Emma: Part Two (3 page)

"Agreed," Max replied.

Rafe nodded and whistled to gather his men. Butler hesitated and put a hand on Max's shoulder. "She'll come around, Max. They always do."

He wasn’t so sure about that. Emma had a stubborn streak in her a mile wide. To survive all these years alone in the Outlands? She had needed it. Now she had the chance to build a new life with two men who wanted to love and support and provide for her. Would she swallow her pride and break through that stubbornness to accept it? Max honestly didn’t’ know.

As the Zed team faded away into the darkness, Max addressed the lieutenant waiting for orders. “Round up these bodies and start digging pits. We've got a lot of meat to burn."

"Yes, sir."

Max turned around and scanned for Jack and Emma. They were arguing off in the distance. Apparently Jack wasn't faring any better than he had. In a perverse sort of way it made him feel better. At least they were both on her shit list together.

His jaw tightened with embarrassment as he remembered the way she had spoken to him in front of the men. That story would spread like wildfire. He had a reputation as a hard ass who didn't take shit off anyone yet he had stood there and allowed Emma to tell him off. The Outpost rumor mill was going to eat that right up.

If she had been anyone else, he would have dressed her right down with a royal ass chewing for insubordination, but he couldn't bring himself to yell at Emma. She was hurting and had lashed out at him in her pain. It didn't make it right, and the things she had alleged were untrue, but there wasn't much he could do. He sensed that approaching her now would only make things worse. He vowed to give her a few hours to cool down.

Because she had been right about one thing. Now that her house was gone and her fence destroyed, Emma had no choice but to come with them. Even if that meant tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her kicking and screaming back with him.

2
Chapter Two

Jack stepped over a charred wooden board as he made his way toward Emma. Her tiny slumped form sat near the smoking ruins of her home. The sun had risen a few hours earlier and provided the light she needed to sift through what was left of her life.

After the way she had berated Max, Jack had given her a wide berth rather than risk riling her up again. He wanted to help her just as badly as Max did but they couldn't relate to her. They had never had homes like this, never had families or family ties. He and all the other cyborgs had been lab created and raised in military housing from birth. Only in recent years, with the end of the Last War and the suppression of the zombies, had cyborgs been able to flirt with the idea of a more human existence filled with families and homes and all the other things they had been created to preserve.

Jack's belly twisted at the sight of Emma's shoulders shaking. Her broken sobs tore at him. He approached her carefully, as one might a wounded animal, and crouched down at her side. Soot and dirt caked her skin. There was a pile of slightly burned and untouched things between her right thigh and the backpack she had been wearing when they fled.

Exhaling loudly, Jack slid down onto his butt and put his arm around her shoulders. Her gaze was fixed forward on the steaming pile of wood and glass and tile in front of her. He pressed a kiss to her temple. She didn’t fight him this time. He sensed all the fight had left her body. Broken and weary, she sagged against him. Like he and Max, Emma hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. The hell the three of them had survived over the last day was starting to take its toll.

"I'm sorry, Emma." It was a simple thing and didn't come close to erasing her hurt but it was the best he could do.

"Whatever," Emma replied, her voice scratchy. She wiped at the wet streaks on her cheeks but made a mess of her skin, smearing soot and dirt under her fingertips. "It's done. You two win."

"Emma," Jack said as he gently shifted her in his arms and gazed into her beautiful green eyes. "This isn't about winning. I know it probably makes you feel better to turn your pain into rage and direct it at us but that's not right. Max didn't order this. The pilots felt they had no other choice but to fire on the house. They were authorized to use any force necessary and they made a judgment call. Obviously, they feel badly for destroying your home but there was no other choice."

Emma didn't say anything but dropped her gaze to the ground. She pulled away from his embrace and reached for the small pile of items she'd scavenged from the house. A plate, two books, a necklace and some random knickknacks. Jack's heart ached at the meager belongings she had been able to save. He didn’t even know where to find paperbacks to replace the ones she had lost. Everything they read on the Outpost was part of the digital library database.

"Do you want me to help you search some more, Emma? I can withstand the heat better than you can."

She shook her hand and unzipped her backpack. "I've got the most important things in here already." She started placing the scavenged items into her bag. "I keep an emergency backpack with all the keepsakes that mean something to me by my bed. I never thought I'd actually need to use it."

She stopped stuffing things into her bag and frowned. Her hand dipped inside and fished out another pair of smaller grenades than the ones she had given Max up on the roof. "Oh! Whoops. Forgot about these."

Jack's eyes widened as she handed over the explosives. "You had those rattling around in your backpack all night? Shit, Emma." He snatched them from her hands and rose quickly. "Corporal!" He shouted at the nearest soldier. "Take these and secure them."

The corporal carefully took them from Jack's palm. "Yes, sir."

Shaking his head, Jack returned to Emma. She had risen to her feet and lifted her backpack onto her shoulders. Her handheld radio was clipped to the waistband of her now dirty shorts.

The defeated expression on her face made Jack feel helpless. He had wanted things to go so differently. He had wanted her to choose life on the Outpost, to be excited and happy about starting a new chapter in her life with them but this? This was a disaster.

"Are we leaving soon?" She sounded resigned and about as excited as someone waiting to go in for a root canal.

He nodded. "Soon."

"Whatever."

Jack tried not to let her annoyed reply grate on her nerves.
She's been through hell
, he reminded himself.
Cut her some slack
.

"Emma,"—he touched her arm—"it's going to be okay. I know this isn't easy for you, and I hate that your home is gone, but Max and I are going to take care of you."

She glared at his hand. "I don't want someone to take care of me, Jack. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Are you, Emma? What if you'd been alone last night?"

She swallowed hard and glanced away. "I'd have been dead meat."

"Exactly," Jack replied. "Look, I don't like pointing out the obvious, but it is what it is, Emma. You've survived worse. You lost your mother and your father and you gritted your teeth and pushed through, Emma." He squeezed her shoulder. "You'll get through this. We're going to help you."

Her lower lip wobbled, and Jack couldn't take it anymore. He hauled her into his arms and tucked her face against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the smell of lavender and smoke and sweat. The thought that he could have lost her made him ill. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

"I'm scared," she admitted finally, her voice slightly muffled by his arm. "I don't like being scared. I don't like new things."

He clasped her face and brushed his thumbs over her sooty cheeks. "Don't be afraid, Emma. The Outpost is a nice place to live. It's safe. We have grocery stores and restaurants and a library and a hospital. You can even work, if you'd like."

She perked up at that tidbit. "I can?"

Jack smiled, realizing part of her hesitance centered on her fear of not contributing. "Yes, Emma. I'm sure we can find a job that fits your skillset. Unless, of course," he grinned slyly, "you'd rather play the part of kept woman."

Emma snorted and smiled for the first time in hours. "Tempting."

"If anyone deserves to be kept, it's you, Emma." Jack didn't care that the men were looking on or that, technically, he wasn't supposed to show any emotion in uniform. He would deal with the repercussions when they got back on base, the same way Max would. Right now, all he cared about was Emma and she needed to be comforted.

Jack teased his mouth over hers, ignoring the bitter taste of ash clinging to her lips. She was alive and willingly in his arms. He couldn't ask for more than that.

Emma clutched at his chest, her desperate need for touch and reassurance overwhelming her. Jack's tongue dipped between her lips as he kissed her with the same urgency she displayed. His thoughts returned to the wild lovemaking they had shared with Max. He had experienced such a connection to Emma and wanted to nurture it, to watch it grow into a real relationship.

Jack eased his mouth from Emma's and smiled down at her. He gathered her loose hair in one hand and stroked her face with the other. "Better?"

She nodded and offered a small smile. "A little. More of that kissing would help."

He laughed and pecked her forehead. "Later, Emma. I promise Max and I will make all this up to you."

"Max," she whispered, her face screwing up in distress. "God, I spoke so awfully to him."

"He's tough. He'll get over it." Jack traced her lower lip. "Believe me, he's heard worse."

"Still," Emma said, her voice soft. "It was wrong of me to lash out at him like that and accuse him of burning down my house."

"So tell him that," Jack replied matter-of-factly.

"I will."

Glad they had made it through their first argument, Jack guided Emma away from her home and toward the slowly gathering group of men. They were streaming in from the pits they had dug overnight to incinerate the zombie bodies. Max had put them to work downwind from the house, sparing Emma from the awful stench of accelerant and burning flesh. Not that Emma hadn't performed the same gruesome task many times on her own. Now that she belonged to them, they both hoped the horrors she had endured would never need to be repeated.

Jack left Emma near the edge of the group while he sought out the pilot and spoke to him about readying the craft for takeoff. He was heading back to Emma when he picked up a partial transmission from Max.

…no need to share that information. Let’s keep it locked down tight.

As if sensing his unintended intrusion, Max glanced back from his position near an aircraft and frowned at Jack. He engaged a mental block, and Jack was thrust right out of Max’s thoughts. It wasn’t uncommon for Max to be given classified information beyond Jack’s clearance level so he didn’t give much thought to what he had heard.

A short time later, Max pinged him with a private transmission.
Is she still mad at us?

No. She's coming around. Be nice to her, Max.

I'm not a child, Jack. I don't need your reminders to play nice.

Jack didn't want to argue with his old friend. Their gazes met across the field. Max stalked toward them, his drooping shoulders betraying his exhaustion. Jack hated that Max wouldn't get a rest once they reached the Outpost. His position and rank would keep him busy for hours, especially once the general got ahold of him.

Max's frown pulled Jack from his thoughts. He glanced over at Emma and saw her talking with two of the younger human soldiers. She looked almost at ease with them, not completely comfortable but not terrified either. Jack hoped Max wouldn't go all possessive on Emma. The last thing they needed was his jealous streak getting in the way.

Emma's face brightened as Max drew near. She stepped away from the two soldiers she had been conversing with and walked straight toward Max. His frown melted the second she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his broad chest. She wrinkled her nose. "Ew! You stink!"

Max made a throaty noise before chuckling. "I missed you, too, Emma."

"I did miss you, Max," she said and leaned back to look up into his eyes. "I'm sorry about what I said to you last night. I totally lost my shit out there and just blew up."

Max stroked her hair. "I won't lie, Emma. It…bothered me to be yelled at by you. Especially in front of my men."

Jack noticed the way Emma seemed surprised by the last part. Realization dawned as she made a guilty face. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Max assured her, even though it really wasn't. Anyone else would have been severely disciplined for addressing Max in that way. "You're not used to our style of life. You'll adjust. But," he said carefully, "you have to respect my position. I don't doubt that you and I are going to continue butting heads." He glanced at Jack who smiled knowingly. "I'm not the easiest person to live with."

"No, really?" Emma asked sarcastically. "I never would have guessed."

Max smiled and swept hair from her eyes. "I would appreciate it if we keep our arguments and shouting matches confined to our home. Last night, there were special circumstances, but it wouldn't be good for me or Jack if we have those kinds of scenes on the Outpost."

"I understand."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He sensed the issue of open communication would be an ongoing one in the household. "Your guys ready, Max?"

He nodded. "As soon as the relief crew gets here, we'll load up and go. They'll cement the bodies and cordon off the site."

"What about that other team?" Emma asked, her concern clear. "The scary ones? The guy who was poking fun at me?"

"Rafe?" Jack guessed. She nodded. "They're part of the Zed squad. They'll find their own way back. Why?"

"They aren't going to harass people are they? Because I'm telling you," she glanced at both of them, "my people aren't going to take kindly to a team of cyborgs sniffing around their homes. And when I say that, I mean, remember my arsenal? Yeah, multiply that by ten, and that's the kind of firepower your men are going to be up against if they try to trespass."