The McClane Apocalypse Book Three (33 page)

"Ouch!" she yelps loudly this time. "Damn,
that hurt!" She doesn't even care if Grams gets mad this time. The
kid has some teeth on him. Sue just chuckles.

"Yeah, they go through that biting phase.
I've had mine draw blood before. It's best not to take your eyes
off of him. They can be like raising wolves sometimes," Sue jokes
with a laugh as she pats Isaac on the back.

"Yeah," Reagan says with a frown and looks
up to find John walking toward her.

"You ok?" he inquires with concern.

Hannah is finishing her song which she has
managed to get Em to sing along to. John squats beside her on his
haunches. Reagan gapes at his wide thigh muscle that bulges against
his jeans and fights the urge to lay her hand there as he had done
to her only moments ago.

"She's fine," Sue says on another laugh.
"She's just learned a lesson about not staring at your guy when you
need to keep your eyes on your baby who's just discovered his own
teeth."

Thankfully the rest of the family doesn't
hear her. Reagan's about to answer her sister with an acidic retort
over John not being her guy, but he beats her to it.

"Mm hm," John agrees.

He places his large palm on her thigh where
Jacob had just bitten. His hand takes up over half of her upper
leg. What the hell is he thinking? There are a hundred people in
the room with them. Plus, his hot hand is making her lightheaded
again.

"What? I wasn't doing that!" Reagan says
with mortification and scoots back from him.

"Ready?" he asks.

He stands again and extends his hand to her.
He swipes Jacob up with one muscular arm.

"Wh… what?" she croaks out.

"For bed. We need to get this dude a bath.
He's wearing most of my dinner and his, and then you can get a
shower and then I will. Your grandfather wants you to get some
rest, remember?" John says easily.

Reagan doesn't take his hand but gets up on
her own.

"Good-night everyone," he says so easily, so
much like himself.

Reagan is left with no choice but to follow
him from the music room and plod slowly up the stairs behind him.
She knows what prisoners who've had to walk to their own gallows
must have felt like.

She supposes it's not fair to make him bathe
Jacob alone for the fourth night in a row. Behind her, the rest of
the family is also dividing up and bidding their own farewells for
the night. Reagan is vaguely aware that the family discussed at
dinner that Simon could sleep in the basement guest room and Sam
could take the last available room down there or sleep in the
littler kids' room with them, which is what she chose. Reagan's
wishing she would have thought to invite Sam to stay in her bedroom
in the attic.

"I'll meet you in the bathroom and bring him
some clean clothes… and ours," he adds.

They reach the second floor landing where he
hands her Jacob and then presses a quick peck to her cheek, leaving
her stunned, again. Though they've only been home from the city for
a few weeks, Jacob is starting to gain a bit of weight, and Grandpa
has given him a clean bill of health being the doctor with more
pediatric experience.

Reagan shakes her head to snap out of her
shock over John's quick kiss and marches straight for the bathroom
where she runs warm water for the baby, only a few inches to
conserve hot water for the other members of the family. Derek and
Sue had come to the dinner table with wet hair and so had their two
kids, but the added two teens would probably appreciate their first
hot shower in… who knows when? Once she gets Jacob in the tub, he
splashes and giggles and splashes a whole lot more and soaks her.
His laughter is infectious, and she smiles down at him but has to
look away because her feelings for this kid are starting to scare
her. He could be the next one to get sick.

"Derek said you had trouble with that Bobby
kid today," John says as he closes the door behind him.

What the hell? She hadn't even heard him
come in, and she startles again.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she remarks and
goes about washing the baby with her soapy hands. Jacob splashes
harder, and she gets a face full of water, which she wipes on the
sleeve of her shirt.

John squats beside her and picks up the bar
of soap, lathering up and then helping to wash the squirmer.

"Cory told me about it, too. You need to
tell me that stuff, babe. You know, so that I can take care of it,"
he informs her.

Like he has some claim on her! She just
rolls her eyes at him and tries to look back at the baby, but he
holds her gaze with his own again. John's strong fingers tangle
with her wet ones, and they become slippery and sensual under his
touch. She remembers how capable of killing a man these fingers and
hands can be.

"What would you have done? Shot him? You
kind of lose your shit pretty easily," Reagan says bluntly. He
laughs softly but sobers quickly enough.

"I only lose my crap where you're concerned.
I don't like anyone trying to mess with you," John professes
honestly.

His statement makes her stomach do a flip
over his protectiveness. "Well, then take your own advice and leave
me alone," she comes back with wit.

"Can't. And I've recently discovered that
you kind of like it when I mess with you," John returns with a
confident grin. "Don't you?"

His question is not really a question at
all. He's phrased it as a damn statement of fact. Reagan swallows
hard and looks away.

"No, I don't!" she hisses vehemently at him,
hoping he'll shut up.

"Want me to prove you wrong?" John asks and
stares at her mouth.

"He's clean!" she announces abruptly and
rinses Jacob and her hands, and John rinses his own. She picks up
the baby with a towel as John drains the water from the tub. It is
not lost on Reagan how this scene of domesticity is playing out,
and it's odd but not in the most repulsive manner possible.

Reagan squats on her knees on the thick,
gray rug in front of the tub and dries the baby who only wants to
be free and crawl away from her. John helps her and again their
hands and fingers brush against the other's, making shivers trail
up and down Reagan's arms. The fact that every time she looks up at
him he's staring at her and not at Jacob doesn't help. They manage
to get the kid dressed in a fresh diaper and a white onesie with
blue elephants on the background before he crawls away to bang on
the cupboard door. Why are baby boys so violent and noisy? This kid
will grow up and want to blow up shit, no doubt.

Reagan takes the cup sitting beside the tub
and bends over on her knees to rinse the soapy residue from inside
the tub wall. She's seen Sue do this after her kids' baths and
figures it must be the thing to do. When she's done and turns back,
John has removed his shirt and is closer to her and also kneeling.
Before she can even question why he is undressing for his shower
with her still in the room, he practically tackles her to the rug.
John's arm slips behind her back as they go down, and his other
hand cradles her head. His body covers hers before they even hit
the floor, and his mouth moves greedily over hers.

"Stop!" she struggles for air, for freedom.
"What are you doing?"

"Proving you wrong, remember?" he mocks.

His head bends and his chiseled mouth covers
hers again. It's like drowning, this feeling she has when he kisses
her so thoroughly. Her fingers tremble as she raises just her right
hand to his bare shoulder. His hands sink into her messy head of
hair as he groans into her mouth deeply. This behavior, this
animalistic behavior is not like John ever behaves. This is primal,
primitive, uncontainable.

"I can't breathe," she gasps finally as she
places both hands against his chest that is covered in blonde and
brown downy hair. She remembers so clearly back to the other day
when her hands and fingers had explored with great detail this area
of his body. He leans back but just slightly. Reagan shakes her
head at him and raises her eyebrows with heightened awareness. "I
can't breathe."

Jacob crawls over to them and lays his downy
cheek against hers. Then he slobbers there, as well.

"Can't breathe, babe? That's the way it's
supposed to be, silly," he jokes.

John kisses the corner of her mouth lightly
and then her top lip and then Jacob's soft forehead. Why are her
uneven lips so fascinating to him? She's always been embarrassed by
them and used to wish she just looked like a normal girl with
normal lips and straighter hair and even not so smart
sometimes.

"Get your shower. I'm taking the squirt up
to bed and then I'll shower. Don't take forever."

He pushes himself off of her without
pressing into her body to do so and snatches up Jacob who giggles.
Good, maybe he has a sugar high and won't go to sleep for them. She
doesn't like this new, controlling John and his kissing her
whenever he wants to and his sexual references. His final comment
to her had felt like a death toll.

Reagan lies on the bathroom rug for at least
ten minutes before she feels like she can even get up to take her
shower. She has to find a way of not going to bed upstairs or with
John.

After dinner has wrapped, music time has
ended, he's seen to Em's shower—which she'd protested—and got her
off to bed, and locked the toolboxes, Kelly finally relaxes. Well,
he does his best version of relaxing while sitting with his rifle
on the front porch drinking a glass of milk and enjoying a slice of
Hannah's heavenly apple pie. She is sitting next to him unashamedly
on the swing, and he rocks them gently as she has her legs and feet
tucked beneath her. In place of the usual apron she wears over her
white dress, there is a thick, white cardigan to keep out the cool
night air. Her feet are bare, as usual. Derek and Sue join them a
moment later, but everyone else has gone to bed. Cory should be
getting some rest, as well, before his shift starts at
midnight.

"Kids all in bed?" Hannah asks of her
sister.

"Yes, thank God," Sue returns with a
chuckle. "Is it wrong to say that sometimes that's the best part of
the day?"

Everyone laughs at this. Kelly's not sure
because he's never technically had kids, but they do seem like a
lot of work. Not only that, but he has the full responsibility of
his step-siblings now which makes the work feel doubled.

"It'll settle down this winter when we don't
have quite so much farm work to do on top of taking care of the
kids and everything else," Derek reminds her.

Sue agrees, "Yeah, that will be a nice
break."

They take the two wicker chairs opposite
Kelly and Hannah. The porch is divided by the front stairs leading
up to it. Those same stairs lead to the front lawn where the kids
like to make use of the tire swing, something they haven't done for
weeks since the visitors have come. Kelly doesn't fail to notice
that the other couple also holds hands. He'd like to hold Hannah's.
Unfortunately with it being a full moon and the dim shaft of light
coming from somewhere inside the house spilling out the front
window, it just doesn't feel safe to do in front of them. He
doesn't want to deal with the situation with Hannah until their
unwanted farm guests are gone. There is already enough shit to deal
with around here.

"Simon and Sam are settled in downstairs,"
Sue tells them. "Huntley can bunk with my kids when he gets better
if he chooses to. Sam's in there with them. I offered her to have
her own room, but she refused it. Simon's in the other room by
himself, though. He just seems like such a nice kid."

They all talk quietly in the semi-dark so as
not to be overheard by the people out at the camp. Their guests
have a low burning fire going, and a few of them seem to be doing a
steady amount of partying, even though Kelly is not sure where they
could still be getting alcohol or drugs having been cooped up on
the farm for weeks. Apparently they'd hidden their stashes more
cleverly than he would've given them credit for. Of course, good
old Uncle Peter probably told them how to do it since he knows that
the McClane farm is, for all intents and purposes, a dry town.

"Yeah, but I had a hard time getting Simon
to stay the night in the house," Derek says. "He didn't feel
comfortable sleeping here in the house with the rest of the family.
Said they'll be pissed at him when they find out."

Everyone knows of whom Derek is referring.
This reinforces Kelly's dislike of those people.

"Whatever for?" Hannah asks with her usual
innocence.

"I don't know, but Sam was the same way,"
Sue explains. "She said they wouldn't like it. Seems strange to me.
Of course as soon as I offered a hot shower, she chirped up. Guess
they haven't had one of those for months. She said that most of the
time they just wash up in a bucket of cold water and bathed a few
times in a stream or lake when they came across them."

"Nice. Now why the hell didn't the men at
least heat some water in the buckets for the kids? Sorry, Hannah,"
Derek says and quickly apologizes for swearing.

"It's ok, Derek," she forgives so readily.
"I know what you mean. I don't understand that, either. Perhaps it
would have helped to control the sickness from spreading. It's the
least they could've done."

Sue explains again, "No, not even close.
They didn't do anything to help with that. They haven't taken any
preventative measures other than isolating the sick by making them
sleep outside those buses in the cold. I guess according to Sam,
they even made the pregnant woman sleep in a tent on the ground
outside once she got sick."

"That's disgusting," Kelly says with venom.
"It's been too cold at night for the past three or four weeks for
that."