Her hand moved from the small of his back to his cheek. Her fingers played with the young beard. The muscles at his cheek were hard, his jaw still clenched. She touched his lips. Soft, pliant. They opened at her gentle probing, and a slight tilt had her returning the gesture. She had to stand on tiptoes, but at least with Nick, the bend down to meet her was only a dip of his head.
Their lips met. It was gentle as dry lips passed back and forth as they accustomed themselves again with the presence of another, with the texture of another.
They breathed the same air. Noses slid against sensitive skin. Kira’s hands were on Nick’s shoulders, her nails embedded for balance and for sensation. Nick opened his mouth simply to taste, the wetness on her lips a reminder of what Nick had said.
She understood. Honest to goodness, she understood him.
Throughout Euan’s infirmary, there had been no thoughts of affection for each other, simply endure, ensure that Euan survived. They had swapped the role of nursemaid only when the other was too exhausted to go on. They had slept in a chair for nights, weeks, spines constantly warped from uncomfortable wooden seats as the sheets were sodden with sweat. Through Euan’s hallucinations and fever, his arms flailed and his body thrashed. They had survived as Euan had survived.
Then Euan had begun to heal, and the fear of death had dissipated. They’d won the battle, only to realise they were yet to understand the war.
Anger had come hard, swift, from both of them. Even as Kira had tried to rationalise her emotions, she couldn’t shake the worm that wrapped its way around her heart. It consumed that muscle and replaced it with ire and resentment.
Until Euan had squeezed her hand.
Then all the fury had fled, run and disappeared as if it had never existed. She felt exasperation, frustration, sure. But the anger? Gone.
But it wasn’t so for Nick.
Kira licked her lips, tasted Nick there. She knew she should say that she understood because it was true. But so was something else. Forgiveness was all they had. Forgiveness was what they needed. Forgiveness was the only thing that would see them move forward as a whole again. ‘You must.’
He broke eye contact, hung his head. His hands were on her hips now, holding her, long fingers digging into her skin through the fabric of her pants. ‘I can’t,’ he said.
If only she could make him understand. ‘He needs us, just as much as he needed us before. Just as much as we need him. I know you can’t see it, Nick, but he’s so broken inside. Everything he was is destroyed. He can’t protect us like he used to. His body fails him. I can’t imagine how he is managing.’
‘If he had just stayed home—’ Nick attempted.
Kira cut him off. ‘You know as well as I do that he never would have stayed home. Not with that boy with us. He wanted to save us, save everyone. The human race. We can’t punish him for that. He’s probably the only hero humanity has left.’
Nick shook his head. Blond hair streaked with gold brushed his shoulders. Kira’s fingers itched to touch. ‘Humanity doesn’t need a hero.’
Kira’s face fell, the muscles loosened. She knew her eyes were soft and sad when she said, ‘Oh, Nick, you know that’s not the truth. You wouldn’t be here if that were the case. We’re going to find what’s left of Mickey-O’s men, no matter what Euan says.’
Nick’s eyes flashed yellow fire. His lips were now curled. ‘The whole point of this journey is to survive,’ he hissed.
‘You don’t believe that.’
Nick broke from her embrace and took two steps away from her. The dew still beaded on the grass, the blades green and glossy. The sky had turned from gold to blue. Clouds were on the horizon. His fists clenched, then unclenched. His shoulders rose and fell. His hand was in his hair, raking the mass back from his face. His gaze was on the clouds.
‘I’m not going to forget.’
Kira had to take three steps to reach him. She laid her cheek on his spine. His heartbeat through the fabric was rhythmic, the easy whoosh of his breath in his lungs. ‘Nobody is asking you to.’
‘But you’re asking me to forgive?’
‘They’re two, mutually exclusive things.’
She felt him shudder with sardonic laughter. ‘You just want to fuck him.’
There was still a gentle heartbeat between her thighs. ‘I want to fuck both of you.’
A bark of laughter then and he turned. ‘You need that mouth washed out, Pix, girls don’t swear.’
‘Women do,’ she told him, her eyebrow cocked.
He nodded as he grinned. ‘Women do,’ he chuckled. ‘Women do.’
Kira reached up, cupped those bristled cheeks, held his green eyes as they twinkled. ‘I’m serious, Nick. I want both of you. I need it, you need it, Euan is desperate for it. We all need the connection. Please, we can’t do it if you don’t forgive.’
The breath he blew out was long. It scattered the hair at her cheeks. ‘Fine.’
‘You have to mean it, Nick, we can’t go on without it.’
He mirrored her gesture. His hands were warm at her jaw. ‘I do.’
Kira smiled, and Nick blinked.
***
They heard the crackling of the straw as they approached. The heavy sigh, the grunt. Morning light brightened the stall, somewhere close, a mouse skittered across the concrete, little tiny claws scratched the impenetrable surface. When they rounded the stable wall, there he was.
His shirt was gone, pale skin, bisected with scars and ink greeted them. A great starburst in black ink followed the bumps of his vertebrae to explode in a thousand shards of light against his shoulders. They glittered as he shifted, his muscles rippled under the skin. Beside him was a bucket of water that Kira has used to clean herself. He drew a wet cloth over his body, a functional reprieve to remove the dirt,
