Chapter 8
Ariel was bouncing with excitement when she returned to the compound two days later. After three months living underground, she was downright giddy about forty-eight hours above ground.
Yes, it had been nerve-wracking, but exhilarating at the same time. As soon as her team reentered the compound, arms loaded with the material and clothing they’d found, word spread throughout the bunker that they were back.
The four of them made their way quickly to the center of the compound, the main community space. It only took three minutes for Layla to show up, rushing toward Ariel and then hugging her so tight Ariel couldn’t breathe.
She giggled as the two of them leaned back. “See? I’m fine. Made it without a single problem.”
“I can breathe again,” Layla stated.
Ariel rolled her eyes. “Don’t even go there. You have no idea how worried I was for over twelve hours when you went missing in the woods a few months ago. Do you know how long twelve hours is when your only blood relative is on the run from militants? Alone? In a forest she isn’t familiar with?”
Layla nodded. “I’m sorry. I know that was hard. Thank God it hasn’t happened again.”
A hand landed on Ariel’s back and she spun around to find herself tugged into Kester’s embrace, and two seconds after that, Tarin’s. She allowed herself to glance around, noting that Stuart was nowhere in sight, but she refused to acknowledge his absence verbally. She would not let his stubbornness ruin her good mood.
“I guess it was a successful mission,” Willa stated as she joined the growing group, her gaze scanning the boxes of clothing that were stacked on and around the tables. Willa was a member of the council, and it was common for at least one council member to check in with a returning group. But in addition, she was Abnor’s wife.
“Very,” Abnor told her as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her briefly, smiling so broadly that the skin around his eyes wrinkled. “We only had to go to three locations. The usual clothing donation sights have grown in size. At least if the world is going to hell in a handbasket, people are still generous about sharing what they no longer need.”
Ariel grinned as she faced the group again. “Not many places to go these days wearing a ball gown or tuxedo, so there’s some fairly useless clothing out there, but…” Ariel held up a finger, “…I’m creative, so we picked up a lot of totally unwanted items, and I intend to turn them into useful clothing.”
Layla chuckled. “If anyone could turn a ballgown into something worth wearing in an apocalypse, it would be you.” Layla glanced at all the boxes and back at Ariel. “How are there places with so much clothing?”
“The Wanderers have an arrangement with The Commonwealth to pick up clothing at several locations. Donated or discarded items.”
“Ah.” Layla knew there were goods and services The Wanderers sometimes shared with The Commonwealth. Apparently one of the return products was clothing. The reciprocity between the two was important. It also explained why the clothing team was able to take a woman. No one with The Commonwealth would harm her.
Ariel spent the next hour answering questions and helping the team move everything to the clothing exchange. She would take the rest of the day off, and finally, she exited the exchange and faced Tarin and Kester, who had never left her vicinity and were waiting in the hallway.
They both reached for her and pulled her into a group hug.
She leaned into their embrace for several moments before tipping her head back, her brows lifted in question. Words weren’t necessary.
Kester winced. “Let’s go back to the apartment.”
She sighed as she followed them down the hallway back to the main community space and then down a different hallway toward the residence Kester shared with Stuart.
When he opened the door, she was surprised to see several boxes and a few piles of clothes in the living room. She lifted her gaze to both men.
“I started moving my things in here,” Tarin informed her.
“Ah.” She was glad. At least someone was making a definitive effort.
“Stuart hasn’t been here since the morning you left,” Kester stated softly. “He wouldn’t listen. We tried. In the end, he insisted he would move out and let us have this apartment.”
She rubbed her temples and dropped down onto the sofa. She still had an adrenaline high, but she hadn’t slept much either night she was away, so she was going to crash soon. Dealing with Stuart’s stubborn shit wasn’t on her list of things to manage today.
Kester sat next to her. Tarin sat on the coffee table. Both of them took a hand.
“We want to hear more about your trip, but you’re exhausted. How about we let you sleep and we can talk more later?” Kester suggested.
She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Here?” she whispered. Did they mean for her to sleep here? She had about a thousand questions about what their future was going to look like, but the first one was where they thought she was going to nap. Not to mention that suddenly the thought of sleeping vanished. Her heart was now racing, and she doubted she could rest if she wanted to.
The relationship she was developing with these men was beyond unconventional. It felt like they were doing things all out of order. It was odd enough to be “dating” two men, or was it three? But so far she’d kissed them each only once or twice to a varying degree.
They were negotiating a permanent relationship, including the fact that Tarin was moving his things into Kester and Stuart’s apartment. And they hadn’t really discussed the logistics or what this arrangement was going to look like.