Reawakening Eden (7 page)

But some people still lived in them. Jonah had picked a mansion for himself—one with solar panels and enough green features to make it useable in spite of their new fossil-fuel limitations. For him it was about projecting power. People still associated a large estate with wealth, even if the association was based on cultural memory rather than fact.

“Money doesn’t exist anymore,” Eden mused. “Jobs with the highest salaries a year ago, people with the most security in the old world are now dependent on laborers who never had much more than enough to survive. The concept of luxury, of entertainment… Do you remember during the recession, when everyone was cutting back and movie theaters and restaurants were taking a hit? But internet and cable television were still necessities in American households. Economizing by shopping at Walmart was one thing, but suggesting someone give up Facebook? Sacrilege. We
needed
internet access. And now, no internet. No TV. And luxury? What is that these days?”

Fast cars and designer clothing were just things you decided to take home. They’d lost their status.

“America was set up with box stores and warehouses to supply hundreds of millions of people. All those resources are still sitting there. Dry and canned goods, nonperishables for a city of three hundred thousand with less than a hundred people using them.” The second epidemic had hit too fast for people to have time to stockpile or react. The American consumer machine had just stopped in its tracks.

But eventually even the abundance of goods would be used up. Even if it took years to do it. Would the concept of theft come back then? When would it begin to feel wrong again?

Eden traced a pattern on the warm skin of Connor’s chest. “I broke into the military base in Anchorage to steal an armored Hummer for the drive south. It felt like theft. I don’t know why. I’d commandeered other supplies, other vehicles, but that was the only time it felt like I was taking
from
someone. Even if every someone on the base was gone. It’s such a strange world we have now.”

What did she really own? Herself? Her memories? Jonah had tried more than once to convince her that she didn’t even really own her own body. That it belonged to the commune. That
she
belonged to them, as a symbol and a breeding machine. But she’d never bought that line. And the definition for rape hadn’t changed in the new world.

Connor’s arm around her was possessive, unmovable. He’d been proprietary toward her body—never asking permission to touch her after that first time—but there was a difference in the way he owned her body. He’d slipped into her life, commandeering her unclaimed heart the same way she’d take an abandoned car, but she wasn’t his possession. Any more than the children were hers.

They were her responsibility, but she didn’t own them. Or perhaps, in this new world, that was what ownership was—the ability to protect something, to keep it safe from those who would try to take it away or destroy it.

“Do you ever wish,” she asked softly of the man in the darkness beside her, “that we could put the world back on its tracks again? Not undo the plague…” they all wished that, “…but just get society back?”

“It’ll come,” he said. “Not the same as it was, but something stable. Maybe something better.”

Eden smiled against his skin, comforted by his surety.

How different the Seattle commune would be if a man like Connor had stepped forward to take charge rather than Jonah. He was a natural leader of a very different type—the general rather than the pope.

“Do you think you’ll ever…?” She paused, not sure how to ask her question. “Would you want to live in one of the new cities? Be part of shaping the new societies?”
Would you want to live with me?

Connor was silent for a long time, but Eden tried not to read anything into his pauses. He took his time, framing his words carefully, considering them from all angles, so she always felt certain he meant exactly what he said. It was a rare trait, in any version of the world.

“This is my home. I’m not ready to leave it.”

Eden forgot how to breathe, her throat closing off. The feeling of rejection was keen, even though what he said wasn’t a surprise. But knowing a blow was coming wasn’t the same as feeling it land. The shock of it was debilitating.

“Eden…”

The sympathy in his voice killed her. “No.” She didn’t know what she was protesting. She just knew she didn’t want him apologizing for the fact that they wouldn’t be together after tomorrow. As long as he didn’t say he was sorry, she could handle the rejection. If he apologized, she didn’t know how many pieces she would break into.

“I—”

Eden kissed him, suddenly, forcefully, putting all her desperate need for him
not to speak
into the kiss, and infusing it with a desperate
we only have tonight
passion.

He responded instantly, pulling her more fully on top of him, so she was straddling his waist, her chest pressed to his as their mouths met and tangled. She’d held back emotion in their other encounters, giving him just her body but always keeping her soul to herself, but now she was swept away, aching with the knowledge that she needed more from him than he could give, and wanting all she could get from him in this moment. Foreplay was unnecessary, she was already hot and wet with need, and she could feel him hardening fast even though this was their third time tonight.

Eden broke the kiss, sitting up and positioning herself above him, her gaze locked on his in the darkness. She fitted herself to him and slid down slowly, stretching the moment until he was seated deeply inside her.

“God, yes
, Eden
,” he groaned, his hips thrusting upwards to urge her on.

She drew herself up and drove down onto him, taking up a blinding rhythm, rocking and gasping his name, her hands braced on his pecs as his own squeezed her hips, guiding her faster and harder. The connection between their eyes never wavered, sharp in its intensity, amplifying each sensation to a keen edge of feeling.

She felt her orgasm building in her blood as a matching rush of emotion contracted in her chest. Connor’s jaw clenched, his eyes hot and dark as his hands tightened on her almost to the point of pain. He lifted her and slammed her down. Eden ground her hips down in a tight swivel, and her world ignited as Connor swore and his hips pulsed up with the force of his release. Her breathing jerked raggedly, catching as each liquid wave of bliss shuddered through her body—and through it all her gaze stayed locked with his as she memorized the shape of fire and need on his face.

Eden collapsed against him, still breathing heavily, his chest rising like a bellows beneath her. The knot of tight emotion in her rib cage was still there. It hadn’t unfurled with her release but contracted on her heart, squeezing it in a vise grip.

She’d heard people talk about heartache before, but she’d never realized it would actually physically hurt.

Connor held her close, his arms warm around her, and Eden loved him. And tomorrow, she would leave him.

Chapter Seven

“Do you have a plan?”

Connor stood back, his arms folded tightly over his chest, as Eden crammed clothes into her backpack. It was amazing how her crap always seemed to expand whenever she unpacked. The kids lay on the living-room rug, stroking Precious with the air of death-row prisoners about to be led to their executions. They’d been moping all morning.

Connor rocked from foot to foot. He’d been edgy ever since Eden started packing. “I know you’re heading south, but do you have a specific destination?”

A couple days ago she wouldn’t have told him, but now she was certain no force on earth could make him betray their trust and tip off her pursuers. “Did you ever watch HGTV?”

“Not really.”

She smiled to herself. He was probably more of a Spike TV kind of guy. “I loved it,” Eden admitted. “Every year they would build these dream homes and give them away in a massive sweepstakes.” She rammed another thermal shell into the pack. She might have to resort to sitting on it to get it to close. “A couple years back they gave one away in New Mexico. It was totally green. Self-sustaining. Solar panels, windmills, the whole nine.” She began zipping the pack, slowly feeding the teeth through as she shoved the contents down. “When we were in Seattle, I couldn’t stop thinking about that house. I don’t know if we’ll actually go there, but it’s a destination. Once we get out of the worst winter climates, we’ll start looking at towns to see how things are.” The zipper closed and Eden propped the pack up, suddenly not knowing what to do with her hands now that she was done. Time to go. “The important thing is to be somewhere safe.”

One of Connor’s silences met that statement.

Eden straightened. “Hannah Rose. Lucas. Coats and boots.”

Lucas started to collect his things, shoulders slumped and feet dragging the whole way, while Hannah Rose developed selective deafness, continuing to cuddle and coo at Precious without even glancing in Eden’s direction. Connor shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away, studying the snowy landscape beyond the window.

“Hannah Rose,” Eden said sharply, using her get-your-butt-in-gear voice. “Now, young lady.”

The little girl sniffled noisily, batting her eyes furiously and working up a good chin wobble. Eden was sure she was really upset to be leaving, but the dramatics were a standard manipulation tactic, and she told herself not to be moved—even as the damn chin wobble ripped her heart out. It wasn’t like she wanted to leave any more than the kids did, but they were too close to where Ben had found them and Jonah was too fanatic. They couldn’t stay.

It would be better in the south. And best if they left quickly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid—as if jerking off a few layers of freshly healed skin was actually a
good
strategy.

“C’mon, babygirl.” Eden crossed to Hannah Rose and picked her up as she let loose with the hysterics, moaning, “Nooo,
Precious
. I want Precious,” in between gulping, bone-racking sobs.

Eden wrapped Hannah Rose in her fluffy down jacket and zipped her up then went to work on her boots as Hannah Rose kicked her feet halfheartedly. When she was ready, Eden set her beside Lucas. He stood, booted and buttoned up, staring listlessly into space.

“Why don’t you two take Precious outside?” Connor suggested.

Eden didn’t think five more minutes with the dog was going to make the separation any easier—it wasn’t only Precious they would miss—but when the kids looked to her for permission, she nodded her consent. When the door closed behind them, she didn’t look at Connor, moving instead to don her own jacket and boots. If this was their goodbye, she’d just as soon skip it.

“You could stay…if you like.”

Eden’s head snapped toward him. The offer was a shock. She didn’t think it had been an easy one for him to make, but as much as she might want to take him up on it, she just couldn’t. “Jonah won’t stop looking for us,” she said softly, making the words a no with the low seriousness of her voice—no hope, just facts. “We’re too close. Too easy for him to reach here. He won’t stop trying to bring us back.”

“You know I won’t let him take you.”

“You know we won’t ever have any peace,” she countered. “Not here. He knows we were in this area. It’s best for everyone if we just vanish.” Eden looked down at her hands, suddenly nervous. “You could come with us…”

Silence again. That long, thoughtful, Connor silence. And then, “No. This is my home. This place…it’s my life.”

Her ears played tricks on her and for a moment she thought he’d said it was his
wife
. And it was, Eden realized. This was her house, and her memory was bright and constant here. The pictures may be turned down on the tables, but they were never out of reach. The furnishings were still hers. The dog hers.

Connor was still hers.

And she couldn’t fault him for that. Even if it hurt. Lots of people clung to the past. At least the memory he was clinging to was one of love.

“Take Precious.”

Eden gaped at him, certain she couldn’t have heard him right. “Connor, we can’t—”

“Take her. She loves the kids. She’ll just mope when you’re gone.”

“She’s your family—”
I don’t want you to be alone.

“Take her, Eden,” he snapped, his tone brooking no resistance.

Eden met his eyes, putting her entire swollen, constricted heart into her gaze. “Thank you.”
I love you.

Connor nodded. His eloquent, accepting nod that seemed to reflect everything she felt back to her.

The moment lingered, then he cleared his throat with a cough. “Light’s wasting.” And those two words were the end of them.

Eden wasn’t having second thoughts about going back to Connor’s cabin.

Instead, as the first miles rolled under the wheels of the Suburban the man she was not thinking about had jumpstarted for them in St. Maries, she entertained herself wondering exactly how far she would make it before she started fantasizing about turning around—planning her future second thoughts was not the same as having them.

The children were listless and silent in the backseat, even with Precious sprawled in the far back with their packs, taking up more space with her massive bulk than both children combined. They’d lit up for a moment when Connor had told them Precious was going with them, then Connor had admitted he wouldn’t be accompanying his dog and Hannah Rose had burst into tears. Precious wasn’t the only one the kids had grown attached to in the last few days.

Forty minutes on the road and they hadn’t begged to go back yet. She’d take that as a victory. Eden would say no, no matter how they pleaded, but that didn’t mean she didn’t conjure up vivid fantasies of dramatic U-turns. Visions in which she would find Connor hadn’t been able to let them go and had followed them down the road. They would leap from the cars, running toward one another—in slow motion, of course—and Eden would throw herself into Connor’s waiting arms, before convincing him to come with them.

Had she really done all she could to convince him? She hadn’t argued. She hadn’t fought. Weren’t you supposed to fight for love?