What Lasts in Us

CHAPTER ELEVEN

If I wasn't pissed off already, I definitely was after Charli – Charlotte – came over and had a go at me. I needed to pull my head in after what I'd said to Emmi, but to have Charlotte come over and stick her nose in my fucking business, it only made me angrier.

I turned and watched her walk away, the thorn in my ass making me very much regret ever having made her come with me. I was definitely better off without her, but I was desperate. And desperate people do stupid things.

But if she wanted to be difficult, then so could I. Two could play that game.

If only there'd been a bright red sign flashing above her head that said DO NOT TOUCH. EXTREMELY ANNOYING. WILL PUNCH YOUR FACE IN, TRY TO KNEE YOU IN THE BALLS AND WILL SWEAR AT YOU LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW – FAVOURITE WORDS BEING FUCK YOU when I'd first seen her.

If only. If only. If only.

I never would've brought Charlotte back to camp if I'd known how bad Robbie was. I would've known how bad Robbie's condition was if I'd stayed. If I hadn't left to find him meds ...

So many options. So many outcomes. And I failed it all.

It was too late now – for anything and everything.

Hands on hips, I took a deep breath, and counted. I counted to ten, I counted to twenty, to thirty. Then I slammed my fist into the closest tree, careful enough not to use my full strength because the last thing I needed was a broken hand.

It didn't make me feel any better. My knuckles came back bloody, but I could move my fingers freely.

I was still angry when I found Charlotte sitting beside Emmi, and noticed that even though she sat next to her, not once did she look at her. No eye contact, nothing. Whenever Emmi spoke, Charlotte busied herself with tending to the fire, holding Dog as he slept, or found her hair extremely interesting. She returned conversation, but never once looked at her. I guess it had something to do with her attempt at running away before, but what it had to do with Emmi, I had no clue.

My anger surged regardless, and I had to be careful because Emmi was around. I deliberately chose the moment Emmi mentioned something about our previous group to sit down beside Charlotte, who looked every bit annoyed at our close proximity – much to my chagrin.

"We leave at dawn," I said.

Charlotte ignored me as she looked down at Dog and stroked his fur. But I knew she heard me because her gaze narrowed, because her back stiffened slightly. And then she turned to me, like she couldn't stand me having the last word.

"Are you sure that's safe?" she asked.

"Nowhere's safe." I lowered my voice for Emmi's sake. She might've been born into this world, but that didn't mean I couldn't still try and keep the horrors from her. She could be a kid for a bit longer.

Charlotte shook her head but leaned closer. "Can Robbie afford to wait that long?" she asked. "Can he even hold out 'til dawn?"

I honestly didn't know. I honestly didn't know how much longer Robbie was going to last.

"I have no idea," I replied honestly. I turned to look at her properly, unaware that I'd turned away from her. Her full attention was still on me, unlike how she'd been with Emmi. Her gaze met mine. "If you help me with Robbie," I began after a pause, not completely sure of what I needed to say next. I paused again, thinking, weighing up the risks. "If you help me with Robbie, get him to that farmhouse, you can go."

She looked at me now, surprised, bewildered – like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. God, after all this shit was cleaned up, I was never going to pick up another hitchhiker. Especially one who driving me up the fucking wall.

"You'll let me go," she echoed, and her gaze suddenly became distant and far off, like she was seeing through me. "You'll leave me alone, just like that?"

"Just like that," I replied. I smiled without humour. "No strings attached, no hidden clauses, nothing. You just need to help me get Robbie to that farmhouse – Emmi included."

I could see she was weighing up my proposal, trying to see if there were any hidden things she was missing, that I might've left out – any holes.

"Fine," she said. "I'll help you get Robbie and Emmi to that farmhouse in exchange for my freedom."

What a fucking drama queen.

"Good." That was the only word I was going to offer her. She could take whatever she wanted from that – I wasn't in the mood to indulge her.

Charlotte huffed. "Good."

Whatever her age, she definitely acted like a fucking child. I'd known her all of two seconds and she already knew how to press my buttons.

I was ready to get away from it all. I leaned back and caught Emmi's attention; her eyes flicked from Charlotte to me. "It's time to go to bed," I said, and even as I was said the words, her face dropped. It was going to be a fight to get her to go to sleep. "We have to get up early."

"But I want to stay up," she argued in that voice of hers that she knew would eventually win me over. She also knew how to press my buttons. "I'm not even tired."

"You will be when I have to wake you up."

"Can I stay up a little longer?" she pleaded. She even put her hands together, threading her fingers. "I wanna talk to Charli for a bit longer."

"Fine. Five more minutes."

"Fifteen."

I knew this was coming. "Ten more minutes, then it's straight to bed."

Emmi actually squealed at this, and as I leaned forward, back into alignment beside Charlotte, I saw her mouth curve up into a small smile, a barely-there one, but it was there nonetheless. Amused. But of course I was going to give in to Emmi. I could never say no to her.

As I pulled myself to my feet, I looked at Charlotte and Emmi, wondering if they were in fact conspiring against me. "Ten minutes," I reiterated, and I stalked off to my tent. I made sure to check in on Robbie, but his condition hadn't changed. It just smelled of rot, of infection.

Because Robbie was sick – Emmi didn't need to know that he was dying – I had to share my tent with her, which was small enough as it was. Somehow I was able to fit in with her, plus our packs, just in case we had to make a quick getaway. And that was where my pack was now, resting against the side, rifle propped beside it.

I hadn't thought I'd be away from Robbie for so long, and that was why I'd left my pack here – it wasn't going to be useful at all. But then ... then I got waylaid.

Stripping off my jacket, I tossed it at my pack; then, grabbing the hem of my shirt, I lifted it to my face and wiped at the blood that had dried there. It didn't prove helpful at all, so I took my shirt off as well and tossed it, only realising too late that it in fact hit Charlotte as she forced her way inside.

"Sick of Emmi already?" I asked. I watched her take a step, careful not to step on anything, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. Or tried to, anyway. I felt her eyes on me, trailing up from my hips to my stomach to my chest before settling on my face. I knew she wasn't really taking me in; she was trying to decipher my tattoos. "Impressed?" I asked when she didn't say anything.

She looked genuinely puzzled for a moment before her expression hardened. "Hardly," she snapped back. She tossed my shirt back at me; I caught it before it hit me in the face. "But since you're ready to have a go at me, I'll say what I need to say before I leave: I think you're making a big mistake."

As much as she was pissing me off, god, did I love that look. She was stoic yet stubborn, so prepared to fight me. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Well, I'm giving it to you," she continued. "We should be leaving now, not later."

"I speak, you follow," I said.

She stepped forward, right into my personal space. She was a few inches shorter than me, but with that look on her face, I wouldn't be surprised if she made men tremble where they stood. "Robbie will be dead by morning," she said. "Try explaining that to Emmi."

She knew a lot more than she let on. "Let me worry about Emmi," I told her, but she had already left.