Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,45

only used for business meetings. After I handed them out, Jacob grabbed my waist and guided me to the chair between him and Huxley. I briefly worried about what Huxley would think about our nearness, but I wanted to provide comfort to him while Jules was there. Huxley seemed disinterested in what I was doing; all his attention was placed menacingly on Jules and Josiah.

“What brings you here, Josiah? I thought I’d be retrieving the next wave of Walkers at the wedding,” Cyler asked.

Josiah looked pointedly at me, then turned to answer his question. “Since you were attacked, I thought it would be honorable to replenish your Walkers. Our alliance is crucial to me. I also wanted to tour your quaint, little village.” He took a big bite of the cookie and groaned.

“Oh, Ash,” he said with a full mouth. “This cookie is the second most delicious thing I’ve tasted today.” He licked his lips, and I blushed at what he suggested. His obvious affections were completely unlike his usual controlled behavior.

“Did you all miss me?” Jules affectionately asked while glaring at Jacob. He had snaked his arm around me protectively and pulled me closer, almost yanking me out of my chair and onto his lap. He seemed to want to hurt Jules, but I felt used, and the emotional whiplash made tears sprinkle the corner of my eyes.

Once again, everyone seemed to ignore her, including Josiah. I felt suffocated by tension. Having a full understanding of what transpired between everyone made the entire situation that much more intense.

“If you’ll just excuse me. I think I need a nap.” I prayed that none of them begged me to stay. “Kemper and I toured the Walker housing, and it left me quite tired,” I explained while standing up. Jacob looked at me with sad, but understanding, eyes. I didn’t want to disappoint him, but the confusion I felt was too much.

I didn’t want to feel used. I didn’t want to feel like a dirty secret. I wanted space. While walking towards my room, massive steps followed behind me, and I turned with a sigh.

Surprisingly, Huxley stood there looking unsure. “Can we talk?” he asked.

“Sure.” I didn’t feel like being scolded, but this was their house. I led him to my room. He looked around while I removed my shoes and piled my thick hair up on top of my head.

My room had changed some since first moving there. I had set up a small, art corner full of the supplies that Cyler got me, and I’d filled the walls with some of the sketches and paintings I’d made over the past couple days. Huxley’s large frame openly observing my work made me uncomfortable. Still, he remained silent. I sat on the bed, waiting for him to explain why he wanted to talk.

His hand crushed into a fist, and when he released it, I saw that his nails had dug into his skin, breaking it and causing it to bleed.

“I almost killed my best friend because of her,” he growled in a low voice. “Her unexpectedly showing up puts a lot of pressure on all of us. I just wanted to say thank you for keeping Jacob calm. He may be hurt, but ultimately, I think she scares him. I think he doesn’t believe that we still chose him over her.” His face looked like he’d rather choke on thorns than say ‘thank you’ to me, but I remained quiet and allowed him to continue.

“I just wanted to say that, it’s not an act. You comfort Jacob. He’s . . . calmer when you’re around. And he needs someone to make him feel secure in his place with us, here.” Huxley looked around the room and avoided making eye contact with me.

“Huxley,” I began. I tried not to choke on the sob that rose up in my throat. “Josiah has become more desperate since the last time I saw him. It concerns me.” Admitting it out loud made the tears I wanted to keep at bay roll freely down my cheeks. How could what I’ve always wanted, make me so sad?

I knew that if anyone knew how dangerous desperation could be, it was Huxley. He was still struggling with the guilt that Jules’ irrational thinking left behind.

“The fact that he’s here shows that he’s getting sloppy and letting his responsibilities crack,” Huxley seemed to think out loud. “Cyler told us that you and he had a history. I think you need to