RecruitZ (Afterworld Series) by Karice Bolton Page B

glimpse of those buildings on the way here?”
    “The ones that you almost blinded me over with your high beams?” I laughed. “Yeah. I saw ‘em. Are they old water towers or what?”
    “Something like that.” He opened the door for me, and the flood of music and sounds of conversation wrapped around me.
    I glanced over at the bar and saw my friend, Baily. She waved at me and noticed Preston standing behind me, her face lighting up.
    I pointed at a corner booth and she nodded.
    “Over there okay?” I asked Preston.
    “That’d be great.”
    We walked past full tables as people rehashed the day’s events, and all I wanted to do was forget them. I slid in the booth just as Baily came over with two menus.
    “Greyhound?” she asked.
    “Yes, please. A double.”
    “That great of a day, huh?” she teased, turning to take in Preston. “What can I get for you?” Her eyes fell to Preston’s mouth, and I watched his reaction as she ate him up. He didn’t seem to notice or care—maybe both.
    “I’ll take whatever your specialty is,” he said.
    “Okay. One Lame Brain coming up,” she said, laughing.
    Preston’s jaw tensed and he nodded. “Sounds fine by me.”
    She turned around and headed for the bar.
    “I wonder how long places will insist on naming everything after zombies?” Preston asked, spinning the coaster in front of him.
    “I’d say at least a decade,” I laughed.
    He nodded in agreement and glanced back at the bar.
    “Her name’s Baily,” I offered. “And she’s single.”
    He brought his attention back to me and grinned. “Am I supposed to care?” he asked.
    “I just figured,” I said, shrugging.
    “How about you?” he asked, his brow arching. “You single?”
    My heart started pounding. I hadn’t expected the line of questioning to shift to me. I shook my head.
    “And he let you go to this thing tonight alone?” Preston’s voice lowered as he leaned in closer. “Or did you not tell him. That seems like something you’d do.”
    “It’s not like that,” I said, shaking my head and dismissing his questions.
    He shifted back in the booth as Baily brought the drinks over.
    “Then what is it like? What are you searching for?” he asked, sipping his drink. He cringed as he swallowed it, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
    “The old standbys aren’t looking so bad now, are they?” I laughed, sipping my grapefruit vodka mixture.
    He wiped his mouth and returned his gaze to me. “I saw something in you that night you landed in my bar. Something that scared me—”
    “Ha,” I said, louder than I expected. I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about.
    “Scared me for your safety ,” he corrected. “I get the sense that you don’t think you have anything to lose. And that type of thinking is the most dangerous.”
    “How so?” I narrowed my eyes.
    “Because if you’re not afraid of getting killed, it leads to carelessness.”
    “Everyday is a great day to die. I’d rather embrace the inevitable, do what I need to do rather than…”
    “That doesn’t sound like a woman who’s thinking of her partner,” he interrupted, his voice calm but determined as his eyes focused on mine. “It sounds like a woman hell-bent on revenge.”
    “I think of my husband every single second of every single day,” I replied coldly. “But that’s all I can do is think of him. Because he’s dead. Now why did you demand I have a drink with you tonight. What was it you were so worried about me exposing in the arena today?” I glared at him as I awaited his answer.
    “Me,” he replied simply.

 
     
     
    “Trust isn’t something you hand out freely, Rebekah. I understand that,” Preston said, his eyes fastened on mine. “But I’m begging you to trust me.”
    “Why should I?” I asked, picking at the chips that Baily delivered to our table. “What’s in it for me?”
    Preston dipped his head as he thought about his answer. I wondered what was so hard about that