Aftershock. Jill Sorenson

      CHAPTER FOUR

      GARRETT NEEDED A gun.

      He’d already looked near the northeast corner, where the prisoner transport vehicle had been. Jeb must have taken the 9mm from the guard, but Garrett couldn’t find him. He’d probably been crushed under the wall of concrete during the first aftershock.

      Lauren accompanied Garrett to search the cars for supplies. He hoped one of the glove compartments would yield a weapon. He should have thought of this yesterday. Then he would have been able to prevent the attack.

      “Did you see the way Owen stared at Penny?” she asked.

      Garrett kept the RV in sight as he attempted to pry open a trunk with his crowbar. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Penny was easy on the eyes. Owen had taken a good look. “What about it?”

      “I’m worried that the convicts won’t stay away like they promised. Especially now that they’ve seen her.”

      He continued to wrestle with the trunk, sweat dampening his forehead. The vehicle was half-crushed, which made it difficult to open.

      “Maybe they’ll come after her next.”

      “I hope not,” he said. “But if they do, I’ll be more prepared.”

      Garrett knew he had his work cut out for him. He was trapped in a collapsed structure with two beautiful women, and a group of men who hadn’t touched one in years. Jeb and Mickey apparently had no qualms about rape. They’d probably have gone after anything female, but Lauren’s sexy figure didn’t help matters. Garrett had tried not to notice her as a woman, and failed. His mouth went dry whenever she got close to him.

      Penny was too young and too...pregnant...for his tastes. She had a full-grown baby inside her. He couldn’t be certain how the other men felt, but he hoped her condition would be a powerful deterrent against assault.

      “What about Cadence?”

      The crowbar almost slipped from his grip. “No,” he said, sickened by the thought. “They wouldn’t.”

      “Why not?”

      He stopped messing around with the trunk and leveled with her. “There’s a code against hurting kids in prison. Pedophiles get the same done to them—or worse.”

      She didn’t ask how he knew that. “We’re not in prison. Whatever rules they follow in there don’t apply.”

      Garrett didn’t necessarily agree. This was very much like prison. They’d already established a hierarchy and formed alliances. After living the same routine day by day, rules and structures weren’t easily shed. “You’re the most desirable target,” he said flatly. “If anything, they’ll make another move on you.”

      Her cheeks paled. He suspected that she felt more comfortable focusing on the well-being of others. So did he, but he’d learned the hard way to put himself first. Dead men couldn’t save anyone else.

      She stared at the RV, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, I should warn them anyway.”

      “Good idea. Tell them exactly what happened to you.”

      Her soft mouth twisted into a frown.

      Garrett turned his attention back to the crumpled trunk, concentrating on creating a wedge for the crowbar. He didn’t want to replay the events from last night in his head. Seeing her in a state of dishabille had disturbed him on many levels. He had to admit that not all his feelings toward her were protective.

      How different was he from Jeb and Mickey?

      He’d been in dark places and done terrible things. Situations like this turned good men into animals. Maybe there was a reason she’d thought it was him attacking her. He was certainly capable of violence. And—he wanted her. A primitive part of him had been excited by her torn clothes and exposed flesh.

      Putting all his frustrations into the task at hand, he wrenched the trunk open with a grunt of exertion.

      Jackpot.

      The owner of this vehicle was Lauren’s coma patient. He’d been wearing hiking boots, and he had a national parks pass. His truck was full of climbing gear.

      “What’s that?” Lauren asked.

      He removed a backpack loaded with carabiners, ropes and pulleys. “It might be our way out of here,” he said, glancing at the narrow crack that snaked along the easternmost wall of the structure. A few stories up, near the top, there was a crevice that appeared wide enough to stick his arm through.

      “You can’t be serious,” she said, following his gaze.

      “We can fit an SOS flag through there. If the roads are blocked, our best chance of being seen is from the air.”

      “Are you an experienced climber?”

      “No, but I’ve done some parachuting.”

      “Well, that’s practically the same thing,” she said with false brightness. “Collapsed freeway, open sky. We’re saved!”

      He smiled at her sarcasm, taking no offense. “I meant that I’m familiar with heights and safety gear. Pararescue is all about rope work. But there’s no guarantee anyone will notice our flag, even if I can get up there.”

      She moistened her lips, glancing from the cracked concrete to the dark corner where their opponents resided. He knew what she was thinking. They’d be vulnerable to an attack while he attempted an ascent.

      He rifled through the contents of the trunk, shelving the climbing plan for later. “First we need to find a CB radio.”

      “What about cell phones?”

      “We can’t count on service coming back. Power might be out indefinitely.”

      Garrett found a duffel bag with the climber’s personal belongings, a change of clothes and identification. “Sam Rutherford,” he read on the driver’s license. Inside the duffel there was a strange object, like a dusky-gold vase.

      Lauren reached out to touch it. “That’s an urn.”

      He noted a woman’s name was engraved on the side before he put it back. “Maybe he was going somewhere to spread the ashes.”

      The climber also had a canvas tent and some camping supplies, along with a desert-style camel pack. Garrett slung the pack over his shoulder and released the drinking tube, filling his mouth with fresh water. It was amazing how thirsty one could get when fluids were scarce. He wanted to drink and drink and drink.

      Instead he offered the tube to Lauren. She stood on tiptoe to reach, placing her hand on his shoulder. Her breasts pressed against his arm. While he watched, entranced, her lips closed around the tube, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked.

      Only a horny bastard would continue to stare, and think dirty thoughts, at a time like this. He dragged his gaze away from her pretty mouth and slender throat, but even the sound of her swallowing struck him as erotic.

      Focus on something else, Garrett. He grappled for a new topic and found only a random Dune quote: “‘Your water shall mingle with our water.’”

      She laughed, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, Fremen.”

      Shaking his head at himself, he added the climbing gear to the supplies he’d stockpiled yesterday. They had crates, blankets, first-aid kits, empty containers, rope, tools and a number