“Tomorrow,” she said, nodding. Knowing and accepting weren’t the same thing. “I’m going with you.”
“Of course you are.”
“I mean it, Will. Don’t even think about leaving without me.”
“I won’t. But you should get some sleep. Take some of those sleeping pills. Tomorrow might be a long day.”
“Davies said it’s only ten miles up the highway. Less than an hour there and back.”
“There’s a lot between here and there. You know my motto. Hope for the best—”
“—prepare for the worst,” Lara finished. “I know. Like at the bank. Plan Z?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Barely.” She gave him a teasing smile. “I was surprised I didn’t wake up buried underneath a ton of rubble.”
“It was close there for a moment.”
“But you got us through it.”
He nodded.
“You always get us through, Will.” She stopped pacing and gazed across the room at him. “I trust you.”
“That’s good to know.”
“But I don’t think I’ve ever said it. I trust you. Carly and Vera and Danny. They trust you, too. Explicitly. Ted and Luke did, too, and even Kate, before…”
She didn’t finish, and Will nodded silently. She wished she hadn’t brought up Kate’s name. She knew things had changed between them. They all knew, because Kate rarely came out of her room anymore. Lara knew most of this through Carly. They had become friends, though Lara was always cognizant that Kate was Carly’s friend first.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bring up Kate.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“The point is,” she said, hoping to get beyond her mistake, “I trust you. Because you’re Will.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know what that means.”
She watched him for a moment. He had such gentle eyes, despite all the violence he was capable of, and she often found herself feeling relieved whenever she saw him for some reason. On the rare days she didn’t see him in the last three months, whether in the Cafeteria for meals, or in her Infirmary for check-ups, her mind wandered to him — what was he doing, was he all right? Whenever the Door opened — it was impossible not to hear it — she knew he was leaving, because he always volunteered to go out. And when she heard it open again later that day, she knew he was back and held her breath, hoping no one called her on the radio because they needed her assistance.
Before she knew what she was doing, Lara walked across the room and kissed him on the mouth.
He didn’t respond at first, and panic rose inside her. She tried to pull away, but then his hands slipped into her hair and he pulled her mouth tighter against his, kissing her back. She was suddenly flushed and breathless as they stood like that for a while, mouths locked, until finally she had to put her hands against his chest and pushed him away slightly in order to catch her breath.
She laughed and blushed at the same time. It had been so long.
“Okay, that isn’t quite the reaction a guy wants after a kiss,” he said.
She stopped laughing. “It was a great kiss.”
“I can tell. Because you laughed.”
“I didn’t mean to laugh.”
He gave her a disbelieving smirk. “Prove it.”
“Okay,” she said and kissed him on the mouth again.
He didn’t hesitate this time. His hands moved down to her waist, slipped underneath her shirt, and touched her skin. She leaned farther against him, their mouths locked. His hands traveled upwards, and she sighed as his fingers touched her breasts.
But then suddenly the warmth and pleasure and anticipation of intimacy fled in a heartbeat and she was seized with fear and terror.
Her body must have tensed up noticeably because he stopped and pulled back slightly and looked at her, concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
She wanted to. She was sure of it when she kissed him, and even more sure of it when he kissed her back. But now…
“I can’t,” she said again, hoping that he would understand. “Not yet.”
She had never told him about what happened with the Sundays. Not the details, anyway. She hadn’t told anyone, not Kate or Carly, but she thought that they knew anyway. It was impossible not to.
Looking into his eyes now, she felt embarrassed and ashamed and tried to pull away from him, but he held onto her and wouldn’t let her go. “Stop. Lara, stop.”
She looked back at him. She expected to see accusing eyes staring back at her, chastising her for leading him on and then trying to flee. But she didn’t. Instead, he folded both hands over hers and squeezed softly.
“Okay,” he said. “Not until you’re ready. Only when you’re ready.”
He pulled her closer to him and kissed her softly on the lips, so gently that she barely felt the contact. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tightly, protectively. She wanted to stay like that forever.
“Stay with me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He stayed with her through the night. They slept in his room, on the small cot that didn’t feel nearly big enough for him, much less the both of them. Somehow they made it fit, and she slid easily against his chest in the semidarkness. Both of them still clothed, with only the lamp glowing quietly in the corner of the concrete room. He must have kicked the blanket to the floor sometime in the night. Not that they needed it. The room, like every inch of the facility, was perfectly balanced between hot and cold.
She listened to him breathe, the steady rise and fall of his chest below her. He stroked her hair, his calm breath against her every few seconds, the predictable rhythm of it soothing.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed the presence of another person against her. It seemed so long since she arrived here, and between working in the Infirmary and all the odd jobs she had found to occupy her time — the Green Room with Rose taking up most of it — she realized how much she had missed this.
Missed the physical human contact.
She was sure he would bring it up sometime in the night, but he never did. Will seemed content to let it go unspoken. She knew she would have to talk about it sooner or later, and he probably knew that, too.
But he didn’t push it, or approach it, and she was grateful for that.
After a few hours of lying against him in the darkness in silence, Lara decided it was time to stop hiding.
“He raped me,” she said softly.
She waited for him to reply, but he didn’t say anything. Had he drifted off to sleep? No. She could still feel the stroke of his fingers against her hair and the steady rhythm of his breathing underneath her.
He was letting her talk.
“John. The one Danny killed in the woods. He raped me twice, then I guess he got tired of me. I think the only reason he did it in the first place was to let me know my place. I don’t think he even enjoyed it. After that, the only reason he kept me around was to clean and cook for them. And because I told him I was a medical student. I saw them bring two other girls to the cabin afterwards, then in the morning they were gone.”
She paused. Should she stop? Or keep going? What did he want to hear? How much did she want him to know?
She needed to keep going.
“When I dream about the night I killed Jack, I switch their faces. It’s John that I’m shooting. I’ve never fired a gun before that day, and in the dream, I’m surprised by how much it kicks. But it doesn’t stop me from pulling the trigger over and over again. Even in my dreams, I’m so afraid of him, that he’ll get back up and hurt me again. So I beat him with the gun until he’s bloody and there’s nothing left of his face.”