Ignited (19 page)

She disentangled herself from his arms, and he moved back a step. There was still very little space between them, but it was better than it had been. Better, but worse. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t feel especially sorry, but she thought she ought to.

He shook his head. “We got carried away. It’s fine.” He fiddled with his hair, trying to put it back into some form of order, and straightened his shoulders. “I’m sorry your dream scared you.”

The dream fell over her again—not the pleasant memory of the tight, hot feeling inside of her, but the dread of waking up and not knowing whether or not she had burned everything again. If she didn’t learn to control herself, it was only a matter of time before she hurt someone.

What was worse—as soon as she’d seen Henry, she had struggled to remember why she was here. Her hormones were going crazy. He was on her mind every moment, his bright eyes and his tousled hair, the surprising strength of his body ….

She shook her head. She couldn’t even worry properly, she was so focused on him!

Ruth sighed. “It wasn’t the dream that worried me, it was the aftermath. I want to practice again. Tonight after we see Matt, let’s go to the lake and practice like we planned.”

“We can work on keeping your emotions in check.”

“I don’t think my emotions are ever in check around you,” she blurted without thinking. She went red with embarrassment at the thought, but she didn’t miss the pleased look on his face as he bent forward and kissed her on the cheek.

“Tonight, then, at my house.”

“All right.” She frowned, suddenly. “And we’ll talk about whatever happened with your family?”

Henry shook his head, waving her concern away. “It doesn’t matter. My grandfather and I aren’t seeing eye to eye about something. We’ll work it out.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced by his own words, but Ruth knew better than to push him right now. She slid off the table and into his arms, holding him as tightly as he was holding her.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” she told him. His grip on her grew tighter, and he whispered a grateful “thank you” into her ear.

Ruth floated her way home. It seemed as if her feet barely touched the ground once. She was lighter than air, the happiness inside of her making her more buoyant than she had ever felt in her entire life. She would get away from the toxicity of her home, and see Henry, and they would practice her powers, and probably kiss, and everything was finally, finally going right in her life.

When she opened the front door, she heard stirrings down the hall. Ruth fought back her surprise. Her father usually didn’t emerge from his sermon-writing until nearly dinner time.

“Dad?” she called out, walking down the hallway.

There was a loud sound, like wood hitting wood, and she flinched. The sound came from down the short hallway, and Ruth followed, her steps careful.

“Dad, where are you?”

She peeked into his bedroom as she passed. The door was standing open, but the room itself was empty. She took in the neat hospital corners of his bed, the untouched look of every item. Edward was someone who genuinely believed that cleanliness was next to godliness.

On soft feet, Ruth approached her open door. She was sure she’d closed it before leaving to see Henry. She was positive.

She rounded the corner and looked inside, where her father was holding her scorched sheets in one hand and a ruined dress in another.

“Ruthie,” he said, his voice raw with hurt or anger, she wasn’t sure which. “How on earth can you explain this?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ruth

“How did this happen?”

Edward sounded calm, but his shoulders were taut, and his knuckles were white where they clutched the fabric. She had thought she had been so careful. Her father hadn’t felt a cause to go through her room in
years
. Terror coursed through her veins.

Ruth drew in a shaky breath. “Dad ….”

“I heard voices outside my window, someone talking about powers. But surely, I thought, it couldn’t be my Ruthie. She was good.”

“Dad,” Ruth tried again. He ignored her.

“So I waited, I watched. And then your window was propped open last night, and you were gone. That’s when I knew ….” 

“If you’d only lis—”

Edward shook the fabric with rage. “There’s a burn on here in the shape of a body,” he spat, the accusation slipping into his tone. 

Ruth couldn’t lie to him, not anymore. She hadn’t prayed in days, she realized, and wondered if it was too late to ask God for this favor: that Edward didn’t ask, that Edward didn’t know—

“Are you one of
them
?”

Ruth closed her eyes and crumpled forward, dropping her face into her hands. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. They wouldn’t do her any favors. Her father wouldn’t be any kinder to her for them.

She looked up, shaking. Her body felt like it could fall apart, strung out on a cocktail of adrenaline and fear. “Dad,” she said. “Please ….”

He threw the sheets and the dress to the floor and tore at his hair. “So this is what’s been happening to you lately? The hair? Your attitude? I saw you sneaking out again today, so don’t pretend you weren’t!”

The lump in her throat grew bigger, and Ruth struggled to speak around it. She took a few steps back, pressing up against the wall behind her. Her body shrunk under the force of his anger. “Please, it’s not my fault. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I was so afraid. I have been trying so hard—”

The tears she had been fighting against came slowly leaking from her eyes, and she scrubbed at them.

Edward crossed the distance between them, grabbing at her arms. His touch was softer than she expected. She had been anticipating bruises and pain and punishment, the kind of punishment he believed would make her right in the eyes of God. Instead, his fingers were light. When she dared to look up at him, his eyes were glistening.

“Ruthie,” he said, sounding so soft and heartbroken that she hiccuped out a sob despite herself. “Ruthie, what did you do? You were trying to be a good girl, I thought. What did you do to deserve this?”

The night she had spent with Henry came flashing back to her, and she winced. What if this really
was
a punishment for her sins, what if everything that was happening was because she hadn’t been good enough, and this was all some divine retribution?

No
, a voice inside her whispered.

Henry wasn’t a mistake. The powers—they were not easy, and they were not what she would have chosen for herself, but they were a part of her. No one else who had them was a demon, so neither was she.

She couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—apologize for this part of herself. Not anymore.

“It was the fog. It ….” She gritted out the words, even through her tears.

The slap to her face made her head snap to the right. She did not reach up to touch the skin of her cheek, no matter how much she wanted to. 

Her father suddenly crushed her against his chest. She felt his hands stroke over her hair, but the gesture did not calm her. He smelled of stale sweat, and disgust curled in her stomach. This wasn’t love. Hitting her wasn’t love.

“It’s okay, Ruthie. We’ll figure this out. We’ll cure you.”

Terror turned her to stone in her father’s arms. She knew what her father’s cures entailed.

Edward pulled back to look at her. His eyes moved over her face as he studied her silently, and he frowned at what he saw there. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll thank me when it’s over and you’re yourself again.”

Ruth tried to step back through the open door. His hand clenched tighter on her forearm, and she winced. The pain made her struggle harder, but he was stronger than she was. At least in some ways.

She could use her powers. Just make her skin hot, let it glow molten until he let her go—

No. No, she couldn’t do it. She didn’t have enough control, and she couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to stop once she started. Even now, Ruth didn’t want to hurt him. 

“I’m not possessed!” Ruth wrenched at her arm, but his grip was like iron. Panic made her wild, and she flailed even harder. “Please, listen! You’re wrong. I’m still me, I’m still Ruth, I’m just—more.”

He dropped his arms to her waist and hauled her away from the door. Ruth kicked out, but it did no good. He dumped her onto her bedroom’s ugly brown carpet.

Her father stood in the doorway, straight-backed and grave. “No one ever thinks they’re possessed, at least not until it’s too late. That’s why I’m doing this. To save you.”

“An
exorcism
?” She struggled to her feet. “You’re going to starve me to death?”

Edward paled to see her on her feet. She had never stood up to him before. He ran from the room and slammed her door shut in her face. She heard the lock engage from the outside and fruitlessly tried to turn the handle and push the door open. Panic overtook her and she clawed at the door, sounding desperate even to her own ears as she called out, “Stop,
stop!
You have to listen to me!”

“This is for your own good!” Edward yelled back. His voice was scratchy, as if he were fighting back emotion, and it only made her panic more. He never sounded like that, like he was overwhelmed. “I’m going to save you from this, Ruth!”

“Please, no! Please, I’m not possessed, I’m not ….” She banged her fist against the door, again and again. Heat started to rise inside her, but she could not find it in herself to care. “Please, let me go. I haven’t hurt anyone, and I won’t, I would never, you know that—”

Edward sounded farther away, as if he’d taken a few steps down the hallway. “It’s in your nature now. You won’t be able to help it. Just—I need to keep you in there until I figure out how to save your soul.”

Ruth could feel her hands growing hotter, and she stepped away from the door a moment before they went up in flames. She took a deep breath in and out, and the fire dissipated quickly. Her skin had cooled to its normal temperature before she remembered her window. When she turned to it, however, she felt her hope fall. It was boarded shut, the nails fit in snugly.

She dropped to her knees and fought back a sob. Her father would never sway on this, not until he got his way. But he wasn’t an exorcist, and she wasn’t possessed, and there was no way she could imagine escaping the ritual with her life intact.

Her thoughts turned to Henry. He was bound to show up at the lake tonight. He would be left waiting for her all night, not knowing why she hadn’t come. What if he thought she’d changed her mind? What if he was angry? She’d be dead before she ever had a chance to explain what had happened.

She pressed her face into her knees and allowed herself the luxury of crying as much as she wanted.

It was impossible for Ruth to know how much time had passed. She wasn’t wearing her watch, and there was no clock in her room. The window was boarded up so she couldn’t even guess from the position of the sun. She’d gone numb to her fear what felt like hours ago, sitting in silence on her floor, too shocked to do anything more.

She’d known it would be bad—that was why she’d been so determined to get away. There’d still been a little part of her that hoped, however, that her father would find a way to love and forgive her, no matter what, for no reason more than she was his daughter.

Her face was itchy and sore from her tears. Her stomach grumbled again and again, going from an annoyance to a physical pain. Desperate, she knocked on the door. “Dad?”

There was silence, and then steps coming down the hallway. She could see the shadows cast by her father’s feet just under the doorway. “What do you want?”

His sharp voice kindled the flame of her fear once more.

Some tiny seed inside of her hoped that Henry would realize something was wrong and come to her aid, but it was just a silly dream. Even if he came, there was nothing he could do. Her father would deny she was there. She couldn’t allow herself to give in to such fantasies or she’d break. She was sure of it.

“Please, I’m so hungry. Could I have something to eat?” She paused. “Or maybe be let out to use the bathroom?”

He did not answer right away, and had she not been able to see his feet, she would have assumed he had already walked away.

After a long moment, he said, “No eating. We have to starve that demon out of there. I’ll get you water and a bucket.”

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. “But—”

“If you talk back, you get nothing.”

“Okay. All right. Thank you.”

He padded away, and Ruth took a deep breath. Maybe if she was quick enough, she’d be able to get past him when he opened the door. A part of her felt frozen with fear. If she didn’t make it, everything would become that much worse.

But no one was coming, and this would be her only real chance.

She heard his foot falls coming back down the hall.

As soon as the door was opened a crack, Ruth dove for it, getting her hands into the space and trying to make her body follow. She felt her father slap her, flailing blindly and trying to reach any part of her that he could. He got her forehead and then caught the corner of her eye, forcing her back with an audible cry.

“Back, demon!” he cried out, pushing a glass of water through the opening. He waited a moment, testing her to make sure her rebellion had come to an end, before pushing in the bucket. Once the door was closed and locked again, he murmured, “You try anything like that again, I won’t even bother exorcising you. You’re too dangerous like this. I won’t let you do this to my girl.”

“I
am
your girl!”

The words fell on deaf ears.

Her father left, and fear clutched her heart. How could he do this to her? If he loved her as he claimed to, why wouldn’t he listen to her? Why was he so sure everyone who had powers was evil, when they had never shown signs of being any different than they had always been?

It was crushing. Ruth closed her eyes, grimacing. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to blame God, but she couldn’t find it within herself, and she wasn’t sure why. She knew God couldn’t be happy with her. She’d lied, she’d felt lustful.