Stolen Melody (Snow and Ash #2) (13 page)

I don’t know how to say it, so I don’t. I don’t need to; it’s like he understands that about me. Like I understand him.

“I need to get out of this place. Find Tintagel.” The girl, Tiffany, dumps the sack of potatoes onto the counter and rubs her hands together. The bell over the door jingles as another customer leaves.

“What’s Tintagel?” I’ve never even heard of it.

She frowns and shakes her head. She does more of that hand rubbing. “Doesn’t matter. No way I’m ever getting there.”

I flip the pages of the ledger until I find her name. It’s linked to four different men, all with different last names. Something’s wrong here. I glance up at her. She can’t be any older than me.

“What’s it supposed to be? Another fort?”

“I’m actually not sure. My brother’s the one that knew everything. Supposedly some crazy billionaire knew about Yellowstone ahead of time and built a bunker somewhere in the mountains of North Carolina. Supposed to be huge, and it’s supposed to have electricity, running water, soap, all that stuff.”

“I could really, really go for a hot shower.” With Sea Island Cotton shower gel from Bath & Body, and a great big gob of hair conditioner.

“Me too, trust me.”

I glance again at the ledger. Tiffany’s last name is Macomb. None of the guys have that name. “So how’d you end up here?” I rest my elbows on the counter and cup my chin in my hands. It’s so nice to talk to a real girl.

“My brother and I were at Bluefield Mountain. That’s in West Virginia. It was okay, but we heard about Tintagel and thought we could, you know, go back to the way things were before.” She bites her lip. “He fell through some ice and drowned.”

I clap my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God!”

“I’da died out there if the guys hadn’t found me when they did.” She twirls her straight blonde hair around her finger and glances away. There’s an air of desperation about her. She hasn’t stop twitching since she got here.

The bell jingles again. Tiffany tenses and whips around.

But it’s me who gasps. Randy.

Tiffany flutters her hands and finally stuffs them in her pockets. “I have to go. If I’m late getting back…”

I nod. “The potatoes are four points. Who do I take the points from?”

“One from each,” she says. Her eyes dare me to judge her. Why?

She flicks Randy another glance, then collects her potatoes and heads for the door.

I fidget with the ledger as Randy inspects a shelf of herbs. When Tiffany closes the door behind her, he spins around and studies me uncertainly.

“Melody?” His warm brown eyes caress me like he can’t believe I’m real. “It’s me, Randy Foster.”

My gut sinks. “I thought that was you.”

He smiles and moves to the counter. “I’m so glad. I mean, when Bobson sent us away, I was afraid maybe something’d happen to you.”

Any minute someone could come in and see us. “Look, Randy—”

To my horror, he takes my hand. “You are okay?”

“I’m fine. Listen to me. You have to act like you don’t know me.”

His eyes narrow, but then he nods. “Right. You don’t want anyone to know about the whole Melody thing.”

The bell jingles again and I snatch my hand away, but it’s a middle-aged guy with a red face, not Axel.

“Randy, you have to listen to me.”

“Are those bruises?” He grabs my hand again and shoves back my sleeve.

Bugger. I pull away from him and yank the sleeve back down. “There’s this guy…”

“Did he do that to you?” He looks like he’s going to leap over the counter.

He needs to shut up and listen. “It doesn’t matter!”

He slaps his hands down on the counter and leans in. “It doesn’t matter? What kind of fucked-up situation are you in?”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. I glance around, but the red-faced guy isn’t anywhere I can see him. “He came to the town where I was staying and recognized me. He claimed me, Randy. I told him I thought I saw you yesterday, and he flipped out.”

He glances at my sleeve again, and I cross my arms over my chest.

He grits his teeth. “Who is he?”

“He’s just jealous. Please!” I practically beg him with my eyes to listen. “You’ll make my life so much easier if you just pretend you don’t know me.”

“That’s bullshit. No one should be doing this”—he shoves my sleeve back, again revealing the purpling bruises on my wrist—“to a little thing like you.”

What planet is he on? I close my eyes. “It’s not like you think.”

He raises his brow. “You want him to do this?”

My face goes scarlet. “It’s none of your business!”

“None of my—” He wipes a hand down his face. “You were always such a pretty, delicate little thing. That image they put out, it wasn’t you. I could see it.”

“Randy…”

“I used to watch you on the bus, playing your guitar. Baggy sweatshirt, no makeup, singing little country songs, and that smile on your face was so sweet. I was way too old for you, but it was an honor to keep you safe. I can’t let that guy hurt you like this.”

I’m speechless. Actually, I’m touched. I always felt so alone then.

He places both hands on the counter. “Please, let me help you.”

I swallow. I’m trembling, and whether it’s from hope or dread, I’m not sure. It’s been years, centuries since I was that girl.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully. Axel Diehl is an ex-felon and he’s big, like you. He’s also a thousand times meaner. Not to me,” I rush to say.

“Goddamn that bastard!” he snarls.

“If any man tries to take me away from him, he’ll kill him.”

“I can take him, Imogen,” he boasts. I look him up and down. He might be able to. He might not.

“You’re a nice guy. I don’t want you to die, especially not for me. Please, just leave it alone.”

He’s shaking, and I think, what’s wrong with me? Here’s my chance. He was the ultimate bodyguard. His sole purpose was to keep me safe, and he did. Back then I was an innocent little girl. But now I’m…well, not. He doesn’t know me. Not like Axel does. I think about Axel, the things he did to me last night, and immediately my body hums to life. Randy cannot, can never give me what Axel does.

“I’m leaving real soon,” he says. “I’m joining up with General Barry’s men, and I’m not coming back. All you have to do is leave him, Imogen. I’ll take you with me to the general’s territory, and he’ll never be able to touch you again. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

I wipe my hands down my face. The door jingles again, and I jump.

He throws his hands up. “It’s okay. I’m leaving. No one will know we’ve talked. Just be ready to hear from me. It won’t be more than a few weeks.”

I shake my head. “There’s no way.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it.”

I sigh.

“Promise me,” he insists. He brushes my cheek, and it’s nice. Gentle.

I close my eyes.

I nod.

“You won’t regret it,” he rushes to say. “I’ll—”

“I didn’t say yes. I said I’ll think about it.”

He backs away, nodding. “Just come with me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

I don’t breathe again until the door shuts behind him. I know he’s telling me the truth. The guy could sweep a whole pile of people back with just a thrust of his arm. I’d never, ever have to worry about anyone bothering me.

I think back to this morning, to last night—the savagery, the bliss, and the absolute peace that followed. Can I live without what Axel does for me, especially now that I finally understand how badly I need it?

I’m being stupid. Randy is handsome and sweet. I should leave with him.

Shouldn’t I?

Is it normal to want sex all the time? I’m hurrying toward the store, late as usual. I was tired and laid down in front of the fire, intending just to close my eyes for a few minutes, but it ended up being a full-on nap.

I’ve been here over two months and it’s like Axel’s on testosterone overdrive, and me, well I’m practically dying for it. I can’t wait for him to touch me, to do the things he does to me. I had no idea I could ever feel such ecstasy. Last night I came so hard I screamed. Axel says I’m made for him.

I’m scared. He talks all the time about how sexy I am, how beautiful, and how much he wants to fuck me. He hasn’t said one word about the consequences. You know. When, not if, I get pregnant. I’m not stupid. Birth control is nonexistent. Guys like him, they like their fun with a hot little thing, but moms are not sexy. I’m scared what will happen when he takes root inside me. When he unclaims me, what happens next? Will I have any place to go? Will some other guy claim me then? Just, no.

I should have asked him this in the beginning. Several times I’ve geared myself up to talk to him, but each time I chicken out. I have to, though. It’s inevitable. We fuck constantly.

When I reach the store, I find the steps freshly salted. I take them two at a time and hop inside where it’s warm.

“Could you be any lazier?” Mia hasn’t even changed into her coat. She must be getting used to me.

“Sorry, Mia.” I’m not so scared of her these days. She’s sour enough, but she never actually does anything.

“How many times do I have to tell you to be on time?”

“Oh, so you’re the boss now?” I hang my coat on the hook and reach for the apron.

“It’s a courtesy,” she says, following me. “Something your mother should have taught you.”

An unexpected lump hits me right in the throat. God, I miss my mother.

Her voice softens, but only a fraction. “Look. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you’re late almost every single day.”

I bite my lip and blush. She’s right. It’s not always my fault, but today it is.

“You tell that boyfriend of yours to show some respect. If not for you, then for me.” She yanks off her apron and stuffs it in the closet.

I’m donning mine when the door jingles. Six men shuffle in, and they bring a gust of icy wind with them.

Mia eyes the guys and smirks. “Have fun.” She stuffs her arms into the sleeves of her coat.

The door jingles again, and four more grim-faced men sweep in.

“Melody.” Axel’s friend, red-bearded Bill, nods at me.

“Why does he call you that?” Mia asks.

“It’s just a nickname.” I straighten the pencils into a neat row.

“No one called you that back in Sadie’s Bend.”

She’s like a bulldog. A wave of nausea sweeps over me, and I wish she would just leave.

A half second later, two more men come through the door.

“What’s going on, guys?” Mia asks. “There a turkey shoot and no one told me?”

“Getting ready for a war,” says a dark-bearded guy. “What kind of bullets you got in stock?”

A chill settles between my shoulder blades. “What size do you need? Are we being attacked?”

“It’s General Barry. Gang from over Asheville way. They’re headed for Johnson City.”

Bill the Red steps up to the counter with enough arrows to fuel his crossbow for a month. “That’s one of our towns. Bunch of us are headed out in an hour to make sure they don’t get there.”

“We just pressed a bunch of bullets last week. They’re behind that wall of archery equipment,” I tell the guy with the dark beard.

“Is it safe?” I ask Bill.

He lifts a shoulder. “It’s what we do. They pay us tax. We promise to keep out the other gangs. Barry’s group isn’t respecting the territories. Things could get nasty.”

Mia shakes her head and zips her coat. She ambles toward the door.

I bite my nail. “Axel won’t he going, will he?”

He raises his brow. “Oh, he’ll definitely go. You want to say good-bye to him, now’s the time.”

I feel sick, like I-might-throw-up sick. “I can’t leave. All these men…” I gesture toward the cluster swarming the back of the store.

“Don’t even ask,” Mia calls over her shoulder.

I scowl at her. “Ask what?”

“I’m not hanging out for another couple hours so you can go home and give your boyfriend a blow job.”

My jaw drops, and I blush hard. “I didn’t ask you to!”

“Good.” The door jingles again.

I’m shaking. Red rests a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Mel. I’ll have Zack Tomasello keep a watch on the house.”

“Who’s he?” Axel’s not going to like this.

“Worker from over in Boone. Nice fella. Gay.” His eyes twinkle.

Ah. Completely safe from Axel’s wrath. I smile. “You’ll be back soon, though, right?”

“I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it. It’s a good-size party, and these guys are organized. Things could get ugly.”

Axel could die. He could
die.
I get that feeling I get where I’m either going to faint or throw up. This used to happen to me a lot right before big concerts. My stomach lurches, and I bolt for the door.

Mia’s just outside smoking a joint. Yeah, the world ended, but they still grow weed. The stink makes me feel worse, and I lean over the railing and puke.