Love and Decay by Rachel Higginson Page A

for starting this, for not being able to keep
his stupid mouth shut. There had always been something between the
two of them and Santi had never backed down or learned when to stay
silent.
    But it was Miller that sucked up most of my
emotions. Sure, I was mad at him. He should know better than to let
Santi goad him. He should have realized Santi was trying to push
every one of his buttons. But I was also confused.
    Just like that, Miller had snapped from
overwhelming light to murky darkness. One of my favorite moments
ever had been tainted by this ugliness.
    I couldn’t reconcile these two halves of
Miller. I couldn’t find the light in this darkness. Just like
seconds ago there were no traces of darkness in his blinding
brightness.
    I stepped back when they rolled closer to me.
Hendrix tried to jump in and he got elbowed in the nose. Blood
spurted everywhere and my brother loosed curse words I hadn’t heard
him speak in a very long time.
    I should have stayed until my brothers got
this sorted out. I should have at least stuck around to see if they
needed my help. But I couldn’t stomach it.
    And watching Miller give into that darkness
he claimed he hated so much, made me question everything. If he
hated it… if he fought to contain it so valiantly, then why was he
rolling around in the dirt punching the living daylights out of one
of our allies?
    I turned around and walked away.
    Maybe this was the reason I’d wanted to go
slowly.
    Maybe I wasn’t as afraid of my emotions as I
was of Miller’s.

Chapter Two
     
    I found solace at the bottom of a tequila
bottle.
    Just kidding. My brothers would have murdered
me. But I was offered post-apocalyptic, moonshine tequila from one
of Diego’s skeezy looking henchmen. The offer was complete with a
wink, a slow slide of the tongue across his bottom lip and a
catcall in Spanish.
    While I tried to decide whether to laugh or
punch him, Diego slapped him on the back of the head. The soldier
shrugged unapologetically and continued to grin lasciviously at
me.
    I turned around and headed for the first
familiar face I could find. I had no intention of leading Diego’s
guy on and I was pretty confident Diego had warned all his men to
stay away from the single women in our traveling party, but I also
didn’t want Miller, the Rage Machine, to turn his fury on innocent
perverts either.
    It was one thing for him to fight Santi after
being goaded. It was another thing entirely to start a war with the
Mexican territories.
    “Rough day?” Adela asked as I plopped down
next to her.
    She had taken refuge next to the skeleton of
a building. Her back leaned against a half wall, demolished and
surrounded by debris. And her long legs stretched out in front of
her, catching the sun from the knee down.
    It was cool in the shade and the chill crept
over my arms and thighs as I sat on the cold concrete. I looked out
at our camp and tried not to feel sorry for myself. The scientists
huddled in close community, pouring over the notes they’d taken at
Diego’s compound. Diego’s men stood idly together, too, one eye on
the dwindling fight and one eye on the rest of the world. Guns sat
at their hips and blades stayed strapped to their backs. I shook
away grim thoughts of Miller and decided I was glad they were with
us.
    Even if it was only temporary.
    “I don’t understand men,” I confessed to
Adela.
    Her hand landed on my knee. “You and me
both.”
    I turned to face her, hoping for some sage
wisdom, but her attention was fixed elsewhere. When I followed her
gaze, I still couldn’t figure out what she was looking at.
    “Do they always act like jackasses? Or do
they eventually grow out of that stage?”
    She smiled, even though it was distant. “If
they grow out of it, I haven’t seen it.” Her accent made her words
more expressive and lilting, but her tone remained melancholy.
    We fell into thoughtful silence for a few
minutes. I didn’t know how to explain my frustrations or