Jack flinches like he’s just been slapped. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did, and though I don’t know why, I know I’ve managed to hurt him badly. I also feel like complete and utter crap. I didn’t mean any of the things I just said to him and—oh, how wonderful, now I’m acting like a complete and utter girl and tears are springing into my eyes. God, I’m so damn mad I could choke him and yet all I want to do is wrap my arms around his middle and beg him to forgive me.

These pregnancy hormones suck arse!

“Both of you shut up!” Ana yells and points at Jackson. “You need to back the fuck off,” she says and then turns on me, “and you need to chill the fuck out. This kind of stress is not good for the baby.”

Just as she says that I feel a sharp pang in my abdomen. I cry out and bend over, breathing rapidly through my nose. Ana’s by my side in a heartbeat, taking my arm in hers and leading me to the bedroom. “Holly, are you okay?”

“Yeah I …” I begin, and then pivot on my heels and run for the bathroom. I barely manage to get the lid on the toilet seat up before the vomit comes gushing out of me. My stomach cramps down on itself over and over again as I empty it into the bowl. Ana’s beside me holding back my hair, which is just about the sweetest thing she could ever do because she’s one of those people that loses her shit just seeing someone dry-retching. Jackson stays over by the door, which is typical Jackson, but when I ease back from the toilet and finally rise to my feet my eyes meet his, and he’s clearly stricken. Either that, or he’s just fighting the urge throw up now, too.

“Do you want me to call your doctor?” Ana asks as she steers me over to the sink and preps my toothbrush for me.

“No. I’ll be fine. I may have to call my boss though,” I kid.

Ana smiles and heads over to the door as I freshen up. “Well, good luck. I heard she was a raving bitch.”

“Nah, she’s okay. I think she mostly just needs a good lay,” I mutter back and Ana laughs.

Out in the hall she grabs her handbag and keys with a promise to call me at lunch to make sure I’m okay. Then she turns on Jackson. “You. Take care of her today. If she wants something, go get it for her. Do not let her get out of bed unless it’s to pee.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She points at me then. “And you, keep your bloody temper on a leash.”

“Okay, Mum,” I reply and then she’s gone, leaving Jackson and I to stare at one another, our earlier argument abandoned. Though I know the world hasn’t changed within these last few minutes of fighting, everything in our world has. Silence fills up the space between us until I finally turn away and trek back to my bedroom to hide beneath the covers and wish like hell that the zomb-ocalypse was upon us. At least that way I’d have a legitimate excuse to punch his lights out.

Chapter Thirty Three

Elijah

There’s nothing like the rush of endorphins you feel when the gate slams closed behind you and your feet touch the bitumen of the world ‘outside’. I close my eyes and inhale the country air. It’s no different than the stuff we feel and breathe in the yard everyday, but somehow it always feels different, more, free.

I open my eyes and look around. The prison sits pretty much in the town’s centre, so it’s only a short walk from here to the bus station. I don’t know how I’ll get to Sugartown from there—maybe get off on the highway and hitch, maybe walk the whole damn way, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I can walk anywhere at any time for the rest of my life, ‘cause I ain’t ever planning on going back inside.

A prison supply van pulls out of the parking space in front of me and my heart just about leaps outta my fucking chest when I see the hot blonde leaning up against my bike. Fuck me, is that a sight for sore eyes! I have an image of bending her over that bike and taking her sweet pussy with my mouth, of making her open to me and cry my name as her thighs squeeze the sides of my head and her heels dig into my back. My cock twitches in my pants and I take a deep breath and think about nuns again to calm myself down.

“Easy tiger,” I mutter as I run my hand over my freshly buzzed hair, and then cross the parking lot towards her.

“Whatcha doing here, Ana?” I ask as I come to a stop in front of her. I’m careful not to touch her, though it takes a fuck-load of restraint. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, or my bike, for that matter.”

“I thought you could use a ride.”

“How she handling?” I say, pointing to my baby, though to be honest, the thought of Ana riding my bike is causing blood to pump and flow to places it shouldn’t be right now.

“Good. Dad and I have been starting her up every few days. I know how precious you are about her, so I’m the only one taking her out.”

“And how are you holding up?”

She gives me a wistful smile. “I’m okay. I don’t get a lot of sleep on account of the nightmares, but I’m dealing with it.”

Fuck! I’d give my left nut to touch her right now, to hold her, to kiss her. I’d squeeze her tight enough that another bad dream would never enter her mind again. I’d keep all the bad thoughts away, forever, or for as long she’d let me. Christ, I sound like a fucking pussy.

“What about you?” she asks.

“Today’s a good day.” I wink at her and the sweetest blush of colour floods her cheeks. “A very good day.”

“Listen, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, but Holly and I have our own place now. It’s a big four bedroom farmhouse outside Sugartown. It’s not much, but we’ve already talked it over and you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

I’d just assumed that after making my way back to Sugartown I’d stay in the motel again but this, this is so much better. It’s a chance to try and win her back. A chance to prove we can’t live without one another. Every fibre within me is pushing me to reach out and touch her, but I fight it.

“You sure? Last time I checked, Holly wasn’t a big fan of mine.”

“She’s changed. A lot, actually. But she’s okay with it, if you are?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” I jam my hands in my pockets to keep from touching her. “I’ve got some money saved up. I’ll pay my way.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said I’ll pay my way.”

“Okay, then let’s take you home,” she mutters.

She doesn’t realise that I’m already home, because wherever she is, is home to me.


I always thought there was nothing better than the freedom you feel when you step outside prison. Clearly I’d forgotten the way it felt to have Ana’s legs wrapped around mine, the press of her beautiful tits against my back and her head tucked into my shoulder as we fly down the highway toward home.

Fuck, I’ve missed that.

Now, as I pull up the long gravel drive leading to the farmhouse, I kinda wish I’d taken the drive a little slower. I shut off the engine and Ana jumps off the back of the bike. I instantly miss her heat pressing against me. I watch as she pulls off her helmet and stare as she walks her fine arse up the path to the front steps.

“You just going to sit there all day?” she asks when she opens the front porch gate and realises I’m not behind her.

“No, I’m coming.” I jump off the bike and follow after her like a lost puppy, which I guess isn’t that far from the truth.

Ana leads me into a big Victorian-style farmhouse with huge stained-glass windows and wooden floors. I’ve never been into all that interior design shit, but if I had a house to call my own, this is exactly the kind of thing I’d want. Quiet and homey with a big-arse kitchen for my knocked up wife to bake pies and biscuits all day, and there’d still be enough room to plant her sexy arse on the bench and lick her out before dinner. Yeah, yeah, that makes me sound like a sexist, chauvinistic dick, but I’m okay with that.

We walk through the lounge room. All the furniture is mismatched and second-hand, but it only makes the house seem more endearing. Ana comes to a stop in the kitchen. I’m busy looking at the beautiful red, gold and green stained-glass windows with the sunlight filtering onto the wood floor in a swirl of distorted colours, so it takes me a while to notice the half-naked man standing in front of the fridge.

“God, you’re such a pig,” Ana mutters.

“Love you too, sweetheart.” The dude’s wearing only a towel around his hips. One tiny scrap of terry towelling between his Johnson and the world. My blood runs cold, then hot, then to boiling as I realise this guy might be my replacement. There’s certainly enough tension between them.

The dude closes up the carton of milk he was drinking from and burps in our direction. He’s pretty cut and he’s above average height, though not as tall as me. He looks like he’s never been in a fight a day in his life, so I’m as sure as fuck I can take him.

“Hey man,” he utters as his eyes roam over me. “Cool tatts.”

“Ana, you wanna tell me why there’s a half-naked man in your kitchen?” I say in her ear, though it’s loud enough for Captain No Pants to hear the threat, too.

Ana shivers, and is it my imagination or did she just lean back into me?

The dude holds up his hands in surrender, “Whoa, mate, you’ve got the wrong idea completely. It’s not like that.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what’s it like?” I say and take a step forward.

“Elijah, meet Jackson,” she says—and damn if that name doesn’t sound familiar—before clarifying, “my cousin.”

“Cousin, huh?”

“Unfortunately.” They both say at the same time, and now that I’m not thinking of pulverising the dude’s face, I can see a family resemblance. Actually, Jackson looks more like her brother than Sammy does.