Read Die For You: Catastrophe Series, Book 1 Online
Authors: Michelle Mills
Tags: #ménage;post-apocalyptic;bondage
They had tricked him.
Fucking tricked him.
Rachel and Christian had been having sex behind his back. He’d known it. Known that this would happen all along, and here it was. She was leaving him for someone else, and he was the last to know.
Holy shit.
This had happened to him before, and here it was happening again. This time he’d get answers though, this time they would pay. They would hear what he had to say, know how much they’d hurt him.
In two quick strides, Adam had one hand twisted in Christian’s shirt, his other around the motherfucker’s throat. “You’re a dead man,” Adam told Christian with a voice that could grind rocks into powder.
Rachel screamed.
“Fuck,” Trevor exclaimed. “Dude, what are you doing?”
“You had sex with her, didn’t you?” Adam snarled. “That’s why you’re so damn concerned. You think that baby might be yours.”
“Fuck,” Trevor repeated.
“I…I,” Christian croaked.
“What?” he asked.
“He’s trying to tell you that you’re wrong. Let him go, Adam. This is crazy talk. Nothing happened between Christian and me. This baby is yours. Yours,” Rachel sobbed.
Adam loosened his grip around the asshole’s throat and turned his head toward her, trying for a moment to calm the fuck down. “Why didn’t you tell me then? If this was all so goddamn innocent why did you hide it from me?”
“I was scared, Adam.”
“Fuck that, you know I’d never hurt you.”
“I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of having a baby,” she shrieked.
“Bullshit,” Adam shouted. “You’ve got me. Nothing would happen to you, or the baby. You know you would be safe.” He let go of Christian, shoving him against the wall, turned to Rachel, stepped close and got in her face. “You cheated on me?” he ground out.
“Goddammit. This is bullshit,” Trevor interjected.
Rachel’s eyes were huge, tears streaming down her face. “No, no, I didn’t,” she pleaded.
Lori had lied at first too. “How many times?”
“Nothing happened between us,” Christian answered for her.
Adam didn’t turn his head and continued to look straight at Rachel’s face as he spoke. “You shut the fuck up,” he told Christian. “I don’t want to hear one more word from you. I’m talking to Rachel.” His eyes locked with hers. “You cheated on me?” he repeated, waiting for her reply. Waiting to hear that it was happening again, behind his back.
Just like Lori.
“Adam. There’s only been you. And Trevor when you brought him into our bed.”
“You expect me to believe that shit? This has probably been going on the whole time.” Adam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them, his pulse pounding in his ears. “You two were fucking behind my back.” He threw an arm out toward Christian. “Is he the one you really want?” The words echoed in his head. He’d used those exact words before when he’d found out Lori wasn’t into him. Wasn’t into his kink. Fuck, here it was, happening all over again. She’d been pretending to care for him, waiting patiently for something better to come along. “Well, Rachel, that can be arranged.”
“Adam, I want
you
,” she cried.
“You don’t want me,” he shouted. “You’re fucking Christian, without my permission, behind my back. You’re probably pregnant with another man’s child. How can you want me?” He picked up a lamp and hurled it against the wall, shattering it to pieces.
The room went quiet.
Rachel whispered. “Adam, this isn’t like Lori.”
“Bullshit,” he roared. “This is the exact, goddamn thing.”
His chest was heaving with labored breaths. He sliced a glance at Christian, who took a step back. A growl rumbled through his chest. He needed to leave before he did something all of them would regret.
Adam stalked to the door. Trevor stepped quickly out of his way.
He whipped around. “I’m out of here.” He pointed at Rachel. “And I’m not fucking coming back.”
He slammed the door shut behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Was he serious? Rachel put a hand over her mouth, sick to her stomach. Was Adam really leaving? She heard the engine of Adam’s new F-150 rumble to life through the open bedroom window, the sound of tires churning in gravel. Apparently, he was dead serious. He was leaving all right. Leaving them all behind. Leaving everything.
Leaving her.
Her knees weakened, her chest tightening. She took a few steps back and dropped on the bed, hand over her churning stomach.
It was all so out of the blue. How could he do that? Not believe a word she said and discard her so easily, as if she were trash? It was like he was some other person. Had turned into a man she didn’t recognize. Turned into the Hulk.
Behind her, Trevor and Christian shouted obscenities and began pushing and shoving at each other. Did Trevor believe what Adam had accused her of? She put her hands over her ears, the sound of their rage almost painful. She had to get out of here. She surged to her feet and darted out of the room and flew down the stairs into the kitchen. Chest heaving, she stumbled to the sink and leaned over for support, trying to calm her rapid breathing.
She lifted her head and looked through the kitchen window to the front drive to confirm her worst fear. Adam’s truck was gone. Gone. And when was he coming back? Was he
ever
coming back? And if he didn’t, what would she do?
Because she was pregnant. Now she was pregnant.
Bile rose up her throat. Rachel placed a hand over her mouth. Gagging, she scrambled to the bathroom, fell to her knees and threw up in the toilet. Crying and vomiting. Terrible combo.
Afterwards, she sighed, flushed and slumped against the wall for a moment, her face in her hands. She ground her teeth, nostrils flaring. Having Christian go off like that in front of Adam, in front of Trevor, was the last thing she’d expected. What the hell was wrong with him, and with Adam?
She took a deep breath and wiped her tears. She stood up and rinsed her mouth out in the sink. The men’s voices were still raised in argument upstairs. Something crashed. She winced. Bodies collided against a bedroom wall.
Oh dear God. This was going from bad to worse.
Suddenly, she heard the front door squeak open. Rachel straightened. Her heart in her throat. Adam? Was Adam back?
She started for the front entrance and skidded to a halt. Wait. Her pulse beat double time. She thought about those people, those people who’d been too afraid to make first contact. What if this wasn’t Adam?
The other two men were upstairs. She was alone. “Adam?” she asked tentatively from the hallway.
No answer.
She bit her lip. This had to be a stranger. They were here, finally ready. Her stomach fluttered. Omigod,
people
. Someone else was alive. Someone who had heard Adam’s broadcast and tried to reply. She heard the sound of footsteps. She should be excited, this was what they had all wanted, to meet other survivors. But why would they sneak into the house this way? Why wouldn’t this person answer her?
Breathless, she tried to dart for the stairs, but a man stood there. A handsome dark-skinned man straight out of Bollywood. He was so tall she had to look up to see his face. Before either of them could say a word, he lunged forward. She gaped and stepped back. Her hand went to her gun hidden at her hip. Too late. A cloth was on her mouth and her world went black.
* * * * *
Rachel woke up in the backseat of a sedan racing down the road to nowhere. Her hands and feet weren’t tied and there was no gag around her mouth. She groggily processed the weirdness of her situation. In the movies, kidnapped victims were always tied up and sometimes left in the trunk. But here she was, comfy across the backseat. Why? She pushed herself up, hand to her forehead, a dull throb in the back of her neck, like she’d just slept for ten hours and could keep right on going for another ten.
“Are you okay?” her kidnapper asked kindly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. As if he hadn’t just knocked her out and thrown her in a car. As if they weren’t speeding away to parts unknown so he could do who knew what with her. Like this was nothing more than a pleasant drive in the country.
How was she going to get the hell away from this freak?
“What’s going on?” Rachel squeaked. Outside, gray and brown farmland blinked past the car windows. Not one familiar orange orchard in sight. Her body tightened. “Where are we?”
“I stunned you so you’d black out and I could take you quickly and quietly. Are you all right? I measured the dosage very carefully so I’d only give you enough to knock you out for a short time. It seemed to work. We’re east of Fresno. You’ve been out for an hour.”
“What? An hour?” Her brain was muddled and her tongue thick. She grabbed the back of the front seat and leaned forward. “Who are you? Why did you take me?” She scanned the inside of the car for possible weapons and escape routes.
He kept his eyes on the road. She could only see him from behind. His hair was at his shoulders, dark, with some curl. Brown skin, tall, broad shoulders. “My name is Sebastian,” he said with a deep, soothing voice. “I’m not going to harm you. I took you from there to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” She snorted. “Safe from what? You took me from my home, from the men I live with.” Asshole. He’d kidnapped her. She couldn’t believe he was trying to rationalize his behavior. There was no excuse for what he’d done. She glanced around. The backseat was completely empty. She tried the back door. Locked. Shit, he must have clicked the automatic lock up front.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. She watched the muscles in his arm flex and ripple. “Those men were assholes,” he ground out. “I saved you from a bad situation.”
“What bad situation? You don’t know anything. They’re good men.” Maybe she could get him to pull over. Pretend she was sick?
“You’re wrong. I know one of them.”
She stiffened, leaned forward and began to listen to him. Really listen. “You know one of them? Who? Which one?”
“The big motherfucker with the guns.”
“Adam?” She knew immediately who he meant. “Wait, when did you two meet, did you know him before the outbreak?”
“No. I met him afterwards, on the freeway in San Diego.”
Her breath froze in her throat. “But…but that was when
I
met him. Why didn’t I see you there?”
“I don’t know where you were, but I was out of my mind, sick and—”
“Wait. You were sick? With Ruyigi?”
“Yeah. I was sick with it at first, had the symptoms for a few days, thought I would die just like the rest of humanity, but I recovered.”
“You got Ruyigi, the virus, and recovered? But that’s amazing.” She banged her hands against the back of the front seat. Light, giddy with the sudden release of tension, she exclaimed, “It’s a miracle. You’re a miracle. I’ve never heard of anyone surviving after being infected with Ruyigi. Have you? It had nearly a one hundred percent fatality rate. All four of us living at the farm didn’t get it at all, never had a single symptom. We survived because we were all immune, which was a miracle too. If only the CDC had known about you early on,” her voice deepened. “Someone who was infected but recovered? They could have studied you, maybe found a cure. So many people could have been saved.”
“Uh, yeah, studied me.” He looked uncomfortable at the thought. Shifted in his seat. “I’m not a lab rat or a miracle, believe me, I’m not. I was sick and out of my mind and driving a motorcycle on I-5, trying to get out of San Diego. I ran into that bastard you ended up with, and he pulled a gun on me. I was so sick by then I passed out and fell off my bike. I woke up at nightfall, realizing he’d left me for dead. Fucking left me for dead. He knew I was still alive and he chose to leave me. You can’t live with someone like that. What if you got sick, got hurt? You can’t count on him. He’s an asshole. A narcissist.”
“Omigod. I saw you!” Rachel said, ignoring the rest and latching on to the most important point. “You’re Crazy Bastard.”
He shook his head, eyes still on the road. “No, you weren’t there.” He paused. “What did you call me?”
“Yes, I was there, hiding in my car. And, sorry.” She swallowed. “That’s what Adam calls you—Crazy Bastard. I think it’s because, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you looked out of your mind when he found you. He remembers you too, because you were the last person we saw alive. But he told me you died. I thought you were dead. We heard the sound of your motorcycle and Adam ordered me to hide in the car in case you were a freak with a gun, so I did. He went out to talk to you. I stayed in the car and watched. A few minutes later, he came back.” She lowered her voice. “He said you were dead.”
“I wasn’t,” he snapped.
“I saw through my rearview mirror how he touched your wrist, looking for a pulse. He had to have known you were alive. I even saw you twitch later, and he convinced me I was seeing things.”
“He was lying. Like I told you, you can’t trust that bastard.”
“You don’t know him. I do. There has to be an explanation. His name is Adam Sanchez, he’s a Marine and his whole focus has been about finding other survivors. He wouldn’t have left you behind if he knew you were alive. There’s no way.” She was surprised those words just popped out. After all, he’d left her too, hadn’t he? Left her behind like he did with Sebastian, without looking back. Did she really know him as well as she thought, or was Sebastian right? Was Adam focused only on himself? If so, he’d never come back.
“I woke up hours later, in the dark, and managed to crawl onto my bike and kept going. I found an empty house with food and crashed. Recovered. I wasn’t angry at first at him leaving me for dead. We were strangers. For all I knew, the man I’d seen on the freeway had been sick too and had gone off somewhere else and died. But when I heard his voice on the radio…I came here and scouted the area, checking on all of you before I made first contact. Well, then I knew he was the asshole who’d left me behind for dead.”
“And that was when you decided I needed to be rescued?” she said, letting sarcasm drip from her voice. “I was fine there. I didn’t want to leave. And where are you taking me? For all I know, all you’ve done is throw me from the frying pan into the fire.”
“We’ll see about that. I’ve got some people I want you to meet.” He smiled.
“There’s more of you?” She gasped, digging her fingers into the headrest behind him. “How many? Who are they?”
He slowed the car down and turned right onto a long driveway that cut through a wide swath of vineyards. “We’re here. Let’s get out and I’ll introduce you to them.”
“We’re here? Already?” They pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway in front of a truck in the parking lot of a large packing shed. Not just any old truck. The kind that did long cross-country hauls. Why was it here?
Then, the biggest shocker of all, a young woman and a small girl came walking around the rear of the truck, big smiles on their faces, waving at Sebastian like he was their beloved husband and father returning home after a business trip. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth went dry.
People. More people.
Her eyes watered.
Sebastian’s gaze caught on the females and he transformed. What the hell? Rachel stared openmouthed at the man who had abducted her. A brilliant smile broke across his face, changing him instantly from a sourpuss to a darling man. Crinkles formed next to his black eyes, his lips curved beautifully. He parked, keyed the ignition and jumped out of the car, his feet eating up the ground. She shook her head. Who was this man?
By the time he reached them, gruff Sebastian had returned. His expression closed, hidden behind a mask of indifference. The woman’s face was also carefully blank of expression now, hiding all her former joy. The girl still ran to him, throwing her arms around Sebastian’s middle and burying her head in his stomach. He looked down, lifted a hand and gently touched the top of her hair.
Well, well. Turned out Crazy Bastard was a big softie.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d be back?” he said gently, a gleam of affection in his eyes as he looked into the young girl’s face.
She nodded against his stomach. “What took you so long, Bastian?”
“I had to get the lady, honey. The men were going to hurt her and I needed to bring her here. I had to make sure she was safe.”
Rachel stepped up behind him. She snorted at his ridiculous statement and rolled her eyes. “I was perfectly fine,” she told all three of them. “I didn’t need to be saved.”
“I rescued you,” Sebastian clarified.
“You kidnapped me,” she shot back.
“What?” The woman gasped. “Sebastian, you said that—”
The little girl pulled back and looked at Rachel, their eyes meeting for a moment. Time stopped. Rachel’s breath froze in her throat. Sebastian and the woman dropped away and Rachel’s heart melted. She forgot about being kidnapped, about the pregnancy and about Adam’s desertion and what it meant.
A child was standing in front of her for the first time in months.
A child.
A pretty girl with bronzed skin, flashing brown eyes and long, caramel-colored hair pulled back into a headband with a pink bow on top. She wore a pale pink sundress that color-coordinated with the bow on her head and on her feet were dainty silver sandals. Rachel glanced at the glamorous, perfectly dressed woman standing a few feet away. If this woman was taking care of the girl, of course she’d look cute.
The woman’s black eyes went up and down, assessing every inch of Rachel’s bedraggled appearance. Rachel’s face heated with embarrassment. She rubbed her hands against the front of her dirty pj’s from last night. She was still wearing Adam’s Marine T-shirt and a pair of flannel shorts with a drawstring waist and bare feet. No shower yet, no make-up. The men had caught her too early in the morning, and now after a sequence of bizzaro events, she was meeting these new people in rumpled pajamas. Great. Rachel knew she looked like a country bumpkin compared to this woman with the shiny black hair and delicate Asian features, a woman who looked like she could be a model, a fashion designer or an actress. Stylish, even at the end of the world. Jeez. Some people just had a gift for looking terrific no matter what, didn’t they?