The Undesirable (Undesirable Series) (19 page)

He moves from my lips to my jawline, then my neck and back again. Each kiss pulsates and I tremble with a desire that no longer scares me. I want him to explore me, I want him to touch me, and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted him. I don’t try to resist; I give myself over to my emotions and embrace him as deeply as I know how. 

Fostino pulls away and meets my eyes when I tug on the bottom of his white shirt and graze my hand over the muscles of his thin stomach. “So… you okay with this?” He holds his head away from mine. His left hand rests between my breasts and my stomach. His right hand cradles my neck as he keeps his position above me.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. He kisses me once more before he pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it onto the concrete floor. I pull the tank top over my stomach; he helps me and kisses me with a force I’ve never known before. His hands and arms encircle me, and we kiss with abandon. Then without warning, Fostino breaks away, slides a hand in his back pocket and pulls out a small red square packet. I know what he wants. He knows what I want.      

We both want it.

“Please,” I say after a few seconds. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m so glad you came back,” he replies, and then his lips pick up where the words end.

*

Hours later, we’re a mess of limbs, clothes, and the blanket. I wouldn’t know it was morning, but the Hologram Watch screams at me from its important place on my arm.

10:30.

I rest my head on my arm. Fostino’s asleep. I can’t believe I lie here like this next to Fostino Sanchez. As my eyes examine him, a small amount of light from the ventilation grate hits Fostino’s face and paints beautiful lines of light over his Roman nose and his square jaw. Within seconds, I smile.

How much I love his features. How much I love this boy. He’s so beautiful.

I watch him for ten minutes or so before he wakes up. When he does, Fostino groans and then pulls me closer toward him. I love that he lies so close to me.

“Mmm,” I croak out. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he says into my forehead. “I love you even with this brown hair.”

“It’s after 10:30.” I giggle.

“I slept well,” he says. He pulls back a little from our embrace. “Better than in a long time.” He gives me a quick peck on my cheek. “Sleep is good. Very nice.”

“It’s so quiet in this shelter,” I agree and then sprinkle my next words with sarcasm. “You know, we’re late for the factory.”

He gives me a wide, wolfish grin. “What will the regime think? What will Maxwell Cooper say? Guess we can’t be called good workers anymore, huh?”

“Fostino, I like that. I was never a good worker.”

“Who gives a shit about them, anyway?” He laughs a little and it makes him even more handsome. I didn’t think it possible. My stomach rumbles. I realize I haven’t eaten in at least 24 hours.

“You’re hungry.” He gestures over to the shelves. “That’s all. No oranges this time, but you’re welcome to whatever.”

I get up, and then grab the jar of peanut butter and the spoon from the shelf. I never thought I’d want to eat peanut butter again, but here I am. I offer him some once I scarf a bite down.

“No, I’m not hungry.” He waves it away before he sits up on the cot. “Tell me about the SSR. What did they tell you? Where did they take you?”

“Well, they took me to Canada.” Holding the peanut butter jar, I sit in the chair to take a few more bites. “They’ve some allies there, and some safe houses up on Lake Erie.”

Fostino slips his white T-shirt on and folds his arms across his chest. I can tell he listens hard.

“They trained me, they taught me how to shoot, and they took care of me.”

“What did they tell you?” I can’t read his expression. “What did they tell you about Maxwell Cooper?”

“It’s not like what they told us at school, Fostino.” Based on last night’s conversation, I know he’s ready to hear and understand what I’m about to reveal. “So much of what the government and The Party tell us is made up. It’s fake. Life in Canada’s not the way they say it is. It’s not bad. It’s not—”

“It’s free,” he interjects. “They have freedom.”

Do we even know the true meaning of the word?

“Whatever it is, Fostino, its better. Life there is better.” It is so good to tell him the truth about Canada.

“Come here.” I get up and take my place next to him on the cot. Fostino wraps his muscular arms around my shoulders and pulls my head to his chest. I rest there. “My beautiful Charlotte,” he says.

I lift my head. We kiss again. He pins my face against his, and I lose myself in the moment once more.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I hear the footsteps before I hear the voices. The noise crashes and echoes above my place on the cot.

My eyes fly open from the half-conscious sleep. Fostino lies next to me near the outside rung of the cot. He’s awake too. He adjusts his clothes. I smooth mine. Within an instant, all my muscles tense. The blood in my body runs hot. My ears hone in on the sounds.

I know who’s above us, and it horrifies me. Three voices ring out.

“Do you think she came here?” says the first voice.

“No. We will search the store. I bet she’s in there,” replies the second. “That’s where she can get supplies.”

“Um… you sure she is not headed back to this place?” questions the third. “Didn’t she live here?”

Fostino and I both hear the stomps of boots above our heads. He reaches out and grips my arm. Tightly. 

“I need to secure the hinges on the door,” he says in my ear with a hushed voice. Fostino slides off the canvas and puts a finger to his lips. He takes a few steps. Once he reaches the hinges of the shelter’s door, he makes a few quick movements to the beat of the boots pacing and searching overhead. He tightens a few screws that jut out from two of the four edges of the door. When he’s done, he smiles at me before he places a finger to his lips once more.

My eyes focus overhead as we listen to the conversation above us. The rest of my body freezes.

“That little bitch. She thinks she can evade us,” says a voice I can just make out. “I knew that other guy had to be with her.” 

“Thank God the Millers spotted her over on Metamora and alerted us,” remarks someone else.

My heart sinks. They know I’m in town for sure. No denying this now. I am a marked woman.

“Come on,” says a much gruffer voice. This person is much closer to the door of the shelter. “We’ll go check the store.”

That’s the last of the conversation we hear. I stare at Fostino. We don’t talk until we hear the apartment door slam. Fostino pulls me up off the cot and against him.

“They really want to find you,” he whispers. Somehow, he sounds amused despite all the danger we face.

“They want to find me and kill me, Fostino.” I’ve used these words so many times they sound hollow now. “They mean that.” I swallow. Out comes the question I’ve wondered for hours. “How long do you expect to stay here? How long do you want to?”

“You were right last night. I don’t have enough supplies to sustain us much longer,” he admits. He regards the supplies on the shelf. Then he looks down at me. “But where would we go?”

“When I came back to get you, the SSR said they would leave a getaway car on the right side of the grove of trees on the outskirts of town — the ones on 295.” I tighten my grip on his left bicep. “And Glenn told me there’s an escape shaft not far from there, in the wall The Party built.”

“Who’s Glenn?”

“He’s the one who came with me here to get you. One of the people in the SSR.” 

“Where is he right now?”

“He’s dead. The Party found him, and they shot him.”

“Right in front of you?”

“Yes. I was hiding around the corner, but I saw.” I place my head in my hands. I don’t want to remember it at this moment. Fostino gives my neck a gentle rub. He doesn’t say anything. No need.

“My thought is that we leave here tonight and try to get to the car, to the Humvee,” I tell him. “It’s our best chance at getting away before they find us, or burn down this building, or do worse.”

“We might die if we stay here, Char, but we’ll also die if we go.”

“We’ll die if we stay here for sure. We’ll run out of supplies. We’ll reveal ourselves in some way. They’ll find us.” I take a step back and look Fostino square in the eye. “I’d rather take the chance and see if we can make it to the Humvee. At least we would take our future into our own hands.”

“But it’s like a suicide mission.”

“So is staying here to die.” I reply in disgust. “Besides, I’m tired of people saying that.”

“Who else said it?”

“Glenn,” I remember. “But he still wanted to come here and save you anyway. Even if it was suicide. It was the right thing to do. I had to warn you.”

“Suicide. That’s what it turned out to be for him.” Fostino’s eyebrows knit together. He bites his lower lip as his voice turns sadder. A worried expression takes over his face.

“I know how to get back to Canada,” I plead. I hold up a hand for emphasis. “I’ve got a map in my backpack and a notebook with all the safe houses between here and there. I can get us back to Lake Erie.” My eyes hold his. 

“I hid in here for two days, almost three, until you found me.” Fostino surveys the shelter. “When I climbed in here, I thought I climbed into my own grave. I never expected to come out again. I wanted to die. Then I fell asleep yesterday and thought I would just die here. I woke up when you opened the trap door. Jesus, Char. Being with you again is like breathing again.”

“I know,” I whisper. “It’s the same for me, too. Please say you’ll come with me.”

“All right,” he says. I hear the reluctance, but he folds me into his arms yet again. These are the words I long for, the words I traveled all these miles to hear. “I’ll go. We’ll go. You’re right. We can’t lose much more — except each other. I don’t want to lose you again.” He presses his lips into my tangled hair.

“I’m glad that’s settled,” I reply. “Now.  When do you think we should leave?”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“It’s after one.” The one boy I’d risk my life for looks down at his own Hologram Watch.

“You know this place better than I do,” I reply. “You’re the one who’s gone out on all these patrols.”

“We’ll leave at seven. Shift change. When The Party’s the most distracted.” Then Fostino glances down at himself and sniffs. “God, I stink.”

“I’m sure I do, too.” I laugh a little.

He stands up with resolve. “Okay. I’ll go take a shower. You keep watch. I think I can take one fast in the bathroom in the apartment. I don’t know. It might not work.” He moves over to the screws in the trap door of the shelter and starts to take them out.

“No way. Not a good idea.” I frown. “Are you crazy? They’ll come back at any minute!” I hold a hand up to stop him.

“True,” he replies. “They might come back.” A beat passes. “I guess I don’t care what happens. I want to do something normal.” He moves back to the trap door and works on the screws again.

“Fostino, wait. We should figure this out.” I’m a little exasperated. “We have to be smart.”

“I’m tired of being smart.” 

“Doesn’t make it okay to be stupid!”

“Come on, Char. I think we can risk it if we take a couple of minutes. There’s no one else here right now.”

“How do you know that?” I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t like this.”

“We’ll be fine. I promise. I snuck out of the apartment the other day to get food at the store and no one saw me.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think it’s too dangerous?”

“Isn’t risk what life is about?”

I sigh, spent from all the arguments. Then I just change the subject. “What about our escape from here?”

“I haven’t thought of that yet.”

“Do you still have your Homeland Guard uniform?”

“Of course.” He nods in the direction of a pile of supplies in the far corner. “It’s right there.” Fostino regards me. “If we want even a chance to get out of Harrison Corners alive, I’ll need to wear it.”

“Yep. And I’ll play the part of Party Princess.” I roll my eyes.

“Good thing you had some practice,” he snickers. “There’s a tunnel system we used for some of the patrols that might work. And I think it’s better if we do the majority of the travel at night. Less chance of being seen.”

The screws are out of the door and it’s ready to open. “I can drive pretty well. They taught us how to do it in The Party’s training at school.”

“Good.” I exhale. “I’m still not so sure about this shower thing. What if—”

“Look, we should just do it. I won’t think about the ‘what ifs’ if you won’t.” Fostino pushes on the shelter’s trap door and it opens a little. Light from the windows of the apartment streams in and stings my eyes. “All right,” he says. “Do you have a gun?”

“Yes.” I walk over to the backpack and take out the cold sliver of metal. “This is one they gave me.” I move to the opening with the gun cocked and ready in my hand. I’ll shoot if I have to with no hesitation. I know it.

He pushes the door open a little bit more. “Here we go.”

“I still don’t feel good about this,” I say as he slides it open. “This feels like a stupid idea.”