Titus Read online

  She’d knelt next to the bed, her heart pounding in her chest as she’d prayed she wouldn't kill him. Closing her eyes, she’d taken some deep breaths, reminding herself that he would most likely die anyway if she didn't intervene. His body had been too battered by the elements and his wound held a deep infection.

  When calmed, she’d laid one hand on his leg, and one on his forehead. As she’d channeled her energy inside him, she’d concentrated what she felt. Definitely dehydration, and fever from the infection. His systems had also seemed to be shutting down as his kidneys barely functioned and his heart beat irregularly.

  Something else had caught her attention—the energy inside of him. She’d gasped, recognizing the markers of an SR44 male.

  "What's wrong?" Justice had asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  She’d looked up at him. "He's not human. He's SR44ian."

  "Macy?" Alaina said, bringing her back into the present. "Are you okay?"

  She smiled and nodded, still finding it odd that Alaina had become one of her good friends. With her Colonist genes, Alaina represented everything Macy hated and feared, but somehow, the female had wormed her way into Macy's heart.

  "Where were you?" Alaina asked with a chuckle. "I can tell you it wasn't in this kitchen!"

  Macy grinned. "You're right. I was far away, my mind in another place and time."

  "You sure you're okay?" Abby asked, absently rubbing her swollen belly.

  Macy grabbed both their hands and grinned. "I'm wonderful. I have amazing friends like you who care about me."

  "You're so sweet." Alaina took her into a big embrace.

  They held each other for a moment, and then Abby spoke. "I'd like to join in but I'm afraid it's impossible with this belly."

  They laughed, and Macy stepped back from Alaina.

  "Should we get lunch on the table?" Abby asked.

  Alaina nodded, and Macy reached for a bowl. She made Titus a salad, then one for herself. She'd skipped breakfast and her stomach roared with hunger.

  "I'm going to go make sure Titus eats." She placed the bowls on a tray.

  "What's going on with you two?" Alaina asked.

  Macy's cheeks burned at the question, and she looked down as she grabbed the tray. "Titus is a sick male, and I'm a Healer. I'm tending to my patient."

  She didn't meet either woman's eyes as she hurried to the elevator, and she certainly didn’t want anyone to think that something was going on between her and the male. Frankly, he resided in such a bad place, a small jolt of surprise went through her each time she went to his quarters and found him alive.

  Chapter 3

  Titus gathered his hair back into a band and sighed as he pulled on his shorts. Working out was the last thing he wanted to do, but Blake tended to be a persistent bastard, not letting go until Titus agreed to join him in the gym. The last time he’d said no, Blake had called every five minutes, and when Titus had said no for the hundredth time, Blake had the power turned off to his quarters. Then he’d continued to call and tell Titus he would rot away in the dark until he met Blake in the gym.

  Over the past six months, the silo had been completely renovated. Holly, Justice’s significant other, had told Noah about something called a ‘catch-all,’ a place that most silos around the country had in case something went wrong with the missile all those years ago. Unbeknownst to Noah, the catch-all in his silo had been sealed off.

  Between the crew of Rescue One and the Saviors, there simply hadn't been enough room for everyone to live comfortably. They’d split the group in half—some going to the silo outside of Fernley, Nevada, the other half going to the safe house in the Phoenix area. Those left behind in the city—Noah and Abby, Blake, Sophia and Megan, and Hudson, Beverly, and Killian, and Macy and him—had been in charge of making sure the construction stayed on track. They’d also kept an eye on the Colonist offspring terrorizing the city. Well, he did little but stare at the walls; everyone else pitched in and took care of things.

  It had been cramped in the seven-thousand-square-foot home, but they had managed. However, when they came back to the renovated silo, Titus had never been so happy as to have his own space.

  He had been worthless at that time, and he continued to be. But still, he met Blake.

  They warmed up, Billy Idol screaming from the speakers. Blake claimed the pulsing beats and raggedy voice got him pumped up, but it only gave Titus a headache.

  "Ready to go, my man?" Blake yelled over the music.

  Titus nodded, not bothering to even try to talk over the noise.

  Blake pointed to the weight bench, and Titus sighed as he walked over and lay down. Closing his eyes, he wondered what Blake would do if he never rose again. Most likely, he would place an over-weighted barbell on his chest and watch until Titus struggled to finally lift it off. Blake did things like that, all in the name of helping someone.

  "Here we go." Blake loaded plates on. "Same amount as the day before yesterday. Let's do this, Titus!"

  If only he could muster half the enthusiasm Blake held.

  Blake stood behind him as he grasped the bar, lifting it out of its holder. He brought it down to his chest, thought about leaving it there and letting it crush his lungs, but then pushed it back up. He repeated the action ten times. Blake helped him set the barbell safety back in the holder.

  "Great job! You think you can do a little more?"

  Titus sat up and took stock of his arms and chest. They burned, but they didn't feel weak. "Yeah, I think so."

  As Blake loaded more weight on, Titus caught his reflection in the mirror across the gym.

  Dark eyes stared back at him, his long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail. His full mouth was set in a straight line—would he ever truly smile again? Despite his lack of excitement or caring about working out, his biceps bulged, and his stomach remained flat. How could someone look so put together on the outside, yet feel like such a hot mess on the inside?

  He shook his head.

  "What's up?" Blake asked.

  "Nothing."

  He stared at his reflection for a moment longer, then looked around the gym. One corner held Beverly’s medical gear for emergencies, while a couple of weight benches and a treadmill surrounded him in this area. Blue mats lined most of the floor, and another pile of them sat in the far corner.

  He had to admit, having his own quarters really proved to be better than sleeping on the mats. The Saviors had really helped him out, despite what he'd done in his time with the Platoon.

  "Why do you do this, Blake?"

  Blake's brow furrowed. He set down the plate and sat next to Titus on the bench.

  "Why do I do what?"

  "Why do you force me to come down here and make my life a living hell if I don't? Why do you put the effort into it?"

  Blake rubbed his hand over his head and looked around the gym. "When I went through my rough time, a lot of people around here stepped up and helped me get through it. I suppose I just figured it's my turn to help someone out—a pay-it-forward type of thing."

  Titus nodded. The thing that no one seemed to understand was that he didn't want help. He just wished everyone would leave him alone in his misery. Between Macy and the males of the house trying to keep him alive, he'd had quite enough of all their assistance.

  The door to the gym opened, and Nico walked in dressed in a tank top, shorts, and running shoes. He grinned as he approached. Titus held mixed feelings about him. The male had always proved to be very nice, but he couldn't help but think that if Nico had talked to Noah about taking him and Simon in, things would be much different. He wouldn’t constantly think about killing himself, and he wouldn’t feel the weight of this depression over him. Simon would be alive, and he would exist in the warmth of happiness they had shared.

  Instead, his mind and body resided in a cold, dark place.

  However, the Saviors never would have taken them in. His actions while with the Platoon had sealed his fate.

 
"Ready?" Nico asked.

  Blake nodded. "Yup. We're good to go."

  He glared at both of them, having the feeling he wouldn’t like where this conversation led.

  "Go where?"

  "We're going for a run through the desert," Nico answered.

  Titus shook his head. "No, I'm not."

  Blake stood up and stretched his hands over his head. "Yeah, you are. The three of us are."

  "No."

  Blake bent down so his face was level with Titus', just a couple inches separating them. The male had overdosed on the garlic croutons at lunch, and Titus grimaced.

  "If you don't go, I'll have Billy Idol piped into your room for forty-eight hours straight. Then, I'll stay in there with you, and you can watch me air guitar."

  He stood up and pretended to play the guitar, his face contorted. Titus couldn't help but smile, because he didn't look like a rock n' roller, but someone who seemed to be constipated.

  "So, what's it going to be, my man? A run, or my awesome rock n' roll skills?"

  Neither sounded appealing, but he chose the lesser of the two evils and stood. "Let's go."

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, Macy woke and stretched. She glanced around her quarters, once again so thankful that she lived in such a beautiful and safe place.

  When Noah had found out the silo did have a catch-all, he’d immediate ordered it renovated. It ran eight stories deep, and he'd had each floor remodeled into separate quarters for the crew of Rescue One, with a couple of spare bedrooms. She wasn't sure what they could be for, but Noah had said he wanted them "just in case." She didn't know if that meant he thought he'd find other SR44ians, and she'd never bothered to ask as she firmly believed those who resided here were the last of their kind.

  Noah had then decided to do some of the other parts of the silo, as well. He’d put up walls on a few of the floors, making room for nurseries, and also gave Megan and Killian their own rooms on the floors of their respective parents. He’d knocked down a few walls in the community living areas, making it easier for all of them to gather for meals and socializing, and expanded the War Room to accommodate all those who fought against the Colonists and their offspring.

  When they could finally move in, Macy had cried at her living space. The dark hardwood flooring complimented the light-taupe walls, and she loved huddling in her king-sized bed under her light blue comforter that reminded her of the sky.

  Her bathroom consisted of white marble with black faucets, and since landing on Earth, she felt safe, secure, and she finally relaxed. It was so different than her small space at the bunker.

  It had surprised her how well she and the crew of Rescue One fit in with the Saviors. At first, she'd experienced some animosity toward them because she had believed they had completed their mission and sent for the rescue. They hadn't, and she’d felt betrayed. However, if she hadn't come, she would have died along with her family and friends. Even in her deepest times of grief, gratitude emerged that she still lived.

  A knock sounded at her door, and she rose from the bed and grabbed her robe.

  "Come in!"

  Roman entered, and her cheeks heated.

  "How're things going, Macy?"

  Devastatingly handsome, Roman made her blush every time he spoke to her. They’d had a brief, secret affair while living in the bunker. It had been difficult sneaking around, but no one had ever found out that they slept together, or "knocked boots," as she'd heard Blake say.

  "I'm well, thank you. What can I do for you?"

  He glanced around the room. "I was a little beat up last night on patrol. I was wondering if my favorite Healer would use her special abilities on me?"

  She studied his tanned skin, dark eyes, and the slight smirk on his full mouth, remembering the way the scruff on his chiseled jaw and cheeks used to rub against her face when they kissed. A couple of times, it had also chafed against her thighs as he did wonderfully naughty things to her with his tongue.

  "Why don't you go see Cohen?"

  He grinned. "Because he's not my favorite. You are."

  How could she say no to that wicked smile?

  That night in the bunker when sleep eluded her and he found her in their garden, she hadn't wanted to say no to him. Their relationship had consisted of two very lonely people who needed someone else to physically hold on to, if even for stolen periods of time.

  "Please, lie down on the bed."

  He did as told, and she wondered if her pillows and sheets would smell of him when she finished.

  Kneeling down next to the bed and laying her hands on his stomach and forehead, she concentrated on placing her energy within him. Once there, he merged with her, and she studied the damage he'd sustained last night.

  A couple of cracked ribs and some bruising, but nothing terribly serious. She mended the ribs and tended to the bruises, both internally and externally. When finished, she sat back on her heels and opened her eyes. Roman's heated gaze warmed her from the inside.

  He held out his hand, and she placed hers in it. He squeezed, then sat up, pulling her into a standing position with him.

  "Thank you, Macy," he murmured into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

  She sighed as she grasped his waist. Yes, Roman and she had been lovers—something she never fully understood—but in the end, she knew there would never be anything lasting between them.

  "How are you holding up, Roman?"

  He sighed and kissed her forehead. Then, he let go of her and sat down on the bed again.

  "I'm doing okay. I'm still in mourning for my family, as I'm sure you are, but it seems that every day gets a little easier."

  She sat down to him and nodded. "Yes, it does."

  "I met a female."

  She arched her eyebrows, surprised that not even a kernel of jealousy emerged. "Who is she?"

  He shrugged. "When we patrol, we sometimes hang out in the clubs. Afterward, we like to meet up for a drink or two. Her name was Roxanne."

  She couldn't help the smirk that crossed her lips. "That's a sexy name."

  He nodded. "She was a sexy female."

  "What happened?"

  "She said she really liked me. She kept touching me, running her hands through my hair, and kissing my neck."

  "And?"

  "And she asked me to go home with her."

  Macy grabbed his hand, the curiosity eating away at her. "What happened then? Did you have sexual relations?"

  "No. Jovan stopped me from leaving with her."

  Confusion tore through her, and a little bit of anger. What business was it of Jovan's?

  "Why did he do that?"

  He sighed. "Because she was a prostitute, Macy. She wanted me to pay to have sex with her."

  She could see the bewilderment and shame in his face.

  "That never occurred to me. I thought she liked me for me, not because she thought she could get money out of me. When will I learn all the ways of the humans?"

  Squeezing his hand, she wished she had an answer for him, but she didn't. However, she sent out silent thanks that Jovan had been there to stop him, to help him.

  "I don't know, Roman. We should just be happy that we don't have to try to assimilate into this world by ourselves, that we have the Saviors here to help us."

  He nodded. "I agree. It just feels like when I think I know all there is to know, a human does something I don't understand and it throws me for a loop. It makes me wonder if I'll ever be able to fully function in this world normally."

  He described a feeling she had often, but had never put into words. However, she tended to look on the bright side of things, and tried to make those around her see the light.

  "Roman, we'll be fine. We're intelligent creatures, and yes, the humans are unpredictable, but we'll figure it out. Sometimes, as I listen to Alaina or Abby, I think they feel the same way about their race. According to them, humans always have been, and will most likely always be, erratic in their behavior. I
mean, look at Blake."

  She raised her eyebrows as he met he gaze.

  He burst out laughing. "Yes, he can be a strange one."

  "Exactly. But, like I said, we're very fortunate to be in the position we're in. We are among our own people, yet they are very schooled in the ways of the humans. We can learn a lot from them and thrive on this planet, just as they do."

  He gazed at her for a long while. "Thank you, Macy. You are always so kind to others. You may be small and fragile, but your spirit is so strong. I feel much better having talked to you."

  She squeezed his hand. "Anytime."

  He stood. "I need to go—Noah's called a meeting in the War Room."

  "What about?"

  Roman shrugged. "Nothing to be concerned about. Just Warrior stuff."

  As he left, sadness washed through her. Yes, she did seem to be everyone's sounding board, but she had trouble confiding in others. Sometimes, she wished she had someone to talk to, someone with whom to share her feelings. What would Alaina say if she wanted to talk about her family, her life on SR44, and how confusing humans seemed to be? She could never approach Abby as she had become so preoccupied with the baby that would come at any time.

  She thought of the SR44ian females in the house. Liberty had always been sweet, but often busy on some new adventure that drove Jovan crazy. Sophia seemed so happy that Macy hated to bring her problems to her, especially after everything the female had been through. Annis had been rightfully consumed with her new son, Michael.

  After waiting a few more minutes, she dressed quickly. One thing she had noticed—not much of what was discussed in the War Room was shared with the females of the house. This worried her, but she'd found a way around it without asking a lot of questions.

  She took the elevator to the main floor and hurried through the kitchen, glad she didn't run into anyone.

  She stepped through the first door leading to the outside, then shut it behind her. Sinking to the floor, she placed her head next to the vent.

  A few months ago, she'd found it by accident. She'd been on her way outside and had dropped some of the plants she and Sophia were using in the garden. As she picked them up, she’d heard the meeting in the War Room, clear as day. Now, she eavesdropped whenever she got the chance. She'd once heard the saying, "knowledge is power," and she intended to know everything that went on when it came to the mayhem outside their safe world in the silo.