Between the Thorns
Chapter 38
Carol rolled onto her side, collapsing into her pillow as she waited for her heart to stop beating like a caged bird inside her chest. Ezekiel turned, shadowing her movements and tucking his body in behind hers. Carol allowed herself to enjoy the moment. His lean muscular body was covered in the softest skin she'd ever touched. And his breath ghosting over the back of her neck felt like heaven. He wrapped one strong arm around her, catching her hand in his and rubbing his thumb softly back and forth across her palm.
The last time Carol had sex, it was with her husband. Ed. She hated to even think of the man, let alone his name. And sex with him was never anything like the act she just experienced. It was difficult to even use it as a basis of comparison. Whatever his motives, Ezekiel was invested in her pleasure. He played her body like a finely tuned instrument, making wave after wave of pleasure course through her. When he finally took her, she was all but begging for it. She forgot about Alexandria and the prison and even the outbreak itself. Nothing existed outside their small bubble of passion. But now that her physical high was winding down, Carol's worries and fears began to creep back in, invading her conscious thoughts and pushing away the small cloud of bliss she was floating on. She couldn't let herself get attached to anyone. It would only end in death. Either Ezekiel would die. Or she would kill to save him. Either way, someone's life would end because of her. Carol thought about Daryl, wondering if she should have left with him when he asked. Maybe the saviors army was the best place for her. At least there she could put her talents to some sort of use.
"Where are you going?," Ezekiel asked, his voice thick as he was pulled back from the edge of sleep. "Come back to bed," he suggested, reaching across the small space and catching her hand in his. Carol smiled a little despite herself, noticing that the fake accent and renaissance colloquialisms he usually favored had suddenly disappeared. He was half asleep and probably too tired to make such an effort. Then she pulled her hand away from his.
"I'm not going anywhere," Carol said, forcing the harshness in her tone. She liked him. A lot. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. But Carol quickly reminded herself that this was for his own good. "I'm getting dressed," Carol barked. "And you should too. Because it's time for you to leave." Carol turned her back to him as she pulled her shirt down over her head. She didn't want him to see the emotion flickering across her features.
"Huh?," Ezekiel grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Leaving? Where are we going?" He moved across the bed, the blanket dragging down to reveal his bare chest. He reached over, catching Carol's hand in his again. "I'm not going anywhere without my queen," he teased as he pulled her back towards the bed. Carol yanked her hand away, using more force than necessary.
"I'm not your queen," she hissed. Carol choked back the emotions that were bubbling up inside her. She closed her eyes, willing them away and praying that Ezekiel would leave. Just leave. Please don't argue with me anymore and just get out. "Please leave." Carol pointed towards the door of her cabin, her hand steady even though she was shaking on the inside. She looked at the door. Then down at her feet. Anything to avoid seeing the look of heartbreak and devastation on Ezekiel's face.
"If that's what you really want," he said. "...then I'll go." Carol's only answer was her back as she turned it towards him, busing herself by stoking up the small fire in her hearth even though she'd already banked it well. She stayed there until Ezekiel dressed and crossed the room, resting his hand on her shoulder.
"My offer still stands," he told her. "Whenever you're ready." He headed for the door, closing it softly behind him without waiting for her to respond. Carol sat back on her butt, bumping her tailbone against the hard wooden planks of the floor. She tried not to think about the way Ezekiel kneeled down in the same spot she was sitting in, taking her hand and spouting off the most eloquent and beautiful marriage proposal she'd ever heard. It was like something from a Jane Austen novel. Carol didn't say yes. But she pulled him up onto his feet and let him take her to bed.
A strangled sob escaped her as Carol buried her face in her hands. She ground her tears away with her fists, lifting the hem of her shirt to wipe her face when there were too many tears to clear away with only her hands. Carol sat cross legged on the floor, forcing herself to take slow even breaths until her emotions were back under her control. It took longer than she expected. And for the first time, she found herself really questioning her decision to lock herself away from the world.
A knock on the door had Carol up and back on her feet in seconds. Her heart leaped in her chest as she pulled the door open, stopping mid motion to keep herself from running into the arms of a total stranger. The man standing on the small covered porch of her cabin in the fading light was most certainly not Ezekiel. Carol was quite sure she'd never seen him before. He was tall with a fading hairline and a bushy mustache. The overly friendly smile he offered her made her skin crawl. And as Carol smiled back, she racked her brain trying to remember where she'd set her gun down when she and Ezekiel stripped their clothes off and headed for the small squeaky bed in the corner of her living room.
"Can I help you with something?," she asked, her tone dripping with fake concern. The man smiled again, stepping forward into the doorway.
"I'm a friend of Daryl's," he said. "He asked me to stop by and see if you needed anything." Carol narrowed her eyes at the man, trying to decide if she believed his story. It was possible that Daryl asked someone to come by and check on her. Normally, Daryl would ask her permission before doing something like that. But it was possible he got called away from the area and didn't get the chance.
"I'm doing just fine here," Carol said. "But thanks for checking in." She gripped the edge of the door, preparing to close it. But before she could, the man stepped inside. He looked around, observing the place with casual interest. Carol turned, spotting her gun on the coffee table in front of her couch. Unfortunately, the man was between her and her weapon. Carol pressed forward, trying to keep her movements slow. The man didn't seem to view her as a threat. No one ever did. Carol was always able to use that to her advantage. She took a shallow breath. One more step and the gun would be in her hands. Leaning down, she reached for it. But just before her hand closed over her weapon, the man twisted, snatching it up from under her grasp. He laughed as he held it up in front of him, teasing her like an older child might tease a younger one with a stolen toy.
"Ah ah ah," the man teased, holding up his finger and ticking it back and forth. Carol wasn't expecting it when he swung, clocking her in the side of her head with her own gun. She felt him lifting her in the air, tossing her over his shoulder like she weighed no more than a child. She struggled to stay conscious despite the horrible pounding in her head. But by the time she felt the man shut the trunk of his car after unceremoniously stuffing her into it, she sunk down into the darkness.
