The Believers (The Breeders Series - Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

rodents and snakes, you mean.”
    He nods, smirking. “Lately I been feelin' pretty rodent-like. Yesterday I got a craving for cheese.”
    I laugh. “That's funny. I had a craving for anything .”
    He chuckles and digs around the edge of the bandage on his injured hand. The bandage is fraying, the white gauze now the dirty brown like everything else. There's a long pause as we both look out toward the road and the orange light spilling over the desert.
    “Are we okay?” he asks, breaking the silence. “I mean, you and me?”
    There's uncertainty in his eyes. It's funny how things have changed. Before the hospital, it was me speculating on what he was thinking and what he might want. Me longing for him but never being able to have him. The tide has turned. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
    I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through his. “We're together.” I look up at him, my heart pounding, awash in a love that surges through me. “That’s all I ever wanted.” I drape my arms around his neck and he wraps his around my waist. Being this close sets my heart to galloping away.
    Clay shrugs. “I just wanna make you happy.” He looks out at the sand-swept highway and shakes his head. “As happy as I can, considerin'. I wish I could make this all go away.”
    I press my cheek to his chest. “We gotta get to a town and Rayburn can barter for a truck and gas. Those meds of his are worth enough to get us home. In the meantime, you gotta trust that you and me are fine.” I lift my head and look into his eyes. “Okay?”
    His blue eyes look deeply into mine. “Okay.”
    Then he's kissing me. Kissing me, kissing me, kissing me. And his hands are under my shirt and my heart is tearing through my chest as his fingers inch upward.
    I push away.
    He drops his hands, his eyes on the ground. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He pushes up and limps back through the door.
    “Clay,” I say, but I let him go. First watch it is. It'll give me time to torture myself about all the things I've done wrong.
    ***
    In my dream I'm lying on the desert floor. I can't move. Above, vultures circle like pinwheels of death. The need to get away is fierce, but nothing I do makes my limbs work. I open my mouth to scream, but all that comes out is a gasp. One of the big black birds dives down, boring its beak into the flesh below my ribs.
    The pain. It drags me out of my sleep. Yet, something hard still presses into my stomach.
    A raspy voice breathes in my ear. “Make a noise, you filthy half-man, and I'll fill your belly with holes.”
    I snap up, awake and terrified. It's mid-day. I've fallen asleep during watch, my body slumped against the wall. A large man leans over me, grips my hair with one hand, and presses a gun into my stomach with the other. His eyes are huge, round and shiny like a doll’s, but then I realize he's wearing goggles, the kind the drivers wear to keep dust out of their eyes. The rest of his face is shaded by some sort of straw hat. Half a dozen gold chains dangle from his neck. He looks like a clown or those fashion ladies I’ve seen on pages of old magazines.
    I pull back, terror raging through me. He jabs the gun barrel hard into my ribs, huffing the air out of my lungs. I gasp.
    “Don't move!” he whisper-shouts. Behind him three large men slip into the diner, guns drawn.
    “Clay!” I claw upright, my fingers digging into the wall.
    He hits me with a sharp backhand across the face. Blood floods my mouth. I shake my head and keep screaming. “Ethan, Clay! They got guns!” Noise from inside. A scream. Oh, God .
    He shoves a dirty hand over my mouth to silence me, banging my head back into the wall. I thrash back and forth, lose his hand and scream. “Mam—”
    His hands go for my throat. He pins me to the wall, the window ledge digging into my skull. I claw at his giant hands, trying to breathe, trying to scream. He shoves me harder into the wall and the plaster crumbles around me. He’s big: barrel chested,