Kumbaya Much Page 11

  “I don't think there is one beyond simply walking back to the compound. And I think a nice slow dance would put us in a better frame of mind before we set out.”

  She put her hands up. “Okay, there's no dealing with you. I'm going back to the gas station, grab some snacks and starting that walk.”

  “Sef—”

  “Trent, I truly appreciate your plan to go to California. It means a lot, it really does.” Tears stung her eyes, taking her by surprise. “But...but...” Her lips began to tremble and she couldn't continue without totally losing control. She suddenly realized how much she'd already invested into going home. Having that hope extinguished bit harder than expected.

  Trent took her hands and drew her to himself. “C'mon, you owe me one.”

  She looked at him, blinking away moisture. “I do?”

  “Last time we were here, I wanted to dance, but you said no. Then there was that club in Tangent Land.”

  “You never asked me to dance then.”

  “That's because you were too busy with your pretty boy.”

  Seffy rolled her eyes in an effort to maintain her equilibrium, made more difficult now that Trent had his possessive hands around her waist. Of course she was only allowing the contact because she was cold. “And anyway, there's no music.”

  “I'll be the music.”

  “You're going to sing?”

  “Why not?”

  She smiled in spite of herself, deciding to call his bluff. “Okay, let's hear it.”

  He regarded her for a moment, then began.

  “You come in, and all at once I'm the good guy.

  I'm head over heels, maybe I have a chance.”

  Seffy groaned. “Oh no, you are joking.”

  “Now it's your turn. It's a duet.”

  “I am so not singing this or any song.”

  Trent raised his voice to sound feminine.

  “Can't you see by looking that I'm returning the

  feeling? You make it seem my wishes will be granted

  Then all of a sudden, they are.”

  Seffy closed her eyes, unable to believe he was subjecting her to this. Maybe she was really on drugs again and abducted by disguised, crooning aliens.

  “All at once, things are starting to roll

  And all I want is to fly over the deep

  The answers are now meaningless

  Because I'm taking my risks with you.”

  She opened her eyes, resting her hands on his shoulders. Admittedly, he had a good voice, but singing such a sappy song when he knew how she felt about that movie? She'd bet money Trent was a rock 'n roll guy, or at least into indie bands. Not 80s soundtracks.

  “I know you're what really matters

  I take all your words to heart

  I'll be careful not to crush your dreams

  if you promise to tell me the truth, You make it seem my wishes will be granted

  Then all of a sudden, they are.”

  “Okay, I'm starting to imagine you in a white suit with feathered hair. Except during the girl parts. Then you're in leg warmers and roller skates.”

  Trent grinned and continued.

  “When I'm next to you, I know I'm alive

  You shield me from all the bad, All I want is to be with you forever

  All at once, things are starting to roll, And all I want is to soar over the deep

  The consequences are meaningless

  Because I'm taking all my risks with you.”

  “Are you done?”

  Trent dipped his head and brushed his cheek against her temple, causing an untimely bout of goosebumps.

  “It's all true, you know,” he whispered. “The lyrics.”

  Seffy pulled away a little. “Uh huh. I can't believe you ever listened to this music, let alone learned the words.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Let's just say I borrowed Lani's cassette and decided to see what all the fuss was about.”

  “Don't tell me you became a fan.”

  He grinned. “Let's not get hasty. Sweetheart, that is some serious cheese you listen to.”

  “All that's in the past, during those messed-up hormonal years. Besides, you just told me the lyrics to that song were so true.”

  “Well, the album has a few high points.” He reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  Her weak, dependent side wanted to lean into his touch, but this was no time for a dalliance. “Um,” she said in a shaky voice, “this is no time for a dalliance.”

  “It's the perfect time.” Trent tipped up her chin and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Seffy twisted her head at the last second, her heart pounding hard. “I...I think Gareth wants me back.”

  After a stone cold pause, his expression shut down and he dropped his hands. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, regretting her outburst. “I just think that we need to stop assuming there's something between us because of a photograph.” The photograph showing them as a couple in Tangent Land. The one he'd torn up.

  Trent jammed his hands in his pockets and stepped away. “This has nothing to do with that damn picture and you know it.”

  Seffy was unable to look him in the eye.

  “So what's this with you and Gareth?”

  “He just let me know that he wanted another chance.”

  “At what? Letting you down?”

  She glowered at him.

  “Sef, has it occurred to you that he's under medical supervision?”

  “So?”

  “What does that mean in compound-speak? Experimentation, drug cocktails, mysterious substances in the I.V. bag. Sound familiar?”

  “Oh, so you're saying that Gareth could only want me under the influence of heavy-duty narcotics?”

  “I'm saying it's more than coincidental. And let's not forget how quickly he threw you over last time he was 'under the influence'.”

  Seffy glared at Trent, wondering how she'd ever let him touch her. “You don't know anything about Gareth and I—”

  “That's because you won't tell me! What are you hiding, Seffy?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to get warm. Maybe it was time to throw him a bone—get him off her back for a while. “What do you want to know?”

  His gaze caught hers and held. “What's the secret you have between you?”

  Seffy regarded him for several moments, sifting through memories that stubbornly refused to be forgotten. “Okay, you know about the foster thing. Addison, Lani, and Gareth were all in the foster system too. We were considered mangy freaks in our town, so we stuck together. Then in high school we joined the marching band.”

  Trent's brows went up. “That's it?”

  “I'm sure you know how uncool the marching band is.”

  “Seffy, you're not serious.”

  “My part was to play the glockenspiel.”

  Trent sniggered, then busted out into a full laugh.

  Seffy smacked his arm. “See?”

  “Okay, I gotta know what instrument Gareth played. No wait, let me guess...the flute?”

  She smacked him again. “Lani played the flute, Addison played the clarinet, and Gareth played...the tuba.”

  Trent's grin was truly evil. “What a shock. No wonder you're trying to hide that little tidbit.”

  “And then we found this movie, the one you just sang from. We loved it. Watched it over and over, memorized every line. We even did friggin' plays of it in our back yards. So we got this great idea to do one of the songs during halftime at a football game. We talked to our teacher and got the other band kids into doing it. After we played, and I sang, we were jeered from the stands. From then on, Gareth got beat up all the time, and the girls and I were taunted for the rest of high school.”

  Trent snorted. “Okay, as funny as that is, I'm still waiting. Crap happens to everyone in high school.”

  “You're underestimating the trauma these events induced
in us.”

  “C'mon, Sef, there's something way deeper than that.”

  Apparently one bone wasn't enough. “You said you thought our names sounded fake. It's because they are. After high school, we had them legally changed, and with our new identities, we settled in L.A for a do-over life.”

  “All because you were embarrassed at a football game.”

  She glared at him. Why did he keep pushing?

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “So your real name is Sarah?”

  Seffy felt her face heat. “Yes, but you're not allowed to call me that. Ever.”

  “And so we're back to what you won't tell me.”

  “Trent.”

  He blew out a dramatic sigh. “How did Fenn know your name?”

  That fact caused a knot of worry to tighten in her gut. “Who knows?” she said lightly. “My medical records had information in them I never shared with anyone. So I have to assume the others told the staff about me.”

  Trent regarded her for several moments. “So you're telling me this teen sob story is why you and Gareth have to be together?”

  She lifted her chin. “He understands me. He knows what I've—what all of us—have gone through.”

  “So you all pick over-heated, soap opera names. What's with Persephone?”

  Seffy hated his mocking tone. “That movie was about the Greek muses. We got into mythology after that, so I picked Persephone because it was pretty.”

  “And because you wanted to be...innocent.”

  She didn't tell him the part where Gareth encouraged her to dye her hair to look like the girl in the movie. It had changed her hair color but didn't make her innocent like she desperately wanted to be. She swallowed. “Yes.”

  Trent shook his head, continuing to scrutinize her. “Sounds like a lame cover story.”

  “And yet it's all true.”

  “It's not enough to explain your weird connections to each other.”

  “Sorry it's not dark enough for you, Trent. And here I was hoping to impress you with my tragic tale of woe.”

  He reached out and touched her face. “None of this is a good enough reason for Gareth to suddenly have the hots for you.”

  “It doesn't matter what you think.”

  “You know, I'm just remembering that Fiona said the 'test subject proved the agent successful'. What if that test subject was Gareth? What if he was only into you because of a drug cocktail?”

  She clenched her fists. “Why can't you just accept that there will never be anything between you and me?”

  “Because it's not true. And you know it down deep. Apparently you prefer denial and a hot and cold metro-boy to what's real.”

  “You're breaking my heart here, Trent. Really.”

  He stalked back over to the wall and pulled the switch on the lights, plunging the room into a depressing gloom. “Your problem is that you're just scared.”

  A thump outside the building and a creaking door echoed in the big room. “Okay, you're right,” she whispered. “I'm scared.” Seffy sidled up to Trent and gripped his upper arm. “You're super sure there are no more zombies?”

  He stared toward the door, which was now slowly opening. “Well, I haven't heard of any reports.”

  “You're stuck inside a defunct military installation most of the time. It's not like there's cable news.”

  Trent nudged her behind him and pulled a gun from his waist band. Seffy peered around his shoulder at the sudden figure of a man silhouetting the light streaming in the doorway.

  “Who are you?” Trent called, racking the gun.

  The figure made a hoarse moaning sound.

  “Oh God,” Seffy breathed.

  Trent walked forward, aiming the gun. She held onto his shirt and followed. The figure suddenly sank to his knees. As they neared, the ambient light slowly revealed familiar features.

  “Fenn!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Seffy stared as Trent jammed his gun back in his waistband and rushed forward to keep Fenn from falling over. The leader's face glowed waxen and his blue eyes were dark in the shadows.

  “Sef, run to the store and see if they have any bottled water.”

  She tapped her fingertips together. “Are we positive he isn't...you know...the z word?”

  “Seffy.”

  “Okay, okay, I'll be right back.” She gave Fenn wide berth and headed out the door, wincing in the pinkish sunlight. Careful to scan the area first, she jogged to the gas station, but didn't find any bottled water. Maybe it hadn't been invented yet. She settled for a couple of Sprites and headed back to the disco.

  Trent took the soda and helped Fenn get a drink.

  “He's just crazy and not bitey?” she said in a low voice. “I can handle crazy. I'm practically best friends with it.”

  “I was in the back of the jeep,” Fenn finally said, breathing hard. “But I must've passed out, fallen asleep, something. I woke up, realized I was about a mile from this town, so I walked here for help.”

  “What were you doing in the jeep? And while you were there, too bad you didn't remind Trent to check the gas cans, because we're kind of stuck.”

  “Not helping, Sef,” Trent said dryly.

  Fenn just shook his head. After a moment, he looked up at her. “I needed to get away from...Fiona.”

  “Oh. That's explains everything.” Sef dropped to the floor next to him and sat with her legs crossed. “I could've saved you some heartache there if I thought you were open to relationship advice.”

  Fenn surveyed her with something approaching weary amusement. “Sorry, I didn't think of it at the time.”

  “Ignore anything Seffy says. Her own relationships are disastrous.”

  “Shut up, Trent.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her then turned his attention to Fenn. “While I can appreciate your bid for freedom, I'm not sure how you ended up in the back of the jeep I was driving.”

  Fenn took a shuddering breath. “I went down to the garage and saw a jeep being prepared for departure. When no one was looking, I got under the tarps.” He smiled bitterly. “I know it sounds crazy, but I was at my wit's end.”

  “I'm not one to promote domestic violence generally, but perhaps if you smacked that woman around a little—”

  “Sef,” Trent said, exasperated. “Let the man talk.”

  Fenn shot a glance at Seffy before continuing. “Both of you know about my addiction. I started it. I own it. But I do want to stop. And Fiona says she wants to help. Unfortunately her help includes shooting me up when I'm at my weakest. I just can't fight her.”

  Seffy's eyes widened. “That's evil, as in fruits-of-the-devil evil.”

  “My plan—obviously not well-thought out—was to get away long enough to get my head straight and come up with a strategy. Then she informed me of her intention to chemically subdue the residents. I thought it might be helpful if I avoided that effect while getting my head clear.”

  “So that is her plan,” Trent said, under his breath. He frowned. “Wish we could help you, pal. But we're outta gas.”

  Fenn glanced across the room. “There's probably some underneath the building here. This was an adjunct part of the compound at one point. I believe the access point is in the floor behind the bar.”

  “Gosh, the compound isn't horrible enough right where it is that it needs tentacles all over the state?”

  “Sef,” Trent said in a low voice. “Can you keep the accusations to a minimum?”

  She sent Fenn a measured look. “Why? The place has almost killed me a bunch of times. I have deadly blood, mush for brains, and hallucinations where I'm disemboweled. The leader is here so I think it's the perfect time to lodge a complaint.”

  Fenn lifted his hand to Trent. “It's okay. She has a valid point.”

  Seffy glared at Trent, enjoying what vindication she could. “Can I blame all these things on Fiona?” she said, turning back to Fenn. “I would, happily.”

  “She might be behind some
of it, but I run the place—badly at the moment—so the responsibility lies with me.”

  Trent got up and headed behind the bar, shaking his head.

  “I'm truly sorry, Seffy,” Fenn said quietly when they were alone. “You're the last person I wanted to be hurt.”

  She blinked. “Did you want anyone hurt?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. But you've been victimized beyond belief—and while the buck stops with me—I was never behind...the bad stuff.”

  “Why can't you stop it?”

  “I'm trying. I really am.”

  Seffy remembered that in addition to his heroin addiction, he also had leukemia. She blew out a breath and turned away for a moment. “Any luck, Trent?”

  “I found a trap door.”

  “Yep, sounds like compound property.”

  Fenn's lips lifted in a ghost of a smile. Sitting so close to him she could see the intense blue of his eyes. Seffy remembered when she first saw him. Her reaction had been swift and succinct. Hottie. But his ineptitude and drug issues left her feeling nothing more than pity for the man. She got to her feet and held out her hand.

  Fenn gripped it and struggled to his feet. He didn't let go right away, but seemed to absorb something from her touch, his expression intense. Seffy felt slightly creeped out so she gently tugged her hand free.

  “There are stairs,” Trent said, muffled behind the bar.

  “It's just a stock room down there. You should see the gas cans right away, if any are left.”

  She heard Trent stomping down into the basement. Sending Fenn a sidelong glance, she made a motion, encompassing the disco. “So this place was like a cover for the compound?”

  “Kind of. We could store more sensitive things off site here. And gas...well, being across from a gas station—that just made sense to maintain a supply.”

  “Do you know what happened here? All the buildings have been vandalized. The gas station still has money in the till.”

  “I saw that on the way in and it can't be good.” He grimaced. “I've been, uh, a little zoned out, so I don't know what went on. But I'll sound Fiona out when we get back.”

  “What? Dude, you are zoned. We are not going back to the compound.” She clenched her fists. “Trent and I...we're outta here all the way.”