Chapter 39: Jealous

Ray pulled off his dark combat jacket and draped it over May’s shoulders.

Once that was done he turned, his tall frame blocking her completely from view. Those deep, cold eyes swept across every person present—from Mitch to Theo, and finally to Ace, who had just crawled back from the edge of death.

"Listen carefully." His voice was low and rough, carrying absolute authority that left no room for argument. "Everything that happened inside this cabin today—especially whatever she took out earlier—" He paused. His gaze flicked to the blood still staining the corner of May’s lips. "—is her secret."

One hand rested on the combat knife at his waist. Killing intent rolled in the depths of his eyes.

"Even if the day comes when zombies tear out your throats, or some other camp skins you alive, that secret dies with you. It stays buried in your bones."

"Anyone who lets slip even half a word... you won’t have to wait for someone else to finish you. I’ll send you on your way myself."

...

Not long after, Ace’s body healed in a way that completely defied science.

The hideous, gaping wound in his chest vanished without a trace. New skin grew smooth and flawless; not even a faint scar remained. If the blood-soaked combat uniform with its massive hole weren’t still lying on the floor, everyone would have sworn the entire life-or-death crisis had been nothing more than a nightmare.

The pure joy of surviving didn’t last long. A far more complicated emotion quickly took its place.

The men crowded around the restored Ace, poking his arms and pinching his legs, expressions ranging from shock to something far less pure.

"Fuck... it’s really all healed?"

Mitch stared at Ace’s smooth chest, then glanced down at the scraped skin on his own arm. A sour feeling rose in his gut.

"Ace, you look... even more energetic than before you got hurt."

Alex circled him twice. His gaze drifted, almost casually, toward May still curled in the corner. The look in his eyes was full of meaning.

Jack scratched the back of his head, his honest face filled with open envy. "That’s great. Really great."

In that moment, the air inside the cabin turned so sour it could have pickled vegetables.

Why wasn’t I the one who jumped in front of that claw?

Ray’s face remained dark. Without a word, he walked to the warehouse entrance and kicked a rusty metal cabinet with a thunderous clang that shook every private thought out of the men’s heads.

"All of you just standing around like pillars? Bored out of your fucking minds?"

His eyes swept the group. "Move every scrap of food left in that supermarket over here. We’re eating well tonight. Seal every entrance. We’re stuck here until morning."

"Got it, Boss!"

The sheer relief of still being alive overpowered everything else. The men whooped and charged toward the nearby convenience store, their steps light with the joy of having clawed something back from death.

Within minutes, the warehouse emptied.

Half an hour later only Ray and May—who was still trying to shrink into the corner and erase her own presence—remained.

The air thickened instantly.

Ray kept his back to her, the pressure of his silence almost physical.

Just when she thought he intended to treat her like empty space, the man spun around.

Three long strides brought him right in front of her. His tall shadow swallowed her completely. She instinctively tried to retreat, only for her back to hit the cold metal wall. Nowhere left to go.

He didn’t speak.

He bent down, braced both arms on either side of her body, and locked her into the narrow space between himself and the wall.

Again? Boss, is this the only move you know? Can’t you switch positions for once?

May roasted him mercilessly in her head, yet on the surface she wore the face of a startled little deer, eyes watery and timid as they looked up at him.

Ray’s gaze never settled on her eyes.

It slid slowly across her lips—still faintly stained with blood. Those lips still seemed to carry another man’s temperature and scent.

The thought alone set a nameless fire burning in his chest.

He raised a hand.

Calloused fingertips, rough and unyielding, brushed across the soft corner of her mouth. The motion wasn’t gentle. It was almost rough—like he was wiping away something dirty.

"Your mouth," the man finally said, every word forced out between clenched teeth. "Is it free for any half-dead bastard who needs saving?"

May’s mind detonated like a bomb had been dropped inside it.

Is he... being jealous right now?

She could feel the thin calluses on his fingertip scraping lightly, repeatedly, over the tender skin at the corner of her lips. This wasn’t a question. It was a form of punishment disguised as intimacy.

"I... I didn’t..." Her voice trembled—whether from fear or something else, she couldn’t tell. "It was only to save him..."

"Save him?" Ray let out a cold laugh and leaned even closer. His scorching breath nearly spilled into her mouth. "So if I’m the one dying someday, do I also get that kind of ’rescue’?"

As he spoke, his burning gaze stayed locked on her lips, as if the next second he might lean in and verify for himself whether the taste matched what Ace had experienced.

May’s heart hammered so hard it threatened to climb out of her throat.

At that exact razor-edge moment, Mitch’s booming voice crashed in from outside.

"Fuck! What the hell are you two doing in there? Stop dragging your feet! We’re waiting on you to eat!"

Ray’s body stiffened. The dark storm in his eyes vanished in an instant. He turned and strode out without another word.

May leaned against the wall. Her legs gave out and she nearly slid to the floor. She touched the corner of her mouth—still red from his rough fingertips, still carrying the faint scent of tobacco and the texture of his skin.

Damn, he can be so scary sometimes. But that... was so intense. I kind of liked it...