Once Bitten: Twice Mad

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One: If it Weren't For the Rabid

Frankie was pacing the barn, waiting for something to do. She did not do sitting idle well and it had been hours since the confrontation with J.B. that morning. Hours since anyone here had said much of anything... Hours since the door had been locked and they had all taken refuge once again inside this damned barn.

Strange how a building so large could feel like a tiny, crowded prison. Colt was sitting on a hay bale beside the door with his back against the wall and his hat pulled low. Most folks would probably believe him to be asleep but Frankie could tell by his breathing that he was very much awake and alert. That blond twit in the revealing clothes was still up on the loft and hadn't yet come down. The colored man, Silas, and that whimpering woman who did nothing but cry so far as Frankie could tell were still in the back stall with that baby.

"I think you are very close to digging a ditch in that ground with your boots." Comanche warned her from where he stood propped against a stall door. He'd been in that same spot since Frankie had put him in his place that morning.

She didn't want him thinking that they were together. Frankie would not attach herself to anyone. Not now. Not in this world. It was too dangerous. Life could end in a heartbeat and Frankie would not have anyone else's death on her conscience. She already had Uncle Gibbs death there, she certainly would not be able to handle the load if Comanche's were added.

She already cared about the man more than she would ever admit. The bedding between them had only gotten more intense and all-consuming as time had gone on. He was able to make her forget everything with only a single touch. His quiet calm often infuriated her when she was trying to piss him off. He seemed to have endless patience and never lost his temper. The only time she had seen him less than cool, calm and collected was when he was taking out rabid.

In those moments he was all wild savage. All deadly, dangerous and more than Frankie could resist. She could still feel the trembling in her thighs and the dull ache between her legs from the fast and furious love they had made just the day before.... It had been after they'd battled a small group of rabid and Comanche had been covered in sweat, blood splatter and dirt. His bronze chest had been rising and falling rapidly and his hair had fallen over his brow.

Frankie had lost all control of herself, giving in to the feminine urges inside of her and jumping on him right there in the middle of the forest surrounded by dead rabid...... Probably not the most intelligent of places to be caught with your pants down but Frankie was becoming accustomed to losing all control of herself where Comanche was concerned.

"Don't you worry about my ditch diggin' skills none, Comanche." Frankie countered, though her smile took the edge out of her words. It wasn't his fault they were cooped up in here.... And he was going to be angry enough when she let him know she was leaving this group, and him, just as soon as the coast was clear, without her saying anything to anger him sooner.

Frankie couldn't stay any longer. She was getting attached to Comanche and now he was wanting to settle in with a group.... Their temporary pairing was beginning to feel permanent and Frankie had always said she would never give a man a permanent position in her life. Settling down hadn't been the life for her before the rabid apocalypse and seemed even less practical in the new world they lived in.

Uncle Gibbs had taught her that alone was the best way to be. They had depended on one another and no one else. She intended to follow his lessons.

"It sounds as if the flesh eaters have wandered off." Comanche said quietly as he walked to a crack in the wall and peered out. Colt pushed himself off the hay bale.