Fire in the Woods (9 page)

“We thought he headed south, deeper into the woods, but a camp was just found less than two miles from here.”

David’s camp?

Dad took a deep breath. “Tomorrow there will be a calculated news leak. We’re going to tell the public that he’s out there, and he has an infectious disease. We’re counting on the general public to turn him in.”

Holy shi…Crap. A bead of sweat trailed down my inner-arm. “
Does he
have an infectious disease?”

My father stared at me. How could a man’s eyes be so completely devoid of emotion? What had the Army done to him?

“Dad, this is crazy. That camp could have been nothing…just kids playing around.”

“It wasn’t. They found…”

Finish that sentence. Please, please, please finish that sentence.

He sighed, and for the first time I could remember, his eyes seemed to soften. “Jess, I need you to do this for me. I’m not coming back any time soon. I can’t focus on my target if I’m worried about you.”

How could I say no? And I really needed to get him out of there, since he was pretty much sitting on top of the guy he might be looking for. I nodded, lowering my eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

If anything happened to me?
A shiver weaseled up my spine. He left, closing the door behind him.

The darkness hovered around me, heightening the pressure in my chest. What was going on? My mind numbed, blotting out the thought of a plane ride beside grandma and her dumb crossword puzzles.

I sat there, lost, until the bed jostled beneath me. “Oh! David. Come on out.” I jumped up, flipped on the light, and twisted the lock on the door.

David shimmied out from under my bed. I brushed a dust-bunny out of his hair.

He looked toward the door. His beautifully sculpted chest pressed against Dad’s sweatshirt with every breath. “Your father is in the Army?”

“Yeah.”

David rubbed his arms and continued to stare at the door.

“Don’t worry. He won’t come back unless I scream again.”

My comforter barely budged as he settled on my mattress. My heart jumped into my throat and choked me. If Dad ever caught a boy sitting on my bed—I shook away my stupidity. I had a story to focus on.

“David, why are they hunting you?”

He lowered his gaze. “I guess because I’m different.”

Or sick with a disease they don’t understand
.

The implications sunk deep within. Whatever the
different
was, the Army was involved. Dad knew what was going on, and it scared the crap out of him.

David was a military target. I was standing there talking to public enemy number one, and for all I knew, this guy was the key to Pandora’s box.

I reeled in my flight reflex. I wasn’t getting ill, so he wasn’t contagious, and David totally scored brownie points for not trying to kill me. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t in any danger. I trusted David, and I needed to hear what he had to say.

“Different, huh? How different?”

He lifted his gaze to me. Turquoise. I bet those eyes weren’t contacts. It had to be some kind of lab experiment gone wrong or something stupid like that. I prepared for the worst, but what kind of threat could this sweet, timid guy possibly pose?

“I’m very different. I think you know that.”

His lashes fluttered, as if drawing me in, yet keeping me from seeing what was really inside. That’s what I wanted more than anything else, though—to see inside. To really know what was going on. Why wouldn’t he let me in?

I guess he had no reason to trust me. We’d only just met. Then again, he was sitting in my bedroom. On my bed. With the guy who was searching for him just down the hall. Come to think of it, was he stupid or something? Did he want to get caught?

“David, why did you come back here?”

His head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

“You snuck into my room in the middle of the night. You freaked me out and almost gave my dad a coronary.”

“Sorry.” He hunched his shoulders. “It started to get cold. I got scared. I didn’t think. I didn’t mean for you to get into trouble.”

Could he get any sweeter? Fugitive my left butt cheek. This guy wasn’t a threat to a fly let alone a nation.

“I’m not in trouble yet, but if my dad catches you in here, we’re both in deep shi…well, we’d be in big trouble.”

He glanced toward the door again. “You have no idea.”

But I’d like to have an idea. How did reporters normally handle this? Badger the witness? Beat the info out of him? What did I have to do to find out what was going on?

David stood and stretched his arms behind his neck. His biceps nearly split the stitching in dad’s sweatshirt. He glanced in the direction of the door again. The light in the hallway went out.

Safe at last—for the time being, at least.

“So,” he whispered. “I guess you could say I met your father. Where’s your mom?”

“Umm…she, umm…” Boy, did that catch me off guard. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t form the words. Why was I afraid to say it out loud? It’d been over a year now. It was bad enough Dad wasn’t dealing with it. One of us had to face the truth. “She’s dead. My mom is dead.”

David flinched. “Oh. I’m sorry.” His gaze fell to the floorboards. “My mother is dead, too. It happened while I was pretty young.”

I jolted in surprise. “Really? How young?”

His gaze returned to me. “I was only a kid. I’m not really sure.”

The sadness in his eyes nearly matched the ache in my heart. “Do you remember her?”

“Yes, I remember her. I think of her every day just to make sure I don’t forget.”

Okay, so I guess it’s safe to say he’s not a clone, or a fabricated human, or a robot or…Shoot. Who cares who he is? He was finally opening up to me, and opening up easier than I ever had about something so personal.

Had I thought of Mom every day? Maybe at first. But less and less. My stomach churned.

“It was my fault,” David continued. “She died because of me.”

I sat beside him, crossing my legs. “What do you mean?”

“She was coming to retrieve me from the play center. I asked her to stay later.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “If we had left on time, she’d be alive right now.”

I placed my hand on his arm. “Wow. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“No? Tell my father that.”

The fire in his eyes chilled me to the toes. My stomach knotted, poking me from inside. I knew all too well how he felt.

“My Mom and I were in the car when it happened. I don’t even remember the crash. I woke up in a hospital.” Painful memories flooded me. The antiseptic smell, the beep of the machine by my bed, the vacant expression on Dad’s face. “I’ve never been a hundred percent sure my father didn’t blame me, although he’s never come out and said it. He’s been different ever since.”

“How so?”

“He doesn’t really laugh anymore. We used to play a lot together, and now he’s all business.”

I closed my eyes. My mind wandered back to my mother’s funeral—Dad sitting on the bench, staring at Mom’s open coffin. “He never cried. He just sat there at attention the whole time, staring at nothing. And ever since, he won’t even talk about her. It’s like he doesn’t even feel any emotion. How can’t you cry?” I rubbed my dampening eyes. “I cry about her all the time.”

He adjusted his weight. “I guess we have a little more in common than either of us would like, huh?” He rubbed my back. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

David’s forehead crinkled, and his eyes searched me, as if piecing me together one odd-shaped section at a time. He blinked, and a gentle smile appeared on his face as he slid his arm around my shoulder.

My heart fluttered three full beats as my body absorbed his strength. Holy crap he felt good. I tensed as he leaned toward me and brushed his cheek against mine. It was nothing, just a brush of our skin, but the touch was wildly sensual, as if my cheek experienced contact for the very first time.

“Thanks, Jess. I’m really glad I found you.”

I avoided the awkwardness by shifting away. “I believe I was the one who found you.”

He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Dumb thing to say, Jess.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, like…”

He laughed. I’d laugh at me too.

“I’m sorry, David. If you want to put your arm around me, you can.”

“My arm?”

“Yeah.”

His neck tensed, and I thought a wave of disappointment crossed his features. What did he expect?
Duh, Jess. He’s sitting on your bed
—but no, it didn’t seem like that at all. He seemed—sad.

He held out his arm.

I didn’t feel a shred of fear or inkling that he’d take advantage. And boy did I want those arms wrapped around me. I cuddled into his embrace, instantly warmed by the heat permeating his sweatshirt. Well, duh. He was like a hundred and fifteen degrees. I smiled to myself.

A hundred and fifteen degrees of perfect.

I should have cared about why the Army was looking for him. I should have cared about who he was. I should have cared about why he got cold so easily—but I didn’t. Nothing about him made sense, but it didn’t matter. Dang the story, and dang my father. All that mattered was this.

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so at ease with a guy. Probably because it was never. I sank into a deep void of nothing, drinking in the right-ness. So calm, so safe, so perfect.

My doorknob jiggled. My heart leapt into my throat.

Dad’s voice boomed through the door. “Jess?”

I jumped up from the bed and realized David was gone.

The door slammed open.

“Who’s in here?”

“No one.”

Dad ran to the window and looked out, side to side, and up.

Up?

“I thought I heard voices.” He looked in my closet.

“I don’t know. Maybe I was muttering or something.”

His eyes narrowed. “Muttering?”

“I don’t know, Dad. Why are you freaking out?”

“Why was your door locked?”

“Because I’m scared.” At least I didn’t have to lie about that. “You tell me that someone’s on the loose, and then you wonder why I locked the door?”

His eyes softened, just like they had earlier. Maybe, just maybe, the father I grew up with was still in there, hiding behind a façade of an emotionless soldier.

He pulled my head to his chest and kissed my hair. “I’m sorry,
pequeña
. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

He backed away, straying dangerously close to the bed.

Please don’t look under. Please, please, please don’t look under
.

He turned back to me. Crazy Army Dude was definitely gone. This was my father, the man who taught me how to ride a bike, the man who hiked around Lums Pond with me, the man who’d taught me how to read. I never realized how much I’d missed him.

“You don’t want to go to the Miller’s, do you?” He folded his arms.

I shook my head. “I feel like it’s babysitting.”

Seventeen years of piggyback rides, tickle fights, and walks on the beach settled across his face. I liked it. “I’ll call Mrs. Miller in the morning and ask her to drive you to Maggie’s instead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll have Grandma pick you up there.”

I nodded. Probably looked like a bobble-headed idiot. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let Mrs. Miller know when I’m ready to go. Thanks, Dad. I mean, really. Thanks.”

“All right. Sleep good.”

He kissed me on the forehead and left the room.

I locked the door behind him. A lot of good it did last time, but it made me feel better. Not much, but it was something.
I strode to the window and pushed it open. I looked back, forth, and oddly enough, up. Nothing out of the ordinary. But Dad was totally freaked. Maybe it was more than just David. Something else must have been out there. And whatever it was frightened a man who’d served a tour in Iraq.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I
should
be scared.

David appeared beside me, and I tensed to keep from jumping. Damn he was quiet.

My gaze trailed out the window again. No ladder. Just military-grade white vinyl siding. Not even a bush to climb on. “How’d you get up here anyway?”

David’s eyes widened. “I…climbed?”

There it was again. Answering my question like he hoped the answered was okay. Well heads up. I wasn’t buying it. Climbed? That’s some damn good climbing. Friggin’ Spider-Man. “All right, listen. Enough is enough.”

He nodded. “Yes, it is. I guess we need to talk.”

Finally.

But was I ready? Would I be able to handle what he was about to tell me?

I had to. No matter how bad it was, I promised myself I wouldn’t freak out.

David tensed, and his face mottled into a grimace. He clutched his arms to his torso and creased his brow as a tremor overtook him.

“Not again.” I slid the window shut, picked my sweater off my chair and threw it over his back. The pink angora bought out the subtle highlights in his otherwise jet-black hair. Didn’t stop the shiver, though.

Body heat. Friction.

Get out of my head, Maggie!

David crouched into a shaking ball at my feet.

Great. Now what? “Umm—give me a minute.”

I threw open my closet door and hauled out my old beat-up plastic heater. Unraveling the short electrical cord, I reached under the dresser and plugged it into an extension. I placed the unit on the center of the floor and set that sucker to maximum.

“Here,” I motioned to the heater.

He scooted across the floor, stopping mere inches from the unit, and rubbed his fingers together. “This is great. Th-th-thanks.”

I sat beside him, rubbing his shoulders. Why did I have to open that window? He was fine. He was going to tell me everything. How could I get him talking again?

“Listen,” I began. “If you tell me why you’re really so cold all the time, maybe I can help.”

He looked at me, and then back to the heater. “I’m afraid.”

“Of what? Me? If I was going to turn you in I’d have told my dad to look under the bed. I can’t live like this. I need to know what’s going on.”