“Can we go with him to feed the cats tomorrow, Momma?”
Addison sighs. “Maybe. Now go get ready for bed. It’s getting dark.”
Reluctantly, Emma leaves the window and disappears down the hall.
Wyatt’s the next to vanish in the opposite direction with a mumbled comment about being tired before she can tell him goodnight.
Addison isn’t sure what to think about him. All she knows for certain is that he’s been too kind. Offered shelter, food, and hunting lessons. None of that comes for free. The world didn’t work that way before it all went downhill. Not that she’s got a solid grasp on what used to happen outside the compound walls. She’s fairly certain men are the same regardless of location, though.
They both know she has nothing to offer except herself, and she’s decided she isn’t going to wait around for him to make a move. The deal they made earlier might be hindering his original plan if he’s true to his word. Being too eager to get in her pants would ensure she pulls that trigger when the time comes, which means the minute she fails to do so…she’s fair game.
On the flip side, he could spring it on her tomorrow as a way to win her over and play it off like he’s truly interested.
She needs to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. If that means she offers her body as payment to avoid having that payment taken later, then so be it.
At least she can distract him from Emma if she’s keeping him busy. Never mind that Wyatt hasn’t given her a single reason to jump to such conclusions. He is guilty until proven innocent as far as she’s concerned. To think otherwise would be dangerous.
One thing she’s learned about the apocalypse is that people operate in predictable ways. First comes panic, and then comes sex.
She can’t count how often she had to shield Emma’s eyes from the sight of people going at it like animals out in the open on their way here.
The couple in the diner off the freeway. The woman bent over the table in front of glass windows while the man behind her yanked a fistful of her blonde hair back.
The couple in the alley up against the dirty walls, blood from some earlier scuffle coating their skin.
The group in the gas station, having an orgy right in front of the expired milk.
In between death and chaos, every quiet space has been filled with people trying to find meaning for their last days on earth. She’s waiting for Wyatt to make it clear that she owes him for allowing them to remain in this house, and that he intends to fuck her like it’s his last day alive, too.
If she offers first, then she could convince herself it’s her choice. Just like she convinced herself, it was her choice every time Vincent pushed himself between her legs, trying to get a head start on repopulating the earth from the very first night they said their vows. That has always been the mission, after all. She was raised to bring forth a new generation once the current one was cleansed from the planet, and no one ever let her forget it.
Being pregnant and throwing up every five minutes might be a turnoff for Wyatt, but there’s not much she can do about that.
He told her that there’s no one waiting for him left alive, and if he’s still grieving, that might put the odds in her favor if she can offer him a distraction. That line of thinking sounds twisted even in her head, and briefly, she reconsiders. Maybe giving it another day or two would be smarter before jumping to conclusions.
Her bravery might crumble before then, though. She must harness it before it slips through her fingers.
She stops at Emma’s room first, needing to make sure she’s settled before following through on her plan.
“Can we trust him?” Emma asks, at the bedroom window, looking for the cat again.
“I think it’s smart to be cautious until we all know each other better.” Addison points to the bed. “In. The cat will be there tomorrow.”
“He likes cats. That’s good, right? People who like animals can’t be bad?”
She smiles. “He does, and there’s some truth to that theory, but we can’t know for sure.”
“He shared his food with us.”
They just met, and her daughter is already trying to latch onto this stranger. It only highlights how starved she’s been for attention when her own father rarely offered her a sentence that didn’t come covered in annoyance or anger. “I want you to listen to me, okay? We have to be smart, and that means we trust no one but each other until they prove to us that it’s safe to do so. Understand?”
Emma nods. “What if Dad comes back and hurts him? He won’t be happy someone else is here.”
“Wyatt can take care of himself. I wouldn’t worry about that.” She tugs the blanket up higher, pressing a kiss to Emma’s forehead before blowing a raspberry into her neck until she laughs. “Now go to sleep.”
“Can I help tomorrow when you work on the fence?”
“Not yet.”
