The Key

by Felicia Rogers

  “The next thing I remember, the smoke alarms were going off. My room was all smoky and hot and I dropped to the floor and crawled to my door. I nearly grabbed the metal door knob but I remembered a fire safety class from school that said to touch the door with the back of your hand first. I did and it was blazing hot. I hadn’t shut it completely the night before so I pulled it open a crack.”

  She twisted her hands in her lap and her throat burned from holding back tears. Telling the story always seemed too much like reliving it, like letting the horror take her over, and part of her wished she hadn’t started. “The hallway was engulfed in flames. The walls looked like they were rippling. The heat was so intense I could feel my arm hairs singeing.”

  A tear slipped onto her cheek and she swiped it away. “My parents’ door was directly in front of me. Flames licked at it from floor to ceiling but I thought I could save them.”

  A sad laugh refused to stay inside her. “I never made it to their door because someone grabbed me around the waist and hauled me back. Still not certain exactly what happened. One moment I was running across the hall. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the pavement outside. Firefighters, police, paramedics were everywhere. They fought the fire for hours, but it was no use. The house was so hot they weren’t able to go in until it was little more than a pile of ashes.”

  Maddie twisted the hem of her shirt. “Of course they investigated for over a month, but they never discovered what caused the fire. A faulty electric wire was the biggest suspect but one investigator said the fire was too hot. They couldn’t find any traces of gasoline or kerosene, though, nothing like that. So I guess I’ll never know for sure.”

  Finally she glanced up, and the compassion in his eyes was too much to bear. They’d been having a fun evening and she’d spoiled everything. Dork. She pushed off the couch and crossed to the window. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to talk about it.” She hadn’t meant to be sarcastic but her tone came out that way. Dork dork dork.

  Nothing would change what had happened. Her parents were gone and she remained.

  A guilty glance over her shoulder showed Chase studying his hands as if he was at a loss for words. His expression hadn’t changed, and she knew she’d ruined the evening. She shouldn’t have dumped all that on him. It had been such a trying day; she had just blurted everything out without thinking.

  He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “We should probably get ready for bed. It’ll be time for school before we know it.”

  “Yeah. I’m going to call and check on my grandma first.”

  He went upstairs. With a hollow feeling in her stomach despite the wonderful supper, she called the hospital. No news. She hung up the phone and dragged herself up the stairs.

  He met her on the landing. “Any change?”

  She shook her head. “They said I can visit tomorrow after school.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaned against the door jamb. His sleeveless T-shirt highlighted his bulging biceps. She pointed toward her bedroom door. “I really should go to bed.”

  “Yeah.” But he didn’t move and his eyes followed her.

  She felt their touch as she passed him. Then she closed the door and his spell was broken. Maddie laid her head back and drew in a deep breath. She wished she hadn’t said anything about her parents, but at least now he knew. He knew what happened to people who got close to her.

  And she wouldn’t let him make that mistake. She hoped.

  He hadn’t commented or given advice, for which she was grateful. Curling into a ball under the covers, she tried to free her mind. How would she sleep knowing Chase lay across the hall? Probably not very well.

  Chapter 23

  Hands clasped behind his head, Chase stared at the ceiling. Sympathy flooded him until he thought he’d drown. He’d known about Maddie’s parents dying, but hearing the full tragedy and seeing the emotions flit across her features as she described her failure to rescue them broke his heart.

  It was one more problem he couldn’t fix. He couldn’t bring her parents back or protect her from the sorrow of loss. Growing up stinks.

  Chase rolled onto his side and punched the lumpy pillow. Tomorrow he’d make sure to grab his from home.

  He stared at the paisley wallpaper. Typical old lady’s house. Even though he mocked it, the house had stood the test of time. No doubt many generations had lain in this very bed, stared at these very walls, and contemplated their future. A couple years ago, he’d figured out what he wanted to do and at eighteen, he looked forward to a career in aeronautical engineering and design. He hoped to build the fastest plane known to man.

  What would it be like to sit on the sidelines of an air show and witness his plane streaking across the sky? To have millions of people cheer and clap at his invention? To know that he had created something?

  As he envisioned different scenarios, he remembered sitting with Maddie at the table and sharing a simple meal. It had seemed so right, so natural, to be by her side. The rush of success would mean nothing without her.

  They would hole up in his design room, which in his thoughts looked an awful lot like Dad’s workshop, and she would lean over his shoulder and study his blueprints, making knowledgeable suggestions. They would sit down for a meal and she would listen with rapt attention, and in turn he’d listen to her innermost thoughts. They would hold each other through the night, discussing their various ideas.

  Heat stole over his cheeks as he thought of the other things they’d do, once they were married. Lying together…

  He jerked awake as a blood-curdling scream rent the air. He leapt from the bed, fighting rising panic and kicking the blankets to the floor.

  Without asking, he flung Maddie’s door open and— stopped. His first instinct was to run inside and battle whatever disturbed her. But she sat bolt upright, barely breathing. Her hair stuck out in all directions. Her eyes were wide as she gazed into space and tears coursed along her cheeks. She didn’t seem to notice him, and he got the strange impression she was sound asleep where she sat.

  Afraid to startle her, he crept into the room and perched on the edge of the bed. Slowly she turned toward him with a strange, distant expression. She still didn’t seem to see him, even though she stared right through him.

  Hand shaking, Chase touched her forearm, then stroked his fingers up to her shoulder. She relaxed, her chest rising and falling in a deeper, more regular pattern. Carefully he guided her back down onto her pillow and smoothed her damp hair away from her forehead. A zing raced along his arm like he’d plugged into her mind, harder than their usual electrical zap. His heart thumped loudly in his ears.

  Darkness enclosed them, at first so dark he could barely see her beside him. Seemingly oblivious to his presence, she strolled through a field of tall grass toward nothingness, but as she moved a shape materialized in the distance. A tall, beautiful white tower shimmered into existence, sparkling and glimmering in the growing starlight. It held a magnetism that pulled her forward, literally floating her off the ground. He ran to keep up. She reached out, her fingers outstretched in anticipation. But even though she continued to fight the grass and gravity, she never quite reached her destination.

  Frustration covered her face. Then the scene changed and they were in a cave. She snuggled close to Alasdair’s beastly form and a sense of comfort pervaded her.

  Chase drew in a quick breath. With the shudder, his hand flinched from Maddie’s forehead and the connection was lost. He rocked on the edge of the bed. The vivid images still lingered in his mind. If he closed his eyes he could still see Maddie and Alasdair in the cave huddled together, the little smile on her face.

  Agitated, he massaged the bridge of his nose, stood, and retreated to the window. He’d joined her in her dreams. He’d seen them, even though she hadn’t seen him. Beyond the lacy curtains and windowpanes, stars lit the clear night sky. A gentle wind blew, scattering leaves across the yard. Chase laid his head against
the cool pane. Control. He needed to regain control. No matter how impossible the night’s events.

  Soft snoring behind him. Maddie relaxed and stretched deeper into the bed. Sensing her contentment and his invasion into her space, he retreated back to his borrowed room. It seemed cold and empty. Shivering, he straightened the tossed blankets and lay down, wishing she were with him. His alter ego had all the luck.

  ****

  The alarm blared and Maddie slapped it off, then rolled back onto her pillow. So incredibly comfortable… but her eyes didn’t want to close again, and she realized how refreshed she felt, not drowsy or loggy at all. Had her normal nightmare visited her? She couldn’t remember it, but she knew she’d dreamed of overprotective guardians and massive, sheltering wings.

  No, there’d been one nightmare. She vaguely remembered running from… from Doran, the black gryphon. Dark woods had engulfed her. Her breath had come in short rasping gasps as she’d stumbled between trees. Cracking and splintering branches had echoed behind her and she had been too afraid to find a hiding place. Up ahead a two-story house with a white picket fence had beckoned her. Brilliant multicolored flowers had offered welcome. She had increased her pace.

  A dark winged creature had appeared and hovered overhead. Flames had shot from his eyes and a fireball lit the sky and struck the house, causing it to explode. As the flowers had melted, she’d screamed. Then the scenery had changed.

  Maddie flipped onto her back and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. A smile teased the corners of her lips. Alasdair. He had played a major role in her dreams. Heat flushed her cheeks as she remembered. He’d swooped in from the sky like a super hero, wrapped his arms around her trembling frame, and carted her off to the cave. Ah, his gentle touch. Settled in his arms, she had feared nothing. He had pushed stray hairs from her face, stroked her forehead, and whispered words she didn’t fully understand.

  She rolled onto her belly and grabbed her sketchpad from the nightstand. With sure strokes she outlined Alasdair’s features. Darkening in certain areas, she considered his eyes. Something about them seemed so familiar. Colored pencils in hand, she shaded them blue. She knitted her brow and tapped the pencil to her temple. It seemed right, but…

  Again remembering her dream, she snorted. The flowers had melted. Right, had they been plastic stuck in the ground?

  Pleasant smells wafted to her nose. Her belly rumbled, as if she hadn’t eaten nearly enough last night. Sighing, she placed the pad and pencils on the nightstand and checked the clock. There never seemed to be enough time.

  Clad in her robe and slippers, she padded downstairs and sauntered to the kitchen. In her head she calculated the time needed to prepare for school. Time to shower and dress… time to fix her hair… time to— the thought failed as she pushed through the kitchen’s swinging doors.

  Chase stood in front of the stove. He wore a pair of jeans, a shirt partially buttoned, and tapped his bare foot in rhythm to his whistling. Light shone on the droplets of water that clung to his blondish hair. Defined shoulder muscles rippled as he moved.

  He spun on his heel and came to a dead stop, holding a spatula. How could he look so domesticated?

  “Omelet?”

  Maddie’s gaze lowered and she gulped. Washboard abs led to a tapered waist. Heat flushed her face and she looked back up, her face burning hotter.

  He grinned and repeated, “Omelet?”

  Oh, yeah. She nodded.

  He lifted the skillet and poured the prepared omelet onto an empty plate. She grabbed it and hurried to the table in the corner of the room, where they’d sat the night before. She bowed her head and said grace. When she finished, he sat across from her with another omelet and a mischievous glint in his eye.

  Surely he knew how attractive he was and what he was doing to her. She took a bite of the omelet and choked. He pushed back his chair and rushed to her side, patting her on the back. If he did the Heimlich maneuver, she’d faint.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  His cologne took her breath away and she struggled to nod.

  He seemed unsatisfied and squatted beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  And suddenly she was furious. She wanted to yell that she’d never be okay. Her parents were dead, her grandma was in a coma, and she was cooped up with him! A handsome, attractive, caring male! She wanted to throw caution to the wind and beg him to love her. But she didn’t want to just love him now; she wanted to love him always. Yelling wouldn’t accomplish that. Again she nodded.

  He returned to his seat. The heat from his gaze, stolen in between bites, made her squirm.

  Finished eating, he leaned back in the chair and she snuck another good look at his physique.

  “What time should we leave for school?”

  Maddie averted her gaze because she couldn’t speak and look at him at the same time. “In about an hour, I guess.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay and clean the kitchen while you get ready.”

  “Okay.” Slowly she chewed the omelet, making each bite last. Drat school. Once the plate was empty, though, she couldn’t readily move. It would be so much nicer to stay home instead. They could go to the hospital… Her smile died.

  Chase grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” One more fast change of directions from her emotions, and she wouldn’t be.

  Their intertwined fingers lay in the table’s center, between their empty milk glasses. It seemed symbolic, but of what, she wasn’t certain. She tried to relax, but though her mind commanded it, her appendages refused to obey. Maddie lifted her eyes and their gazes locked.

  “Maddie,” he said in a ragged whisper.

  Longing raced through her veins. She couldn’t take it and ripped her hand from his grasp, pushed back her chair, and fled upstairs. Too much. It was all just too much.

  Maddie gathered her clothes and escaped to the bathroom. The hot water fell from the shower tap and she stepped into the spray. It cascaded over her head and down her frame, washing away her thoughts and worries. When she stepped from the shower, she felt like a new person. As she dried off and dressed, she whispered the mantra, “I can do this. I can do this.”

  Right. And if she chanted for much longer, she’d make them late for school. She tossed the towel over the rack and exited the bathroom.

  Chase stood in the hallway. He had buttoned his shirt and put on his shoes. His blond hair had dried and neatly curled atop his collar. Their gazes caught and held. How long they stood mesmerized by each other, Maddie didn’t know. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and crush her lips to his, she wanted to…

  “Are you okay?”

  No, she didn’t want to. She fisted her hands and said, as rudely as she could manage, “Chase, please quit asking me that.”

  A crestfallen expression settled on his face. She had hurt his feelings. Great, now she had another reason to feel guilty. She hadn’t wanted to be harsh but her erratic, uncontrollable emotions were making her crazy. Opening her mouth to apologize, she closed it just as quickly. If he was mad at her, then it would be easier to keep her distance.

  And boy, oh, boy, did she need to keep her distance for right now. Maybe for all day. Maybe for…

  She fled to her room, grabbed her books, and returned to an empty hallway. Glancing through the foyer windows downstairs, she cringed. Dark clouds covered the sky. She sighed and grabbed an umbrella from the big vase by the door. The knob rattled in her hand as she stepped onto the porch. A loose board cracked beneath her boots, and she moved to the left and made a mental note not to step there again. She’d better tell Chase, too. Chase…

  He sat behind the wheel, staring into space and looking forlorn. Maddie squared her shoulders and made her way to the truck. The first drop of rain splatted on her nose.

  It was going to be a long ride.

  Chapter 24

  The drive to school was a silent affair. Chase gripped the steering whe
el, his knuckles bared white, and concentrated on seeing the road through the heavy thunderstorm. Wipers swished back and forth as rain descended in solid sheets. The wind howled and pushed against the truck. Thunder rumbled and lightning struck a tree nearby. Maddie jumped. He would have asked if she was okay, but she’d pretty much cured him of that and he kept his mouth shut. The darkening sky fit his mood perfectly. At least they didn’t have to worry about forest fires from the lightning strikes, not with that downpour.

  He pulled under the school’s drive-through shelter. She unzipped her backpack and removed an umbrella. Placing it on the seat between them, she sent him a pleading look.

  “Thanks,” he said as she opened the door and slid out.

  Maddie shifted the heavy pack higher on her shoulder as she vanished into the building. He parked and grabbed the umbrella. Even shaded by its breadth, he was drenched by the time he made it inside.

  She waited at the front door, wearing a grimace and holding paper towels. “Let me take the umbrella and you can dry off.”

  He took the offering and dried. Entering students, half sheltered passengers and half drowned drivers, flowed around them, and without conferring they stepped sideways into the corner while he finished.

  “Chase?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— well, it’s just…” She stopped and shrugged.

  He placed his finger over her lips. “It’s okay. I should have realized you get asked that a lot.”

  Her eyes flashed gratitude. “We better get to homeroom or we’ll be late.” She grabbed her backpack and led the way.

  The day dragged. Rain beat against the roof in a steady pattern. As the math teacher droned on and on about cosines and how to work their scientific calculators, Chase’s mind wandered and his gaze drifted. He latched onto the brightest spot in the room — Maddie.