Twisted World: A Broken World Novel (32 page)

Then, like magic, the anger melted away and the Donaghy I knew was back. His gaze moved over me, from my face to my scratched up arms and legs, and then he was in front of me. On his knees, his hands gentle as they moved up my arms.

“What happened? Oh my God, what happened?”

The tears I’d been trying to hold back broke through the dam and slid down my cheeks. “I was attacked. Last night. On the way home. I think Jackson sent the man. He said I brought it on myself. He had me down. My dress—” Donaghy pulled me against him, swearing under his breath. “The gray man saved me. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened?” he said against my head. “Look at you. You’re covered in cuts.”

“But I’m okay.” I wiggled out of his arms even though it felt good to be comforted. Something much bigger had happened to him, and I needed to know what and why and how I could help him get through it. “What happened to you?”

Concern for me warred against the pain in his eyes. “Patty.”

His sister. Dear God. Was it possible that Jackson’s influence could reach all the way to Dayton? Could Jackson seeing Donaghy and me together have caused
this
?

“Is she…?”

Donaghy nodded, and a second later his face crumpled. His eyes filled with tears and he fell into my arms. The sobs that came out of him were so violent they nearly shook the whole room. It was like watching a building collapse, having this big man sobbing into my shoulder.

All I could do was hug him. Wrap my arms around him and hold his body against mine as he shook with grief and pain and disappointment. He cursed Jackson and the zombies, his stepfather and even himself. He screamed for justice. Swore that he’d avenge his sister. He sobbed like a child who had lost the only thing he’d ever loved.

By the time he was finished crying, my back was stiff from sitting on the floor and my legs had lost all feeling. Donaghy, the biggest and strongest person I’d ever known, pulled back and wiped his face with the back of his hand. I expected him to look ashamed, maybe not even be able to meet my gaze, but he looked me straight in the eye.

“I’m sorry for what I said. None of this is your fault, and I don’t blame you. I just needed someone to be mad at.”

“I know.” I took his face between my hands while shifting just a little, hoping to get the blood flowing in my legs. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head but didn’t speak, and neither did I. Words felt insignificant in the current situation. Like putting a Band-Aid on an amputation…

“Jackson did this,” Donaghy finally said. He ran his hand up my arm to my cheek, his thumb moving over the small cut on my lip. It throbbed, but not enough for me to pull away. “He did this to both of us. He was here. He came to tell me that my sister was dead, and he said something about you. I didn’t get it at the time, but now I know.”

“He isn’t going to stop until we’re dead, is he?”

Donaghy shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“At least you’re leaving soon. Maybe then you’ll be safe.” Even thinking the words felt like I was betraying myself, because I didn’t want Donaghy to go. Saying them out loud, though, felt like they would crush me.

His eyes went to the empty cots on the other side of the room, and he shook his head. “I don’t know what they’ll do with me now. My guards are dead, so there’s no one to take me to Key West. I think I’m stuck here for the time being.”

A shiver went down my spine. I thought about Mike, the black market runner who was dead, and the silence that had surrounded me in the shantytown. And Jimmy.

“I found Jimmy’s body today,” I said, turning my gaze back to Donaghy. “While I was working on maintenance duty.”

“Jimmy?” He shook his head, but the movement was slow and the confusion in his eyes probably had more to do with the fact that his thoughts were still on his sister.

“The blond guy from my crew.”

“The big dumb one.” Donaghy’s head bobbed. “That’s right. So he’s dead?”

“And Matt is missing. Ticker was hiding in shantytown, but I found him today and told him about Jimmy. He’s getting out. Paying a zombie slayer to smuggle him out of the city.”

Donaghy let out a deep breath, then got to his feet, pulling me with him as he settled onto the cot. Even though it wasn’t very soft, it was a relief to not be on the hard, stone floor anymore. One side of my ass had gone numb, so I shifted my position in hopes of getting the blood flowing. Pins and needles moved down my thigh to my leg as the circulation returned.

“Hopefully, it works or Ticker will soon be joining his friends,” Donaghy said. “Along with a lot of other people. The city is infected. People are dying left and right. Helen said the CDC has been so busy that it’s hard to keep up.”

“That’s another thing. How well have you gotten to know Helen since you’ve been here? I need someone on the inside. Someone who works at the CDC. But I’m not sure who to trust and I don’t know Helen all that well.”

“I think—” He glanced toward the door like he wanted to make sure no one was listening in on us, but we were alone. “I think you can trust Helen and Dragon with anything you might need. They know something about all this, Meg. What, I’m not sure. But they are involved somehow.”

He paused, my hand held in his as he thought something through. Something about the expression on his face made my hand tighten around his.

“There was a man here,” Donaghy finally said, lowering his voice even though no one was around to hear his words, “yesterday morning before they brought that zombie in. He had wild gray hair and a beard. He and Dragon were talking about stuff I didn’t totally understand, but your dad’s name came up.”

My heart jumped. Could it have been the gray man? Did he really know where to find my dad? “What did they say about him?”

“The man with the gray hair said he wanted some people out—out where or who those people are, I don’t know—but Dragon asked him if he’d be willing to leave Axl behind.” My hand tightened around Donaghy’s even more, but he didn’t flinch. “The gray man said he knew Axl would want to be left behind if it meant keeping everyone else safe.”

“They’re talking about the CDC.” I lowered my voice and moved closer to Donaghy, taking a quick look around to make sure we were still alone. “He’s there. I know he is.”

“I think you may be right.”

The only question now was: What were we supposed to do about it?

Silence fell over us as we mulled over the events of the day. He was stuck here, at least for the time being, which should buy us some time. If we could get Dad out, then we might not have to say goodbye.

“We could leave,” I said, turning to face Donaghy. “If we can get my Dad out, we can leave just like Ticker. Find a zombie slayer and pay him to smuggle us out.”

I thought about Luke and the man who had been with him on my first day working in the bar—Jim. Maybe he’d be willing to help.

“I’m a convict,” Donaghy said.

“I don’t care, and if we can get far enough away from the city, they won’t be able to find us. We can start over. People do it. Live in unsanctioned areas.”

“Dragon said something about an unsanctioned town this morning, right before Jackson came and told me about Patty.” Donaghy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think he has a place in mind.”

“And you say we can trust him?”

“I think so.”

“Then we need to make this happen. We need to talk to him about it, and we need to figure out how to get Dad out of the CDC.”

“Tonight,” Donaghy agreed. “We’ll talk to Dragon and Helen tonight after the fight.”

“Okay.”

I gave his hand another squeeze as hope swirled through me. Suddenly, it felt like the pieces of the puzzle I’d been working on were finally making sense. The picture wasn’t whole yet, but I was getting there. Making progress. We were on the right track.

“You sure you’re okay?” Donaghy asked, reaching out to touch my face.

I tried not to wince when his fingers brushed the small cut on my cheek, but the gesture caught me by surprise and I jerked away before I could stop myself.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, just as I replied, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Donaghy shook his head. “If the gray man hadn’t shown up, you would have been in real trouble. I feel like I should have been there.”

“How?” I asked, shaking my head even though his words caused a warm glow to move through me. “You have no control over Jackson, and it’s not like you’re free to roam the settlement. This was beyond your control.” I took a deep breath when the truth of what I was about to say hit me hard. “Plus, you might not always be here to save me.”

Donaghy’s mouth turned down and sadness filled his blue eyes. He touched my face again, his thumb running down my cheek in a gesture that was so gentle it didn’t even sting. “I want to be.”

“I know.” We’d never been this forthcoming with one another before, and it was scary, but I wanted to be honest. “I want you to be here too, I just don’t know what’s going to happen.”

My gaze moved over him, past his cool blue eyes and down his chiseled features to the little scar on his chin. A memory clawed its way to the surface of my brain, slow and fuzzy, coming into focus a little at a time. I had a dream last night. About that scar. Or, more accurately, about a man who had a scar in the same place. There were moments in the dream when the person was Dad, and other times when it was Donaghy. The two seemed to have been interchangeable in my brain, making it hard to know who was who. But I did know this: we’d been running from something, and in my dream I knew that all I needed to do was stay close to the man with the scar. That he would keep me safe.

When I ran my fingertip down the scar, Donaghy’s stubble was rough against my skin. “How did you get this?”

“When I was little, before this whole mess even started. I fell off a playground and cut my chin. My mom had to rush me to the emergency room.” The corner of his mouth pulled up. “I had to get ten stitches.”

“So long ago,” I whispered, tracing my way back up.

I didn’t stop when I reached the top of the scar, though, but instead traced Donaghy’s bottom lip. His eyes searched mine, the wanting in them speaking volumes.

I hiked up my skirt and scooted over, climbing on his lap so I was straddling him. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he moved hands up my legs to my thighs, then to my back. I leaned forward and he met me halfway, his mouth covering mine as he pulled me against him until my chest was flush with his, our hearts beating together as we kissed.

I ran my hands down Donaghy’s arms, then back up, feeling the hard bulge of his muscles as he caressed my back. He was wearing a shirt, which was a rare thing for him, and I wanted it gone. I dragged my fingernails down his chest, and he broke away when I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. His lips were back on mine before I’d even had a chance to toss the shirt aside.

His lips moved faster over mine, and it only took seconds for him to shift flip me over so I was on my back, lying on the cot. Then Donaghy was above me, his body pressed against mine in a perfectly pleasurable way as we kissed. Fingers traced their way up my leg to my thigh and moved under my skirt. I shifted, trying to give him access to my body, but he didn’t take it any further. All he did was kiss me. Slow, sweet caresses that were broken every so often by fiery desperation when his tongue swept over mine. All the while his hand moved up my thigh, then back down, and his body rocked against mine as the fire inside me grew until I felt like I was going to burst into flames.

“Donaghy,” I gasped when his mouth left mine for the first time. My battered lips were sore from last night’s attack, coupled with the passionate assault Donaghy was in the process of giving them.

He trailed kisses down my neck to my chest, following the deep V of my neckline. His hands had migrated up to my ribcage, his fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts. There they stayed, splayed out teasingly. So close, but not moving up any further as he ran his tongue over my exposed skin, never once taking the opportunity to move the fabric of my dress aside so he could have more of me.

“Donaghy,” I gasped again when he didn’t answer. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I know,” was his only response as his lips moved back up my body. Kissing every inch of my bare skin, his teeth nipping at my collarbone and his tongue tracing my lips before his mouth once again attacked mine.

We stayed that way for a long time, Donaghy teasing me. Driving me mad. I tried to move his hands, always so close to the bull’s-eye but never quite reaching it, but he refused to be deterred. I even tried other ways to shift gears. Running my hand down his chest to his stomach, dipping my fingers past the waistband of his pants.

He groaned, but pulled my hand away. “No.”

“Why?” I asked against his lips.

“Not here. Not in a hellhole like this. You deserve better.”

His lips covered mine once again, making it impossible to respond. Not that there was much to say to that. I wasn’t sure if there was anywhere better than where we were, not anymore.

A
fter the day’s events
, the make out session hadn’t just useful for letting out some of this pent up sexual frustration; it had been therapeutic.

I had wanted so badly to take Meg’s clothes off. Even now, after the heat had died down and we were no longer kissing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her head was resting on my chest and she was running her fingers up and down my stomach, but the only thing my brain could focus on was what it would feel like to flip her onto her back and strip her down so I could plunge into her. I knew it would feel good, but I also knew it wouldn’t feel right.

I had to be better than that.

“Is Donaghy your first name?” she asked out of nowhere.

I cleared my throat and shook my head, partly to answer her, but also to try and get my brain to think about something other than screwing the girl at my side.

“No.” My voice came out strained, so I cleared my throat again.

Meg pushed herself up so she was looking me in the eye. “What is it?”

“Michael Donaghy Fallon,” I said. “Donaghy was my mom’s maiden name. She’d always planned on using it as a middle name, but she hadn’t intended to call me that. Only, I was premature. When I was born, I weighed less than two pounds.” Meg’s eyebrows shot up and I nodded. “Donaghy means fighter. She said from the moment I was born, that’s what I was. A fighter. So, that’s who I became.”

Meg smiled. “I love it.”

“Seems ironic now, doesn’t?” I shook my head. “My name meaning fighter, and here I am. Doing this.”

“I think it’s your destiny. Without you, I probably would have been killed in that bathroom. I think you were sent here to save me.”

When I wrapped my arms around her, Meg put her head down on my chest and hugged me back. I was glad, because I couldn’t stand the thought of her seeing the tears in my eyes. Not because I was ashamed, but because I wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Was it the thought that Meg might have died without me, or the realization that Patty had? Both, maybe. Whether or not it was destiny, I didn’t know, but I knew that I was here now and I had to do everything I could to embrace it.

“Patty was the most forgiving person I’ve ever known,” I said, the tears in my voice making the words shake. “Thinking that I let her down would most likely kill me if I didn’t remember that. I know, more than I know anything else in this life, that she would want me to move forward and be happy.”

“Of course she would.” Meg’s arms tightened around my chest.

“What about you?” I asked, hoping to move on to a happier subject. “You said Vivian and Axl James aren’t your biological parents. What happened to your mom and dad?”

Meg’s shoulders moved when she shrugged. “The apocalypse, I guess. My entire family was in Colorado when they found out Angus was immune, and they knew they had to bring him to the CDC if humanity was going to have a chance at surviving. My mom was pregnant with me at the time. Dad died along the way and Mom right after I was born. Complications. Joshua—” She paused to suck in a deep breath. “—couldn’t save her. Before she died, she asked Vivian and Axl to raise me. That’s about it, really. Except that I’m named after Dad’s sister. I don’t know the whole store, apparently it’s a sad one, but Megan is how my parents met.”

“I’m sorry.” I should have known there were no really happy stories anymore.

“It’s fine,” Meg said. She pushed herself up so she could look me in the eye again. “If they had survived, I would have loved them and had a great life, but I’ve had a pretty great life with my adopted parents too. Despite everything, I mean. I’ve been loved and protected, and that’s about the most you can hope for these days.”

“That’s the truth,” I said.

Meg smiled before leaning forward to kiss me again. I’d just managed to banish the thoughts of her naked body, and all it took was her lips pressed against mine for them to come screaming back. My hands went to her back without thinking, then down and over the curve of her ass. When I reached bare skin, I swear to God she spread her legs for me.

“I want you,” she said against my lips.

Her own hand had migrated down my chest to my stomach, working its way south. Every ounce of blood in my body had switched directions, flooding to my crotch and taking my brain cells with it. I slid my hand up the inside of her thigh. She pushed her fingers past the waistband of my pants. My fingertips had just brushed warmth when the door flew open behind us.

“Son of a bitch,” Dragon growled as he charged across the room. “What the fuck did I tell you?”

Meg rolled off me just as Dragon reached the cot. He grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet so fast that Meg toppled to the floor and I almost tripped over my own two feet and fell on my face.

“I told you the girls in my bar are off limits.” The words hissed their way through the hole where his teeth used to be.

“Dragon,” Meg said, hauling herself off the floor. “What the hell? I’m a big girl, and you have no right to tell me who I can and can’t sleep with.”

The man whirled around to face her, letting me go. “What did you say to me?”

Meg blinked at the fury in his voice. “I said, I’m a big girl.”

“You’re my responsibility, and the last thing I need is for you to get knocked up by some asshole convict who’s on his way out. Do you have any idea what Jackson would do if he found out about this?”

“Jackson?” Meg shook her head. “Wait, what? What do you know?”

Dragon’s face went a whole shade lighter and he took a step back. I’d never seen the man look like he wanted to unsay or undo something before, but he did now. He’d let something slip, but I wasn’t sure what and I could tell by looking at her that neither was Meg.

Dragon licked his lips and looked between Meg and me. “Nothing. I just know that after last night, the Regulator’s son has it in for both of you. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Bullshit,” I said before Meg could respond. “You know more. I know you do because I heard you the other morning, talking to that man about Axl. You know where Meg’s dad is, don’t you?”

She looked like she was holding her breath. When Dragon didn’t respond, she let all the air out of her lungs and stepped forward.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I can’t.” Dragon’s voice was low, but he looked more sure of himself than he had a second ago. “Not yet. I swear to you that when the time comes, I will tell you everything. But there are things happening that will put you in danger, and I swore I’d look out for you.”

“Who?” Meg asked. “Who told you to look out for me?”

“A friend.”

“The gray man,” I said.

Dragon’s eyes clouded over but he didn’t respond before he turned his back on us and headed for the door. “Get to work or you’re fired.
Now
.”

Meg didn’t follow him, and once we were alone she turned to face me. “What now?”

“Helen,” I said. “Talk to Helen tonight. Every chance you can get.”

“She’s going to be on Dragon’s side.”

“I know, but I think she’ll be more sympathetic to your situation. At the very least, she may give you an idea of what’s happening.”

J
ust like the
romp in the back room with Meg, the fight tonight felt so therapeutic that I might as well have been stretched out on a leather couch and spilling my guts to some disinterested man with a notepad. Every time I slammed my fist into the zombie in front of me, I pretended it was Jackson or that asshole JO’s son from Dayton. Picturing Patty, her innocent face cut and bruised, or looking at the other side of the room to see Meg’s swollen lip kept the adrenaline moving through my veins. The throbbing in my knuckles felt like aloe on a burn, and the spray of black blood across the ring was more exhilarating than it had ever been before.

The pricks of this world thought they had us where they wanted us. They thought they could prey on the weak and take whoever and whatever they wanted. But they were wrong and I wanted to prove it to them.

By the time I had smashed in the skull of the last zombie, I was having a hard time catching my breath. My body was on fire. I’d never felt anger like this before. It threatened to burn me alive from the inside out and made it difficult for me to see straight. Even when Dragon came into the ring and announced my win, I couldn’t get my vision to focus. The world around me was red. Painted with the blood I wanted to spill. Jackson’s and that asshole who had killed Patty.