The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (28 page)

“You didn’t just threaten to kill
me.
Remember
?” she asks, using
his own words against him.

Cory sighs and says, “Yes, I remember.
I wouldn’t
actually
have raped
you. You have to have figured that out by now, right?”

“You seemed pretty serious about it that
day,” she says.

“No, I was just bluffing,” he says tightly.
“I wouldn’t have. Besides, you had my brother’s gun and were
wearing my damn shirt. What would you have thought if our roles
were reversed?”

“I would’ve asked questions, not threatened
to rape and kill you!” Paige exclaims vehemently.

“That’s a relief,” he says lightly.

“What is?”

“That you wouldn’t have raped me… or
threatened to,” he jokes.

Paige pinches his side, causing him to jump
slightly.

“Hey!” he barks.

“What?” she asks
with
a laugh. “Wait, are you ticklish?”

“No, but don’t do that again or you’ll find
out,” he warns.

“Huh, I think I’ve found your kryptonite,”
she teases.

“Back to our first inopportune meeting,” he
retorts with a touch of heat. “You need to think about how you
would’ve reacted if you thought someone had killed your brother and
taken his gun.”

“Fine, so maybe I’ve been holding a grudge,”
she admits. That’s all he’s getting. She still doesn’t trust Cory.
She probably never will. He’s big, imposing, caveman-like, and
dangerous. No way, she’ll never fully trust him.

“Maybe?”

Paige doesn’t answer. Instead, she stares off
to the side, ignoring him. He glances over his shoulder at her and
grins smugly as if he’s just won their debate. Fat chance. Not only
is he untrustworthy, he’s irritating and arrogant. She’s going to
ask her brother if she can stick with him when they go on this raid
together. Sam seems to like Cory just fine. She can partner with
him.

When they get back to the barn, he extends
his forearm, allowing her to hold onto it to get down. Then he
swings down and starts toward the barn. She follows dutifully,
thinking she should help him with the dumb beast. He hooks the
impatient horse to a tie and starts pulling on straps and strips of
leather and buckles. She has no idea how to get all of this gear
onto a horse let alone back off of one.

After a few minutes of trying to help, Cory
says, “You’re in the way. Just go wait over there and hold this
rifle.”

He shoves the
heavy
Mauser into her hands and then gives her a
dismissive snub of his nose. She doesn’t
supply
an argument but hits him with an angry
stare.

“I have to
relieve
Kelly on watch duty, so you’re pretty much
free to go,” he tells her dismissively.

Paige feels put out by his rudeness. His mood
has darkened.

“Drop that rifle in the armory. Later, I’ll
show you how to properly clean one,” he says when he turns toward
her with the sweaty saddle.

“Oh, I thought you’d be busy later visiting
Evie Johnson,” she retorts and could kick herself for being such an
idiot. She even frowns.

Cory’s head jerks up and he looks surprised
by her comment. He can’t be any more surprised than she is that
she’d blurted it.

“And why would you care about what I do with
my free time, beanpole?”

Paige swallows hard, clears her voice and
raises her chin defiantly, “I don’t! You can plow it wherever you
want.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” he remarks and
sets the saddle against a stall door.

“Really? And you aren’t sleeping with the
neighbor’s daughter? Probably half of the women in town, too?” she
asks, although kicking herself would make more sense.

“That’s none of your business,
witch
,” he says
with
a smirk and crosses his arms over his chest,
planting his feet wide.

Paige feels her nostrils flare. Her cheeks
must be getting red. She spins on the ball of her foot and leaves
the barn in a fit of anger. What the hell?

When she glances back, Cory is leaning his
shoulder against the wide open barn door staring at her with deep
contemplation. What an idiot! Why had she said any of that? She
doesn’t give one snippet who he’s screwing. So why had she gone
down that road? What a perfect fool she is.

Chapter Twelve

Simon

“That’s it, Paige,” Simon encourages his
sister. A few days have passed since their last clinic day, and he
actually has a minute of free time. “Hold it closer to your body,
too.”

He’s in the side yard with Cory, his
sister, and Samantha, who’d wanted to come along even though he’d
tried to discourage it. They are showing Paige how to properly
wield a knife, techniques so that she doesn’t get it taken away
from her, and how to defend herself against someone much larger.
His sister may be a tall woman, but she’s also very thin and frail,
a person
easily
overwhelmed by
just the average-sized man. Her opponent is Cory, someone who is
much larger than the average-sized man.

She jabs forward at Cory, attempting to stab
at his midsection. Of course, his friend naturally deflects her
wrist easily and knocks the plastic, practice knife completely out
of her hand.

“Ow!” she yells angrily and rubs at her thin
wrist.

“No shit,” Cory says with equal frustration.
“I told you not to do that! Quit fighting like a girl.”

Samantha laughs softly from her perch on the
railing where she is twirling her own dagger around and spinning it
on its hilt in the palm of her dainty hand. It’s almost a
juxtaposition of the laws of nature watching her tiny, feminine
fingers manipulate a sharp, serrated dagger with such ease. She
plays her violin with equal grace.

His sister shoots a nasty glare toward
Sam for laughing at her and swings back to Cory with the same
unpleasant attitude. He is
simply
grinning from ear to ear at Paige’s distress. She stalks past
Cory, gives him a shoulder shot, and retrieves the toy dagger from
the grass.

“You may be a good shot like your brother,
but your knife skills are pretty much shit,” Cory remarks.

“Keep insulting me and find out if they get
better,” Paige threatens.

“Just watch your grip, sis,” Simon says,
trying to help her.

“Lock your bony ass grip, woman,” Cory
reprimands with his hands on his hips.

“You boys,” Sam says and hops lithely
to the ground, landing light as a feather. “You can only teach her
the basics. She
needs
to learn
to fight like a girl. She can’t fight like a guy. She’s not one,
obviously.”

She marches straight over, gives Simon
a look of superiority along the way, and pushes Cory out of the way
by pressing her small hand to his
wide
chest. His friend just laughs and backs up, his hands held up
in surrender. She takes the plastic knife from Paige.

“What are we doing wrong, kid? Show us big
brutes how it’s done,” Cory says.

His friend is always patient, kind and
brotherly toward Samantha. Cory’s the same with her that Simon was
with Em. They just have an older, brotherly affection for them.
Simon misses Em and her free-spirited youthfulness. He can’t even
imagine what Cory must feel when he remembers his sister.

“We can’t fight like you. We don’t have bulk.
We don’t have as much strength. But we do have some advantages that
you don’t,” Sam explains and sends a naughty, conspiratorial look
to Paige.

She spins her real knife in the air,
flips it once, the hilt landing with a solid slap against her palm.
Then she sheaths it on her hip. This small woman he’d spent most of
the last few days avoiding is no longer avoidable. She is forcing
her way into this training session and looking beautiful and petite
and vulnerable in her snug, worn-out
blue
jeans
, a dark blue sweater and her tall black riding
boots. Her hair is down today. He hates it when it’s down. It
swings around all shiny and glossy and black, and Simon can still
remember the way it had smelled that day at the clinic when he’d
kissed her like a lecherous bastard.

“And that would be what?” Cory antagonizes
and thumbs his finger toward Paige. “Looking cute and, in her case,
getting in the way and being bitchy?”

Paige fires a nasty look in Cory’s direction.
Sam just chuckles at him as if he isn’t being serious but just
making friendly banter.

“No, silly,” Sam tells him impudently. “We’re
faster, smoother. And most importantly of all, we’re smaller.”

“I don’t see…” Cory starts.

Sam cuts him off by spinning around to
face him and demonstrating her lightning movements. She has the
dagger to his throat before Cory can even finish his sentence. Sam
doesn’t even come as high as Cory’s shoulders, but it doesn’t stop
her from
besting
him. She backs
away to start again. She gives him a beckoning little hand motion,
taunting him. Naturally, not one to turn down a challenge, Cory
steps toward her. Before he gets within a foot of her personal
space, Sam has the dagger at his stomach, his side and again toward
his neck. She’s a tiny, dangerous nymph.

“Ok,
kiddo
,” Cory surrenders with a smile. “I couldn’t
catch you if I tried. That’s good. You’ve always been good with a
knife. That’s why I wanted you out here. I knew you could help me
with this big, gangly Amazon.”

Simon sends a warning look toward his friend
who holds up his hands in front of him in concession. His sister
mumbles something under her breath. Simon’s pretty sure it wasn’t a
compliment.

“Here, Paige,” Sam says without missing a
beat. “Let me help you. Cory, come here.”

She just orders them around, although she is
nearly a foot shorter than either of them. Simon grins
lopsidedly.

Sam takes Cory’s thick arms and extends them
toward Paige.

“See, Paige? When they come
at
you like this, you duck under or spin
to their side. Spleen, stomach, inner thigh. All good spots to hit.
If you can’t get a solid stab, then slice and slice
deep
, ‘kay?”

Simon’s grin disappears and is replaced with
a frown. Samantha isn’t the kind of girl who should be talking
about killing someone with a knife. She should be at a horse show
or in college now studying art. Or going on a date with some artsy,
hipster guy who likes sipping espresso and quoting Kierkegaard.
That thought causes him to flinch. The idea of Sam dating anyone
makes him instantly violent.

“Watch me, all right?” she says to them.

Cory and Paige stand back and off to
the side. She comes straight
at
Simon.

“No thanks,” he puts in quickly. “I’m just
here to help my sister...”

“Yeah, I know,” she says impatiently and
jerks his flannel shirt sleeve until he moves. She throws her light
and airy voice to make it sound sinister and evil. “Come over here
and be my victim.”

Cory and Paige both laugh at her. Simon
doesn’t. He just continues with the scowl.

“Cory can do this,” he tries.

“Come at me, Simon,” she insists.

Sam impatiently bobs her head at him to show
her intolerance toward his hesitation. Simon takes a slow step
toward her. She rolls her eyes at him, displaying more of her
impertinence. The sunlight is absorbed and reflected back out of
her bright blue eyes. She has a feisty look in those eyes today.
Simon wishes she would’ve just stayed with Sue and worked on the
beeswax as was the original plan until Cory got involved.

“Come on, Simon,” Cory complains. “I have a
lot to go over with your sister today. Get it on, man.”

Simon’s gaze slices across the yard to his
best friend and offers an unspoken warning of his heightening
irritation. Cory just smiles ruefully. Simon shakes his head at his
friend and turns his attention back to Samantha.

He steps at her quickly; she ducks low. Simon
gets a hand to her shoulder, but Sam spins and fake stabs him in
the gut. She’s fast and agile. He also doesn’t want to hurt her.
They square off again and she goes down on one knee to stab his
inner thigh, which makes Simon jump. He doesn’t like her in that
region or in the kneeling position in front of him. He jams his
hands into his blue-jean pockets and shrugs.

“See, Paige?” Sam asks. “They’re bigger, but
not smarter or stealthier.”

“Definitely not
smarter
,” Paige says, hinting toward
Cory.

“Yeah, but the beanpole’s super
duperty
stealthy, right?
Remember?
Can
you remember is
the better question?” Cory says with a chuckle and nudges Paige
gently against her shoulder.

Sam and Simon regard him queerly, but Paige’s
mouth falls open, gaping wide and disbelieving. Simon has no idea
what’s going on between those two. Cory smiles broadly at Simon’s
sister and shrugs as if he couldn’t help saying what he said, which
makes absolutely no sense to Simon.

“I remember just fine. Shut up,” Paige
mumbles.

“And see here, Paige?” Sam says, changing the
course of conversation back to the training. “If Simon comes at me
from behind…”

She backs up to him, making Simon
highly uncomfortable as her curvy figure
presses
against his front. He readjusts his ball
cap. Sam snatches his arm and slides it around the front of her at
shoulder height.