I was not that girl. I was not that girl. I was not that girl.
And then I shivered noticeably when he pulled his hand from underneath my shirt, brushing his fingers gently against my skin on the way.
Maybe I was that girl just a little bit.
Vaughan turned off the car and instead of the noise from the engine, the clicking of clips and magazines filled the silence instead. Page woke up by stretching on Reagan’s lap and then tumbling to the floor, on top of more ammo and a few packs. Her grunt of pain had all five of her brothers scowling down at her in concerned uneasiness.
She was a lucky little girl- even in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse.
She smiled sheepishly up at everyone and then brushed her hair underneath her stocking cap. General rule of conduct had Page pretending to be a boy whenever there were potential humans around. Reagan and I were beyond the years where our figures could be confused for the opposite sex, but Page was still young enough to be convincing. And every time she got away with it, we breathed a little bit easier and whispered grateful prayers- unable to stop ourselves.
“Hendrix and I will go in first, Nelson, Harrison and King on the outside of the van, Reagan and Haley stay with Page inside.” Vaughan snapped out his commands with the authority that came naturally to him and then a half a second later we were following obediently.
Nelson pressed a hand to my neck, holding me possessively for a moment. His thumb rubbed against the hollow of my throat, and his fingers pressed into my skin before slipping out from underneath me. My skin felt singed from his touch, branded and marked. I ignored the frantic pattering of my heart that whispered all kinds of hopes and secrets. That was more than a simple gesture of affection.
That was one of those things that couldn’t be unexplained, that seemed so unassuming and easy, but I felt in every single one of my extremities, in the marrow of my bones. That was a goodbye if it was necessary. That was an emotion so deep and serious that I couldn’t put a name on it.
That was a promise to protect me.
And if he could manage that- a promise to continue to pursue me.
My mind swam in a tumultuous ocean of thoughts. I didn’t know how I felt, or how I should feel. But I could recognize the way my blood felt on fire, how my skin tingled and pricked at the memory of his touch, how my heart pounded away in my chest, beating a rhythm of excitement and anticipation.
Even if in my head I was confused about my future with Nelson. My body seemed perfectly attuned to where this was going.
And that scared me more than the potential Zombie threat lurking just a few yards away.
The van door slid shut with a creaking bang and then Reagan and I were left alone with Page. She seemed sleepy still and a little bit cranky. She didn’t get irritable often, but every once in a while she acted her age.
And I thought that was a good thing.
“So,” Reagan, started, shooting me a smile although her eyes remained tense.
“So,” I echoed, flashing her my own version of a “what the heck” look.
“What’s going on with you guys?” She mouthed to me.
“How should I know,” I grumbled, staring after Vaughan and Hendrix as they disappeared into the house. Their guns were raised, their shoulders positioned to shoot on sight. “He’s just…. staked his claim or whatever.” And then silently so she had to read my lips I said, “We barely know them.”
She nodded, laughing a little because she was in the exact same predicament. “And things could go bad, fast, yeah?”
“What could go bad fast?” Page asked, sounding a little dazed.
“With the Zombies,” Reagan lied- boldly.
I hid my smirk when Page looked back and forth between us.
“You’re talking about my brothers,” she deduced with her eyes shrewdly narrowed. “They would never go bad.”
Reagan looked scandalized by Page’s ability to perceive, but I recognized it. Page needed to be in school.
“You don’t know that, little girl,” I warned her as gently as I could. “Your brothers will never be bad, but relationships can go bad. And that’s what they’re asking for.”
She shook her head slowly, as if we were the ones having trouble understanding, “Not with my brothers. They don’t do things badly.”
Now that I couldn’t argue with her.
“What if they get to know us better and stop liking us,” Reagan argued.
“They wouldn’t like you if they thought that was going to happen,” she rolled her eight year old eyes and puffed out an annoyed breath.
This was the most upset with us I’d ever seen Page get and I kind of loved it. Most of the time she was perfectly obedient and lovable- I liked that she had a sassy side.