, I want it to last super long and maybe forever.’ “To be honest, I feel emotionally broken, and I get scared when things get serious because I don’t want to fall in love with you, and then mourn you at your funeral when the ghouls kill you,” I said in a rush, then slapped a hand over mymouth.
Diarrhea of the mouth. That wasme.
He shook his head and then snaked a hand out and pulled me into his body. I dropped my backpack and let myself go limp as he pressed my hips into his pelvis. “Oh, Kit. We’re on step one and you’re on step ten. Get out of your head and live a little. It’s nice outhere.”
I chuckled at that. It sounded like something Maxine wouldsay.
Damien was good forme.
“I missed you,” I admittedsheepishly.
His hand trailed up my back, slipping under my shirt, and then he leaned in and kissed my neck. His warm lips on my neck made me melt.Where am I? What was I saying?I didn’t know. I just knew that I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of sleeping with this beautiful man, and I was beyond ready for that day tocome.
“How’s Jeremy?” I asked, suddenly rememberinghim.
Damien pulled away at thequestion.
We’d been having some major issues with Damien’s autistic brother. Although he was much more on the mild end of the spectrum and could communicate and express his brilliant ideas, his social skills and ability to deal with change were seriously lacking. When he woke up alone, next to a stranger in a foreign country, he either freaked out and started screaming and running, or he went into shock and wouldn’t speak to anyone. Damien had been forced to pin a laminated sign to his chest stating the situation, including his phone number for the strangers to call. It was heartbreaking. I wanted to keep him safe and make sure nothing stressed him out, but that was impossible with what the ghouls were doing tous.
“He’s retreating into his shell. The selective mutism is getting worse and carrying over into the waking hours. He can’t deal with the constant change, and I don’t know how to fix it,” Damien admitted, lookingpained.
