"Sorry." Kane sat at the long table with a plate, a fork, a massive piece of cake, and one hell of a smile. "You know, Shepherd made this, from scratch." He waved the fork. "He said it was for the team." Kane carved off another bite. "Last time I checked, I'm on the team. Even if I'm the one who can't do anything useful."
"You're healing. That's useful." Gideon grabbed a plate from the cabinet and cut himself a generous slice. He'd eaten dinner. And then he’d had a second serving. His dad had always referred to him as the human garbage can, and that wasn’t too far from the truth.
He sat down across from Kane and dug in. His mom used to make him homemade chocolate cake with vanilla frosting every year on his birthday. It was the best cake ever. Nothing else came close. But Gideon had to admit the sugar swirling around in his mouth reminded him of home.
"How's the planning going?" Kane asked.
"We're as ready as we're going to be."
"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"It's an honest one."
Zadie appeared in the doorway in bare feet and one of Gideon's shirts, which she'd started stealing without permission and he'd stopped caring about entirely. She spotted the cake, made a sound that was closer to worship than language, and went straight for the counter.
"God, I love Shepherd’s cake."
"Isn’t that supposed to be pie?" Kane laughed.
"I love that too, but no one in this bunker knows how to make that dish like my dad used to." She dropped into the chair beside Gideon, tucked one leg beneath her, and took a bite that left chocolate on her lower lip.
Gideon watched her tongue catch it. He could stare at her all night and never get bored.
"I’ve tried, and it ends up more like mashed mush with soggy corn and burnt meat." She took another bite, closed her eyes, and groaned. "Almost as good as sex."
Gideon coughed.
Kane chuckled as if he knew— which he probably did. There were no secrets in this place. And that, Gideon had to admit, was part of the charm. However, he didn't need that part of his life plastered on a billboard.
"How have you been feeling?" Zadie asked.
Kane set down his fork. "Darwin told me today I need more tests. Things he can't run here, so I’m going to need to go back to the spinal institute."
It seems you don’t enjoy going there," Gideon said.
"It’s not that." Kane dragged his thumb along the edge of his plate. "It means someone on the team has to drive me there and back. It means exposure, and I’m safer here. We’re all safer in this bunker."
"That may be true, but you need medical treatment, and Darwin can’t provide everything here." Zadie cocked her head and glared.
Kane pushed the plate forward an inch. "I don't want to be the reason someone else gets hurt."
Gideon rubbed the center of his chest. It had been a long time since he'd been at the center of anything he could describe as… family.
"We do what we have to do. If the tables were turned, you’d make that drive without blinking," Zadie said.
"Doesn't mean I have to like you doing it."
"I’ve always hated having people take care of me." Gideon polished off his last bite of cake. As he swallowed, an image of his mother from when he'd been a small boy, rose in his mind. He’d been maybe six or seven and had fallen off his bicycle and scraped his knee. He'd tried to be brave and take care of the cut himself. But, there was nothing like having his mother wrap her arms around him and ruffle his hair.
This wasn't the same, however, the idea of having people in his corner was. "But the alternative means you have no one. I’m learning I’d rather deal with my pride being injured than being totally alone again."
"I agree," Kane said. "But that’s not going to stop me from complaining about it."
"Of course not." Zadie stood. She groaned and grabbed the edge of the table.
"Sit down. I’ll take care of those," Gideon said.
"I’m fine." She gathered the plates. "It’s good for me to move and stretch."
