Title:
Better or Worse
Disclaimer:
Not mine…
General Info:
Rated M
Angst/Romance
Author's Note:
PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.
To those who have reviewed:
Sorry for the LONG delay. I was enrolled in a writing competition and that took up a large portion of my time AND my creativity. I am no longer participating in that contest and decided I should get back to this story since I've been begged, threatened and "harassed" about letting it fall to the wayside. So, I'm back and working diligently to get it going again. I'll be uploading the stories I made for the competition as well, so please read and respond to all postings.
Chapter 12
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." – Robert Frost
The cold unforgiving ground lay beneath her as she curled in upon herself for a few fitful hours of sleep. The constant walking and little sleep since leaving Finaqua a week earlier, was something for which DG was actually thankful. The nonstop of it all gave her less time to think about the death of the Queen.
The newest trek started just one hour after Ahamo woke, all the time it took for them to come to the consensus they needed to leave as soon as possible. No one knew where the rebels who attacked the palace were hiding and it was too risky to stay put for long since it was likely they were still close by. If those fighters decided to return to the scene of the crime their small group was as good as dead.
With little discussion everyone set about to their own tasks following the hastily thrown together funeral.
Since Ahamo was still in and out of consciousness someone had to remain at his side and Fran seemed to be the perfect choice. Her gentle touch and soft voice were soothing, and in his state of despair and pain it was something Ahamo needed. And compared to DG, Fran's emotional reaction was understandably less severe.
Needing to keep busy, DG moved around the camp to gather and distribute the collected supplies into satchels with help from Del. With great deliberation she avoided the side where the simple grave marker now stood, the dirt mound mocking her from a distance. Del took care of all gear on that side of camp.
Though she stayed away, her eyes would instinctively move over the grassless area, fill up with moisture and hastily sweep away to somewhere else as thoughts of the burial crept to mind. The ceremony was brief, not the ceremony a Queen deserved, not the ceremony her mother deserved. The three from Kansas had never met the woman, and the Cains were only momentarily in her presence after the eclipse. That left DG and her father, and Ahamo's fragile health put his contribution to a minimum.
Since DG never attended a true Ozian funeral, the customs and prayers were unknown. Instead she did what she could remember from Other Side memorial services, reciting the Lord's Prayer, telling of the Queen's sacrifices for her family and country while trying to maintain her composure. Whenever her emotions began to overload she would squeeze the shoulder of her father who was seated directly in front of her, a sort of barrier between her and the grave. It worked to a certain degree. And when the talking ended DG walked away quickly to avoid watching the actual burial.
While DG and Del were occupied with the supplies, Robbie and Jeb were acting as scavengers. Their objective: a lightweight door from inside the palace to assemble a makeshift gurney. Ahamo was too weak to make the journey especially since they had no idea how long it would take them. Walking was out of the question, and since she had never seen a wheelchair on this side, and when she brought it up the Cain men looked at her like she had three heads, a gurney was their best bet. Being a member of the resistance for many years Jeb was well suited to the task, and Robbie was eager to assist realizing Del's injured arm took him out of the equation. A small closet door was retrieved, along with a long, thick, wooden branch from the cluster of trees on the outskirts of the grounds. They fastened the branch to one end of the door, long enough so two to four people could drag the stretcher carrying her father along behind them.
Cain went to work doing his bodyguard, protector thing, checking the surrounding area. His mission was twofold. One, he was looking for evidence of the rebels. His tracking skills were second to none so if anyone could locate their departure route it was Cain. At least they could then avoid heading in the same direction. And two, Glitch and Azkadellia were out there somewhere and DG was determined to find them no matter the cost. Her sister and friend, even if he didn't remember her, were top priority. If Cain could determine which way they went, it would put her mind at ease. And with tremendous relief, Cain was able to not only find their footprints, but was also able to tell her the rebels had not found their trail. Thank God for small miracles.
Their travels over the previous week had been uneventful overall. The most heart pounding moments were when the trail of their prey, namely Az and Glitch, went cold. It took some time before Cain was able to find their footsteps again, and it was during those moments DG felt the most helpless. Who knew what Az and Glitch were going through? They never once saw signs of a campfire meaning they were trying to be as careful as possible about exposing there location. Did they have food? They did happen by some streams, so thankfully the duo was not without water.
Sleep was effectively evading her, too much going through her mind to allow any rest to occur. Rising slowly from the fetal position she had taken a few hours earlier, she quietly walked away from the campsite. Her destination was a stream hidden a good distance through the trees. She wanted to wash her face and soak her aching feet in the cool water.
After removing her shoes and socks DG sat down on a large rock along the shore and submerged her feet into the flowing water, moving her toes back and forth over the smooth rocky bottom. Dipping her cupped hands in, she splashed her face, wiping at her heavy dry eyes and dirty skin. Her wet fingers traveled over the raised scar on the right side of her head. The bandage was long gone, the stitches removed earlier that day by Jeb. DG was grateful the gash had not been worse and that it was mainly hidden under her hair. Only a small portion peaked out over her hair line high on her right temple and it was not pretty.
A large body sat down next to her on the rock, booted feet propped up on a smaller stone protruding from the trickling stream. There was no need to look sideways, she'd know those khaki pants anywhere; Cain. Closing her eyes she willed her stomach to remain calm and not upend all its meager contents into her lap.
They had spent no time alone together over this latest trek, to her immense relief. Pitying looks from her friends was one thing, but from Cain it would have killed her.
"You shouldn't leave camp like that," he said. No emotion in his voice whatsoever.
"Like what?" she asked, mimicking his emotionless façade. "Alone? At night? Walking?"
He sighed loudly, neither turning to face the other, both staring sightlessly straight ahead. "Just tell someone next time."
"Fine," she huffed. She wasn't an invalid, didn't need protecting more than anyone else did, but DG knew it was an argument she would never win. At least when her opponent was Cain.
Sighing through her nose she kicked her legs hard splashing water everywhere. Drops hit across her face, over her shirt and pants and did the same to her companion.
"Sorry," she mumbled when she noticed the splatters on his pants, though in truth she was anything but sorry.
From the corner of her eye she watched him brush over his clothes with swift strokes before his one hand clamped down on her knee. Pulling her knee to the side he forced her body to twist around to face him, her one foot still dangling in the water while the other was now bent in front of her. DG folded her arms over her chest and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the hand still holding her knee.
"DG," he began as his thumb started moving small circles over her cloth covered leg. "I'm worried about you."
So many smartass comments ran through her head. Don't be. Why? I've survived worse, I'll survive this. Just leave me alone. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from spouting anything she would regret later.
"You need to let your emotions out. They'll eat you alive."
There was no stopping the loud snort of irony from being released. Of all people to say such things the last one she expected would be him. The man kept everything bottled up so effectively that he shut out anyone who might chip away at his stoic veneer. Herself included. But even though DG knew she could totally throw it back in his face she kept her mouth closed. This time she wouldn't allow him to get a rise out of her, no matter what the ploy.
"You going to talk or keep giving me the silent treatment?" Cain asked, a bit of humor lacing through his words. "Cause no one's done that since Jeb was twelve."
Her blood began to boil knowing it was a means of referencing her age, a way of saying she was acting like a child. She didn't take the bait.
"What do you want, Cain?" she finally broke her self imposed silence. "I've already said I'd let someone know if I go off on my own again and you already know where I am."
"I care about you. I hate to see you hurting." His fingers began kneading her leg muscles enough to briefly distract her train of thought, breath hitching slightly in her throat.
"I can't do this anymore," DG shook her head in emphasis. "You keep saying you care but I don't see it. I see you walking away from me at the palace or not showing up to see me off at the village. You're full of excuses as to why we wouldn't work. I'm done waiting around. I'm done thinking you'll finally admit you feel something and I have too much going on right now to waste my time doing so."
Bending her legs she pushed herself off the rock and into a standing position. "I don't think you feel anything." It was a bit harsh but she was tired of laying her heart out on the line and having it thrown back in her face. If this is what it took to get over him, so be it. Putting her back to both Cain and the stream she set off back to the camp.
"DG, wait!" Cain stated, hastily rising and chasing after her.
Pressing the heel of her palm to the bridge of her nose she stopped walking and waited. It seemed that waiting was all she ever did when it came to Cain.
Suddenly his arms were wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder, his nose nuzzling at her neck. DG felt her heartbeat quicken as her body stiffened, completely taken off guard by the unexpected display of affection.
"Don't say that," he practically purred in her ear, his breath grazing over already sensitized flesh. His fingers moved in circles over her sides, dipping just beneath the hem of her shirt causing her to shudder from head to toe. "I feel more than you realize." Words failed her. Hell, rational thought failed her. "I need to have you in touching distance."
DG's chest was tight, his words activating her overused tear ducts.
"What're you doing?"
She felt the smile grace his features. "What do you think?" he asked as he placed a gentle kiss to her pulse point.
AN: Tickle that little button...and it'll tickle me pink!
