Fire in the Woods Page 8

  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.”

  The sound of the fan inside the heater filled the otherwise silent room.

  David hugged his knees, looking more like a terrified child than a wanted fugitive. “I’m not from here.”

  His words coated me with a sense of doom. Was he a spy? A defector? Double agent? Impossible. He wasn’t much older than me, for goodness sake.

  He quaked. “Jess, I’m sorry. I’m really cold.”

  Shoot. “Give me a minute.”

  I jiggled my sleeping bag out of a box in my closet and rolled it out in front of the heater. David ran his fingers across the dull, gray fabric.

  “It’s seen better days, but it’s warm.”

  “Thanks.” He drew the quilted fabric around his arms, leaving most of his body uncovered.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I plucked the bag from his shoulders and flattened it out on the floor. “Haven’t you ever seen a sleeping bag before?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Who’s never seen a sleeping bag? I unzipped the side. “It’s a bag. You get into it, and you zip it shut around you.”

  “Really? Wow, that’s a great idea.”

  My eyes narrowed. “It’s the best thing since grated cheese. Are you trying to be sarcastic or something?”

  David nodded, but I didn’t buy it. What country could he be from that didn’t have sleeping bags?

  He fingered the zipper. “I’ll be kind of confined, won’t I?”

  “Yeah, I guess, but you can always unzip it.”

  “What if your father comes back?”

  Good point. No matter what we did, Dad would be an issue. And I obviously couldn’t put him back out into the cold.

  “I need a good place for you to hide.”

  David’s gaze trailed to the closet. “Can I sleep in there?”

  “In my closet? Seriously?”

  He pulled the sleeping bag from the heater and flattened it out in the small space between my hanging clothes and the floor. He wouldn’t even be able to stretch out in there. Didn’t stop him from trying, though.

  Twisting at odd angles, he managed to ease himself between the two halves of thick fleece. He fumbled with the zipper until I took the end from him, zipping the bag up to his chin.

  “Thanks. This is really warm.” Calm coated his features, as if everything suddenly was right in his world.

  But it wasn’t right in my world. He hadn’t finished telling me what the heck was going on.

  “David?”

  A cute little snore filled the room.

  Crap. I rubbed my temples. “All right. You sleep, then. But tomorrow, we need to talk.”

  David grunted in reply.

  Perfect. Just perfect.

  I leaned on the edge of my bed. The pulsing red button on the heater illuminated David’s face, tucked like a little doll in the bottom of my closet. The effect was almost eerie.

  I grabbed my camera, adjusted for the low-light, and snapped a few pictures of him.

  Sheesh. The resemblance to Jared Linden…it just wasn’t natural. I mean, they say that everyone has a doppelganger in the world, but this was just crazy.

  Creepy crazy, but at the same time, incredibly beautiful. Gentle, soft lines formed David’s face, giving him an air of complete serenity. Too bad I didn’t feel so secure with the sleeping arrangement.

  Boy in the room.

  Dad on a rampage.

  Fugitive on the loose.

  Jess in deep shi…shoot I was in trouble.

  I eased the louvered doors shut, leaving a crack so he could breathe, but still concealing him if Dad decided to pop in to say goodbye in the morning.

  Setting my camera back on my dresser, I cuddled under my comforter and tilted my pillow toward the closet. What a crazy couple of days. Everything was nuts, but at least I knew David was safe. Unless Dad found him, that was.

  I glanced toward the door. Would Dad come and check up on me? What if he opened the closet again? Trembling, I closed my eyes, but I knew sleep would be at a premium that night.

  8

  Sunlight stung my eyes, waking me. I rolled over and squinted at my alarm clock. Ten twenty-two. No six A.M. Reveille? Someone must have broken the speakers again. Whoever you are, I love you.

  Last night’s events flooded back into my mind. I bolted upright.

  David.

  I sprang from my bed. My bare feet sank into the warm carpet. Why did my floor feel hot? I ran my fingers through the moist hair matted to my forehead. My night-shirt clung to me, the fabric so wet it had changed from a dark pink to a deep fuchsia. Balmy air filled my lungs.

  But where was the heater?

  The white extension cord wove from beneath my desk and snaked along the floor under my closet’s louvered doors. The mild hum from the unit’s fan reverberated from within.

  “David?” I held my hand up to the door, my fingertips sampling the heat rushing from between the slats. It felt like the Sahara in there. I slid the door to the left. A gush of hot air assaulted my face, forcing a single step retreat.

  David still lay wrapped in my sleeping bag with the heater propped beside him, cuddled like a moth in a cocoon. A light snore rose from his lips.

  Well, that certainly kept him warm enough.

  I smoothed back my damp tresses. The stifling heat in the room may have made David comfortable, but my stomach threatened major pukeage. I unlocked the bedroom door, and closed it softly behind me, allowing the cooler temperature of the hallway to relieve my lungs.

  I tiptoed down the stairs and drew aside the curtains in the front window. Dad’s car was already gone. In the kitchen, I found an envelope on the counter marked “Jess”. As if anyone else lived in the house. I passed my finger under the seal, exposing six crisp, clean fifty dollar bills and a credit card. All right Dad! I withdrew a note from between the bills.

  My father’s messy penmanship scrawled across the paper: Remember, Grandma will be here tomorrow morning. This is so you can have some fun and pick up some school clothes while you are in Florida. Stay at Maggie’s until she gets here. Dad.

  I tapped the envelope against my palm. One more day to figure out what was up with David. Maybe if I could keep him warm enough, he’d finally te
ll me the truth.

  I took a quick swig of OJ before climbing the stairs to the shower. The massage setting on the spigot eased some of the pain in my sore muscles. Some. Not all. I had no idea what I was going to do about David when Mrs. Miller came to pick me up.

  “Jess?”

  I screamed and clutched the shower curtain, pulling the pink plastic up to my neck as I peeked out into the bathroom. “David, what are you doing? Can’t you see I’m in the shower?”

  His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. He stood in the center of the steamy room, gaping. “I…I’m sorry. I just wanted to know where you were.”

  “Well, duh. Couldn’t you hear the water running?”

  “Yeah.” He continued to stare at me.

  Was he really that dense? “David, give me a minute to finish up, okay?”

  His brow furrowed. “Do you want me to wait in your room?”

  Was he for real? “Yes. Anywhere but here.”

  He wiggled his hands into his pockets and strode back into the hallway. Cute, but a total douche.

  I stepped out and dried off. What was it with this guy anyway? And Dad thinks I have no common sense. He’d never be able to handle David.

  I laughed at myself, grabbed the clothes I’d left on top of the hamper the night before, and slipped them on.

  I crinkled my nose at my reflection in the mirror as I ran a comb through my bangs. If I were pretty like Maggie, maybe David would…I shook the thought from my mind. David was about six feet of drop dead gorgeous. Yes, quirky, but you could get away with the odd thing with pecs like that.

  The mirror reflected simple Plain Jane Jess. A guy like that is never going to go for you. I dabbed a stroke of eyeliner against my bottom lashes, and fluffed my hair. It sure didn’t hurt to try, though.

  My cell rang. MAGGIE flashed on the screen. “Maggs, you are not going to believe this. He’s here again. He spent the night.”

  She squealed. “Omigosh, did you do it?”

  “No. He slept in my closet.”

  A mild pause hung on the line. “In the closet?”

  “I know. It’s kind of weird, but I really like him. He’s sweet. You know—nice.”

  “Nice? Everything about this guy is odd, Jess.”

  “He was cold. It was warmer in there.”

  Her exhale fizzled through the phone line. “Is he feeling better at least?”

  “Yeah, he seems fine today.”

  “So, what are you going to do with him? You can’t keep him hidden from the major forever.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “My dad would freak if he knew I had a boy in the house.”

  Maggie snickered. “Do you know how many guys I’ve hidden in my closet?”

  “But I’m not actually doing anything.”

  “Yet,” Maggie finished. “It sounds like you want to.”

  I shrugged. “I admit he’s good-looking, but I…I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

  The tapping sound of her keyboard clicked in the background. “You know, girl, I couldn’t find a record of any disorder that makes your temperature really high. What did he say he had?”

  “Thermo nuclear something or other.”

  “I looked for that. No such thing.”

  “I don’t know what he said. Does it matter?”

  “If he’s in your house breathing the same air as you it matters. I’m gonna keep looking.”

  Oh-oh. Maggs just dropped into sleuth mode. No biggie. The worst she could do was find a way to help me keep him warm—without the friction.

  “Hey, listen. Mrs. Miller is supposed to pick me up soon. Can you just drive me instead?”

  “Me, oh, umm, yeah. Hold on.” She seemed to hold the phone from her face. “Mom, is it okay if I go get Jess instead of Mrs. Miller?”

  Her Mom’s voice sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown in the background. Completely unintelligible.

  Maggie returned. “Man, my parents are acting like we’re being invaded or something. Don’t worry. I’ll schmooze her over and have her clear it up with Lieutenant Miller’s wife. Call me when you get rid of the hottie and are ready for me to pick you up. Okay?”

  “You got it. Thanks, Maggs.”

  I clicked off the phone. Get rid of the hottie. Why did I think that was going to be easier said than done?

  The sound of wooden doors opening and closing banged from within the kitchen as I climbed down the stairs. I rounded the corner and smiled.

  David closed the cabinet he was searching through. “I’m hungry. Can we have PB&J?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “For breakfast?”

  “But I liked the PB&J.”

  Mom always said the way to a guy’s heart was through his stomach, and I managed to find a guy who actually liked something I could make. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—who knew?

  “The only problem is I think we’re out of bread.” I walked past the counter and opened the fridge. “I can make ham and cheese sandwiches without the bread. How about roll-ups, just like we’re kids.”

  “Roll ups?” He leaned on the counter.

  I slapped a piece of ham on a plate, covered it with cheese, and rolled it up into a small tube. Not really a breakfast extravaganza, but it was almost noon, anyway.

  David’s jaw tensed. He walked around me and chose a banana and an apple out of the fruit basket by the window. “How about some of this?” His gaze darted back to the ham. A slight grimace touched his lip.

  “Do you have a problem with ham?”

  A purplish tint blemished his skin. I swore he was about to yak.

  “David, are you a vegetarian?”

  He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Yes?” He leaned forward. His voice sounded as if he were asking if it were okay.

  Could he get any cuter? “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s okay.” I couldn’t fathom how anyone couldn’t like ham, but being a gracious host, I smushed the offensive slice of pig into my mouth.

  I grabbed a few bags of veggies from the refrigerator and threw them on the counter. “I can make some stir fry. Sound good?”

  “Okay. But no roll ups.”

  “No meat, no dairy. Got it.”

  I pretended to peruse the vegetables. So, he didn’t eat meat, he’s not used to the cold, and he’s never seen a sleeping bag. But he also looked like he’d never seen a bird. Where were there no birds?

  Grabbing a knife, I began chopping the broccoli. “Last night you were about to tell me where you were from.” I brushed away the little green crumbles, pretending I wasn’t as interested in his response as I really was.

  “Yeah, that.” He picked a knife from the block and grabbed a fistful of carrots from a bag. “I’ve been thinking about how explain.” He pressed down on the knife. Slices as thin as paper curled up in a growing pile on his plate.

  “Impressive. Were you a chef in a past life or something?” I turned on the stove.

  He placed the knife down. “I wish it was that simple.”

  My cell phone rang. David flinched.

  “It’s okay, it’s just Maggie.” I swiped across the bar on my phone’s screen. “Hey, Maggs. This is a really bad time. David and I are…”

  “He’s still there?”

  I glanced over to David. “Yeah, we’re making lunch.”

  “Jess, get out of the house.”

  “What?”

  “Just make an excuse and run.”

  I smiled at David and walked into the living room. “What are you talking about?”

  “I think he’s the reason for the security alert. He’s the guy they’re looking for.”

  A little ball formed in my chest and twisted. “Yeah, I kinda know, but it has to be a mistake or something.”

  “There’s no mistake. I added two and two together and got David. You have to get out of there.”

  I glanced through the archway. David set the knife down and popped a carrot s
lice into his mouth. “Will you get a hold of yourself? He’s not dangerous.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’s fine. We’re cutting up vegetables for stir-fry.”

  Maggie growled into the receiver. “With a knife? I’m calling Bobby.”

  “No! Are you crazy?”

  “Jess, I’m scared. I’ve never seen my dad like this. Something huge is going on and you just happen to find some guy in the woods?”

  The part of me that wanted to be safe struggled with the side of me that wanted to get back to David’s explanation. Now was not the time to freak out.

  “Tell you what. Come over. Meet him. If you still think he’s a terrorist or something, I will dial Bobby’s cell for you. Deal?”

  Silence hung on the line. I paced the living room, waiting for her answer.

  “All right,” she said. “But I’ll have my finger on the speed-dial.”

  “Fine. You won’t need to use it.”

  “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” She hung up the phone.

  Whatever. It felt like the whole town had gone nuts. I turned back to the kitchen. “Ugh, Maggie can be so…”

  David jumped as I entered the room. He stumbled back, bumping into the counter and steadying his right hand on the stove.

  The stove. The hot stove.

  My heartbeat drummed my ears. I gasped.

  A putrid stench rifled through the air. Smoke rose from between his fingers as his skin melted and bubbled on the hot burner.

  “David, your hand!”

  He cried out, ripping his arm away and cradling his fingers inside his elbow.

  The stove continued to sizzle where he had left most of his skin behind. Holy shi…Gross! Okay. Okay. Keep it together! You can do this. I switched the power off on the stove and reached for him.

  “Let me see it.”

  “No. You definitely don’t want to see this.” He winced, and held his clenched fist to his chest.

  “I’ve had first aid training, remember?” I glanced toward the stove. A lumpy, blackened hand print sent trails of rancid white smoke into the air.

  But was that even possible? His hand was only on there for a second or two. Skin shouldn’t burn that quickly. Unless you’re David, and everything about you is bizarre.