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Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire Book 1) by Michelle Irwin, Fleur Smith (7)


 

 

“YOU LOOK very keyed up this morning.”

I jumped in surprise, and my heart pounded against my ribcage at the unexpected sound of Dad’s voice.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about yet?” he asked as my heart slowly calmed again.

I turned in place to look at him, unable to wipe the goofy smile off my face or stop my leg from bouncing with nervous energy. “You’ll see soon enough.”

I’d come home the previous evening to an expected torrent of shouting and concern, but, as he always did, he’d huffed and puffed himself into submission before too long. After his rant, when he’d talked himself into a state of almost calm, I’d told him that I’d quit my job—it was the truth, just a week late. When he asked why, I’d explained that all would be revealed today. Even though I planned to tell him everything, I hadn’t wanted to give him too much warning that a boy was coming over—lest he kidnap me away to a new town in the middle of the night. It seemed ridiculous to even think it, but I’d learned to never underestimate the lengths Dad would go to in order to keep me safe.

“Exactly how much longer am I supposed to wait to learn about these secrets you’ve been keeping from me?”

“I haven’t deliberately kept secrets,” I said, in another slight embellishment of the truth. “I just haven’t told you the whole truth.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I don’t know, Dad, why don’t you tell me?” It might have been a low blow reminding him that he’d done the same thing to me for years, but I really didn’t need him to heap more guilt onto me. It was beginning to ruin my mood, and I didn’t want to be sour or fighting with Dad when Clay arrived.

His face echoed years of self-doubt and pain, making my stomach twist. “I thought we were past that.”

I climbed off the couch and crossed the room to him before wrapping my arms around his waist.

“We are. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just too excited and nervous to even think straight.”

“About the thing you can’t tell me about yet?”

I nodded. “I will soon though.”

“You know that I know it’s a boy, right?” he asked in a whispered voice against my hair.

I stepped away from him. “How did . . .?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re my daughter. I know you well enough to know when something has changed. And the only thing I know of that can put that faraway look into my daughter’s eyes is someone who’s very dear to her. You had that same look most of the time that we were in Ohio. I just didn’t recognize it then.”

My stomach twisted in both fear and delight that he’d been so easily able to see the effect Clay had over me—both now and two years ago.

“I only hope you made a better choice than last time.”

The twisting sensation turned quickly to nausea. Would he remember Clay? They’d never met as far as I was aware, but that didn’t mean Dad wouldn’t recognize him from around town.

Would he understand if he did?

“I’m not sure that it was much of a choice,” I murmured.

He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know what you mean, honey, it was the same for your mom and me.” His eyes took him to another time and place, somewhere before I was born, when Mom was still alive. “What time’s he supposed to be here?”

“I’m not sure. About now, I guess,” I said, glancing at the clock. I hadn’t set a time with Clay, but I assumed he’d turn up around the same time I usually went to see him.

“You know, if you’d given me some notice, I could have prepared a proper meal or at least tidied up a bit.”

“Aren’t you worried that I invited someone here?” I asked. That was one of the things I was most worried that Dad would be upset about.

“You didn’t tell him we were here illegally, did you?”

“Of course not,” I said. I didn’t think Clay would be overly surprised by the revelation either though, but I couldn’t add that without concerning Dad. Although, I was beginning to wonder whether body-snatchers had stolen the man I knew, given his seemingly cavalier attitude toward Clay’s impending visit. I’d thought he’d tear the town apart trying to get me away from any interested suitor.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, no doubt in reaction to the odd expression on my face as I took in his casual acceptance.

“I just . . . You’re taking this rather well.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re not my little girl anymore. If you think this boy is special, then I’m sure he is. After the last time . . . it broke my heart to see you like that. This is a hard life, and it’ll make it easier for me to know you won’t be facing it alone when I’m gone.”

“Don’t talk like that, Daddy,” I murmured as I stepped forward to wrap my arms around him again. It sounded almost as if he was planning on leaving me tomorrow, and the thought scared the hell out of me. I might have been old enough to live on my own, I might even have been introduced to some of the things he did to keep us alive, but I wasn’t ready to live without him yet.

“I’ve got a few good years left in me yet, but no one can live forever.” He coughed and stepped out of my embrace, no doubt growing uncomfortable with the thought of his mortality, or perhaps the reminder of mine. “Anyway, let’s see what we can do to make this place look a bit more like our house, so that we don’t tip him off unnecessarily.”

I grinned and helped him tidy the signs that we were merely squatters in a defaulted house. If nothing else, it would help me to kill some of the nervous energy buzzing around my body.

An hour later, the house was organized, but we were still waiting for Clay. The whole time we’d waited, Dad had alternated between asking random questions about him and how we met, and cursing him for upsetting me by being late.

After another hour, I was so far beyond upset it was ridiculous. My skin prickled with the heat of anger as flames danced near the surface. How could he do that to me?

How he could just not show up after promising he’d come? Was he toying with me? Was it all a game to him?

Another half an hour of waiting and I was close to the edge. My teeth were pressed together so hard they almost cracked.

Had he been hurt?

Had something happened to him?

It was useless to continue to wait, that much became more obvious with every second. There wasn’t anything else for it. I would go to his warehouse. If I found him there alive and well, he’d face my fury. It was like high school all over again.

I’d make him regret standing me up. Again.

“I’m going for a drive,” I shouted at Dad as I grabbed the keys to the Ford.

Dad practically raced to my side. “I’ll come too.”

“No, it’s okay. I need to do this alone. If he’s stood me up, there better be a damn good reason for it.”

Dad chuckled at my anger. “Okay, Evie, give him hell. But . . . be careful. Try not to get too upset.” No doubt he really meant “try not to set anyone on fire” but didn’t want to say it aloud.

I nodded, knowing that even though I was going to rage at Clay if he didn’t have a good reason for not coming, I could keep myself calm enough to deal with it without the risk of hurting him.

Dad’s old truck suffered extensively on the drive to the warehouse. The vinyl at the top of the steering wheel twisted and warped under the strain of my heated, wringing hands. My fingers scorched the material as my emotions swung wildly out of control, constantly vacillating between fear and anger.

He said he’d come. Why didn’t he?

By the time I reached the airport district, my teeth were clenched so tightly I was beginning to wonder whether they would end up permanently fused together. My heart fluttered against my chest uselessly like a caged bird trying to escape. The lack of information was what scared me the most. What will I be walking into? I’d had my heart broken the first time Clay had rejected me—when he’d discovered my true nature—and I didn’t think I could bear it again. Even the knowledge that he was apparently willing to just not show for a meeting that was important to me was enough to make my heart tatter and bleed.

Why would he plan such a beautiful week just to ruin it all? Was he frightened off because I wanted him to meet Dad? Surely he’d understand why it was dangerous for Dad and me to keep secrets from one another?

I saw the warehouse looming in the distance, and my heart went from fluttering uselessly to pounding desperately. There was an unfamiliar red muscle car in front of the building. I would have thought nothing of it, except Clay was outside clearly having an argument with someone. Driving closer, I saw a young, bottle-blonde woman standing next to a Chevelle hardtop. Her hands flailed in the air as she argued just as passionately about something as Clay was. My mind offered up a hundred possible explanations for the blonde, none of them good. Jealousy struck me hard as I wondered whether maybe, despite the obvious disagreement they were having, she was an ex—or even current—girlfriend. The thought instantly sickened me, twisting in my stomach until I was certain that I would vomit.

Clay’s gaze fell on my behemoth F-truck and a horrorstruck look crossed his features. In response to his pause, the girl’s head turned partially toward me before Clay shouted something more at her to draw her gaze away from the road. In the instant I’d seen her face, I recognized her. His twin sister—my high school tormenter. In school, her hair had been dirty blonde and always pulled tightly to either side of her head and secured in two plaits. Now it was almost platinum, cut short in the back with the front just long enough to tip over her eyes.

To avoid detection—if it wasn’t already too late—I turned my head away from the scene as I passed her car. I was close enough that I could hear some of the words that they were shouting` but it was such a small snippet of conversation that it didn’t make immediate sense. I could easily imagine the cause of their heated exchange: me. Or more specifically the fact that he’d left his family to come to Charlotte, which he’d done for me.

At least I understood why he hadn’t come to my house; he wouldn’t want to draw her to me. Or were the last few days just a stalling tactic until his family could arrive?

It seemed possible that everything we’d shared was nothing more than a ploy to keep me in one place, but I couldn’t believe it. Surely if he’d wanted to kill me, he could have done it himself or brought his family when he initially came. Either way, a surprise attack would have been more effective.

Unless he wanted you to suffer first.

No! I couldn’t think like that, or our relationship would be doomed before it really even started. Again.

With a deep breath, I exhaled all of my doubt. I’d made my choice to trust Clay, and I would just have to keep doing it. I had no idea how long his sister would keep him from me, but I was confident he’d find a way to get away from her eventually. I couldn’t warn Dad because he would overreact. The solution was easy. I would have to be extra cautious for both of us until I could figure out if it was safe.

With the evidence that Clay’s failure to show had less to do with me and more to do with his family, the drive back home was a little easier on the car. It was still stressful, I still worried about how he was and what his sister might do, but at least the car didn’t have to suffer from additional heat-inflicted damage.

He’ll come as soon as he can.

When I arrived home, Dad waited anxiously for me. One look at his face and it was clear I had put him in with my dishonesty and by running off so quickly. Unfortunately, I still couldn’t be honest with him. I didn’t want him to know exactly who Clay was until they’d met and he could see the way Clay looked at me. The mere thought of his scorching gaze was enough to set a fire of passion racing through my body. Surely that alone is proof he wouldn’t hurt me?

“He wasn’t home, but I think it was just a case of crossed wires,” I said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Dad said uncertainly.

I nodded. “He wants to come. I know he does.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got the days wrong, Dad. He’s excited to meet you.”

“Maybe you can try to go down the road to call him from a payphone later?”

My mouth twitched in an attempt to smile. “Maybe.”

“You’d tell me if there was something going on, wouldn’t you?”

Swallowing the guilt that was like a deadweight in my chest, I nodded. “Of course.”

The evening was awkward. Dad spent the whole of dinner warning me about letting people be cavalier with my heart. After dealing with as many of his warnings as I could, I took my morose self to bed.

For too long, I stayed awake worrying about everything. Clay most of all. I had no way of contacting Clay short of getting in the truck and driving back out to see him. If I did that and his family was nearby, they’d realize that I was the reason he was in Charlotte—that is, if they didn’t already know. I tossed and turned as I stumbled around the edges of sleep until eventually a quiet tapping at my window pulled me completely awake.

What the hell?

I dragged myself out of bed and over to the window. Carefully, I peeled the curtain back the tiniest amount, less than an inch, and tried to see outside. The side of the house that my room backed onto was away from all of the streetlights, so it was impossible to make out anything more than a shadowy figure pacing outside the window. When the figure spun around to face the house again, I released the curtain and pressed my back against the wall.

“Evie!” Clay’s urgent whispers accompanied a renewed tapping.

Lifting the curtain away from the window again, I glanced around to ensure he was alone and then pushed the window open. I was equal parts thrilled to see him and cautious about the reason for his late-night visit.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was unable and unwilling to fight the grin that stole across my face at the sight of him.

He climbed in the window. “I said I’d come didn’t I. I was just . . . delayed.”

At the word, my smile slid into a frown. “I know. Why is she here? Where is she now?”

“She couldn’t understand why I’d just left. She tracked me, the same way I tracked you. Apparently there is some CCTV on the roads near the warehouse, something to do with increased security around the airport. She found me from there.”

“Is she going to try to find me now?” I asked, unable to hide the quiver in my voice as I thought about the danger she and the rest of his family posed. I didn’t ask the more accurate question—is she here to kill me?

He brushed my hair out of my face and frowned. He swallowed heavily and then shook his head. “She has no idea that you’re here. She doesn’t even know that I still have feelings for you. I never told her the reason you disappeared. I promise I’ll keep you safe from her—from them all.”

“Where is she now though?”

“She’s gone. I saw her off myself. She’s probably back in New York by now.”

“But she hasn’t just left for good though, has she?” Even from the little I’d learned about his family when we’d been at school, I was certain there was no way she leave him alone for good.

His lips mashed together, proving my concern was justified. “No. She hasn’t. But I do have a small window.”

“How small?”

“She gave me two days to return to my family.”

I couldn’t believe that I might have less than forty-eight more hours with him. My lip quivered at the thought of having to say goodbye so soon. Even though we’d only had a week together, it was hard to imagine not seeing him again. I paced the small space between him and my bed. “That’s not very long,” I muttered.

He blinked at me and then his lips tipped up into a slow smile. “It’s long enough for us to plan our escape.”

I didn’t dare risk letting the bubble of hope that was building within me get too big. “Our escape? Like together?”

He reached for my shoulders and held me to stop my nervous gait. “Why not?”

“Is this your way of asking me to go steady?” I quipped, glad for the chance to release my fear—even momentarily. It was part of the magic that Clay and I had. He could make me forget the stress I was under.

“I know it’s crazy. We still barely know each other. We only had a few months in high school, and then a few more days now. It’s completely mental, but it feels right, doesn’t it?”

I blinked in response.

“Tell me that you don’t feel this intense pain right here,” he placed his hand over my heart, “whenever we have to leave each other, and I’ll go right now, because that would mean we don’t feel the same.”

“I can’t,” I said, placing my hand over his, “because I do.”

“I hope you understand why I couldn’t risk coming until I knew Lou had really left.”

“And you’re sure she has?”

He nodded. “I’m so sorry my family has messed everything up again.”

I pressed one finger against his lips. “You’re here now.”

“I am.”

“Dad’s asleep though.”

He chuckled. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep me company instead.”

“I think I can do that.”

I held his hand and led him over to the single bed in my room. Sitting on top of the mussed up covers, I pulled him down beside me. “You can stay here tonight,” I said. “We can introduce you to Dad tomorrow and see where we go from there.”

His face remained stoic as he assessed what I’d said, and I worried I’d overstepped some invisible mark.

“That is, if you want to?” I added.

“Are you kidding me?” The corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. “I’ve had two weeks of sleeping either in cars or in a sleeping bag on the cold, hard concrete floor. A bed is a dream come true. Getting to sleep beside a breathtaking girl as well? How could I even try to refuse that?”

After kicking off his shoes and socks, he wrapped his arms around me and dragged me down onto the mattress. A few lazy kisses later, I eventually succumbed to sleep. Truthfully we didn’t really fit side by side on the small bed, but the lack of room was a small sacrifice when it meant knowing that he was safe and that we were together.

During the night, his lips pressed against my shoulder and throat, causing me to shift in place and move closer to him until our bodies were wrapped tightly together. His arm wrapped around me and his face pressed against the back of my neck.

“Hmm, Evie,” he mumbled before his breathing evened out again.

When I woke the next morning, his arms were still wrapped around me. The fingers of one hand had found their way up underneath my top to caress the skin just below my breasts. I was lying there, trying to will his hand higher—or maybe lower—when my curtain was drawn with a whizzing noise. A sudden influx of sunlight blinded me temporarily.

“Get the hell away from my daughter, and get the fuck out of my house!”

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