Ignited

by Dantone, Desni

I was stunned. I was saddened. My heart ached for him.

  Of all the times for my smart wit to abandon me, it would be now and so, for no good reason other than it was the first thought that popped in my head, I said, “It was her clothes in the cabin, wasn’t it?”

  With the trace of a smile on his face, he nodded.

  “I thought you said...”

  “I said I didn’t have a girlfriend, meaning currently. I didn’t say I never had one.” He hooked a mischievous eyebrow. “I’m not a saint.”

  “Technicality,” I chided with a teasing tone.

  “I didn’t want to talk about it.” A silent ‘then’ hung in the air between us.

  I shifted and placed my chin in my hand. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

  He studied me for a few heavy seconds. “What do you want to know?”

  I picked at a loose string on the bedspread between us and thought of an easy question to get him started. “How did you meet?”

  “We started development around the same time and were in a lot of the same classes.”

  I rolled my eyes at the vague response. I wasn’t expecting graphic details, but geez, that was the bare minimum. Maybe he wanted to keep some memories for himself?

  “How long were you together?”

  “About six years.”

  Wow, that was an eternity. He must have really loved her.

  “What happened?” The question was out before I could stop it. I held my breath, wanting to take it back, afraid he might not want to open that old wound, but he merely shrugged.

  “Nobody really knows. She got sent on a mission to Chile. I was in South Africa when word started coming in about a failed mission. I didn’t know it was her team until I got back. By then, a recovery unit had already returned empty handed. Her whole team was gone.”

  Gone, as in dissipated. Vaporized, as in no bodies to bring back. He must have been devastated.

  “It was a long time ago,” he added unnecessarily.

  Seven years. Long time or not, I didn’t think losing someone you loved was something anyone ever truly got over. He was being indifferent to portray toughness. Why did guys think they had to do that?

  Instead of digging for the emotions I knew he was suppressing, I put on a teasing grin. “How about girlfriends since then? You did inform me you weren’t a saint.”

  He looked like he already regretted telling me that and raised his eyes to the ceiling, either to count the number of girls in his life or to question why him. I hoped it wasn’t the first.

  Not that I cared.

  “Nothing serious,” he said carefully.

  I had always suspected that expression was guy code for nothing more than one night stands. Seeing as how Nathan was avoiding eye contact, I was more sure now than ever. Sometimes I hated being so perceptive.

  In an attempt to hide the crimson I knew was on my cheeks, I dropped my head to focus on the loose string in the bedspread. After a moment, I felt Nathan’s eyes on me. I glanced up and, if only for a second, saw a look on his face I had seen once before—the one where I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Before I could ask him about it, he shifted, and I was distracted in a major way.

  He pushed up, his arms straight under him, his rigid forearms in my face, and peered at the clock on the night stand behind me. His shirt drifted, permitting me a peek of bare skin between his navel and the waistband of his track pants, which were hung appealingly low on his hips. It was so hot I had a brief daydream of running a hand along his enticing happy trail.

  “Six-fifteen.” He flopped to the mattress and buried his face in the pillow with a groan. “You never get up this early.”

  What could I say? Waking from that dream to find him sleeping beside me had jump-started my reflexes. I hadn’t made it thirty seconds without touching him.

  “We have a big day ahead of us,” I offered as explanation.

  “If only I knew what to do.” With a good deal of reluctance, he rolled out of bed. Collecting his watch from the nightstand, he said, “I’ll go get us something to eat and find a phone to call Travis.”

  I sat up and crossed my legs in front of me. “Why don’t you call from here?”

  “I’d rather not, in case we end up staying here another night. Wherever I call from, I don’t plan on returning to.”

  I tried to appear indifferent at the thought of spending another night here, in the same bed, with Nathan. Fortunately, only I knew the real reason for my flushed skin. Thank God mind reading wasn’t a specialty he possessed.

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  He sat at the foot of the bed to put his shoes on and glanced over his shoulder. “You stay here. I won’t be long.”

  * * *

  He was gone for a long twenty minutes, during which I changed clothes, brushed my teeth, fixed my hair, repacked the bag, and looked through the peephole no less than a dozen times. There was nothing I hated more than being separated from Nathan. The last time we were separated, a body double tried to kill me. The time before that, someone tried to kill me. There was a definite pattern there, and I didn’t like it.

  I tried taking my mind off demigods, and hybrids, and Skotadi, and everyone wanting me dead by staring at the television. After flipping through all the channels three times, and not remembering one thing I saw, I got up to spy through the peephole again, just in time to see a dark shadow pass by. A second later, a knock vibrated the door, and I jumped back with a squeal. I clamped my hands over my mouth and waited for the door to be kicked in. Or explode.

  “Kris?”

  My knees nearly buckled at the sound of Nathan’s voice on the other side. Still cautious, I cracked the door open, with the chain lock in place.

  Nathan stared at me curiously. “Can you let me in? It’s a little cold out here.”

  “We should have established a password before you left.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I shook my head.

  He made a face. “You’re a pain in my ass. You know that?”

  Sounded like Nathan. The last body double had acted...off. This one glared at me like I expected. But, after the last time, I needed better proof than that.

  With a forced smile, he lifted the Dunkin Donuts bag in his hand. “I got chocolate, with sprinkles. Only the real me would know that’s your favorite, right?”

  Donuts were my weakness, and somehow he knew it. And he was right. Only Nathan would know that, though I wasn’t sure how exactly he did. My stomach was growling at the sight of the donuts, so I didn’t bother pressing for the how’s and why’s. I let him in and he tossed me the bag.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You just startled me.” I grabbed a donut and one of the two cups of coffee, and perched on the edge of the bed. “You know, after the last time.”

  His gaze drifted to my neck, where the bruises had faded, but remained a reminder of my latest brush with death. “Maybe next time we’ll come up with a password first.”

  “Maybe donuts should be our password,” I offered around the heaven, in the form of chocolate, in my mouth.

  Nathan leaned against the table across from me as he drank his coffee. “I got ahold of Travis.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “He gave me the address to a safe house nearby. He’s sending a team to meet us, and they’ll escort you to the base from there.”

  I nodded along with the plan up until the last part. Something about the wording didn’t sound right. The fact that he was dodging eye contact confirmed my suspicion.

  “You said you, as in me. You’re not coming?” Until then, I had never considered the possibility that Nathan and I would part ways. The thought both surprised and terrified me.

  He shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know. I haven’t been to the base in years. I’ve had my own place.”

  “But the Skotadi found us there. It’s not safe anymore.”

  He nodded like that was only a minor obstacle. He could sim
ply sell it and move.

  I shouldn’t expect him to put off getting his life back in order to hold my hand through all of this. Except that was exactly what he has been doing.

  “Chances are I’ll end up going anyway,” he said, cutting into my thoughts. “They’ll probably want to debrief me.” He paused and stared into his coffee. “But I won’t be staying.”

  I nodded numbly as I gazed at my feet to avoid his eyes. By the time I put on a face of indifference and finally managed to look at him, he was already staring at me, waiting. There was a look in his eyes I didn’t recognize. Anxiety? Regret? Whatever it was, it didn’t fit with him, or his words.

  Probably just afraid I’m going to lose it and finally go bat crazy on him. “When do you want to leave?” Aside from a slight quiver in my voice, I thought I managed to sound uncaring enough. Too bad Nathan didn’t buy it.

  “After we eat and pack, I suppose,” he said softly.

  “I already packed.” And I had lost my appetite. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Even as I said the words, I retreated to the bathroom to hide the tears that threatened to deceive me. In case he didn’t already know I wasn’t thrilled about the plan, I slammed the door shut behind me.

  That should have given him the message loud and clear.

  CHAPTER 20

  After a stop at the city library in Jackson, Tennessee to get directions, we learned that by nearby, Travis meant seven hours. That didn’t help my sour mood. Another cold day on the motorcycle was the last thing I wanted. I also didn’t have a choice. At least, on the bike, I could be alone with my thoughts and make good on my silent vow to not speak to Nathan.

  From what I had spied over his shoulder of the directions, the spot on the map where we were headed was an hour or two east of Lexington, which meant we spent most of the morning backtracking halfway across Tennessee, before slipping north into Kentucky. Shortly thereafter, the Appalachian Mountains appeared ahead and, as we passed over the rolling hills, I almost felt like I was coming home to Boone.

  One look at the sign off the interstate shattered that dream. Morehead, Kentucky, Hardwood Capitol of the World. It was a small blink-and-you-miss-it kind of town, apparently well-known for their hardwood making abilities, and not much else. They, at least, had a sandwich shop, rolled into a convenience store, rolled into a gas station, where we got gas and food. Sitting at a rusty picnic table overlooking the pumps, we ate in silence. I felt Nathan’s eyes on me, but I kept mine downturned to avoid meeting them. I was that pissed off.

  That and I feared I would break down if I looked at him. I didn’t want him to know how much his abandoning me hurt, mostly because I didn’t understand why it did so much. Until I figured it out, I was okay with him thinking I was angry. He expected anger. He was used to it.

  Good thing he didn’t know how my opinion of him had changed over the weeks. I had gone from admiring him my whole life, to hating him after I got to know him, to tolerating him, to liking him, to downright weepy at the thought of this being our last few hours together.

  What that suggested wasn’t something I was able to understand yet, let alone try to explain to him. It was easier to avoid him, under the impression that I was mad at him, than face the facts. In a few hours, he would be gone, and I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He would be out of my life.

  I don’t want him out of my life.

  I shut down the pesky voice in my head before she got too pushy. She didn’t get a say in this. Hell, I didn’t get a say in this. It was happening whether either of us liked it or not.

  Once we’d finished eating, I hopped on the motorcycle behind him, eager to have the helmet to hide behind as I struggled to control my emotions. At the red light, waiting to pull out of the parking lot, Nathan lifted his visor and looked over his shoulder.

  “It’s about twenty minutes outside of town,” he said.

  I nodded my understanding and he turned forward, sliding his visor down. With my arms around him, I felt, rather than heard, his sigh. A tear slipped free and, for a moment, I nearly caved. I wanted to squeeze him and tell him I was sorry for blocking him out, that I didn’t mean any of it. Most of all, I wanted to ask him not to leave.

  The light turned green, we took off without another word, and I was left both devastated and relieved at once. Really, I have never been more confused in my life. I was going to need all of the twenty minutes to get a grip.

  As the town disappeared behind us, I pushed it all—my thoughts, my feelings, my fears—down deep enough that I could ignore them, far enough that I could pretend not to care, far enough that I didn’t have to figure out what they meant. He was leaving, and then, it wouldn’t matter.

  We were deep in the middle of nowhere when Nathan slowed and pulled into the dusty dirt parking lot of an antique gas station, with one lonely gas pump that I doubted was functional from the looks of it. The crooked sign over the front door declared that we were at Joe’s Country Store. It didn’t look like anyone, including Joe, had been there in a long time. Standing in the immense lot, staring up at the crumbling shack, I had the sense that Nathan and I were the only survivors of the apocalypse. I expected to see a tumbleweed roll past any moment.

  “Don’t tell me this is it,” I said to Nathan as I climbed off the motorcycle.

  “No. The safe house is another mile down the road.”

  “Then why are we stopping here?” I took off my helmet, hoping the evidence of that lone tear was gone. Nathan didn’t seem to notice. Then again, he barely looked at me.

  “I’m not going to drive up to a potential safe house until I know it’s safe.” He concealed the motorcycle around the side of the building, retrieved the two handguns from the storage compartment and tucked them into the waistband of his jeans. He took the bag off my shoulders, swung it over his and, with one last wistful glance at the motorcycle, took off across the parking lot.

  Geez, he was more upset about leaving the damn bike than leaving me.

  “Don’t worry,” I chirped as I fell in beside him. “If everything works out, you and Old Red will be reunited in a few hours.” I had intended for there to be a drop of sarcasm. It came out saturated in bitterness.

  Nathan let it bounce off him. It would seem he was taking the mature approach. I decided to stick to my initial plan to not speak to him at all, and we walked in silence for about half a mile before a farm came into view up ahead. I figured it was our destination and almost asked Nathan, but bit my tongue.

  There was a beat and then he said, “Yes, that’s where we’re going.”

  I shot him a dirty look. “I didn’t ask.”

  “You wanted to. You almost did. I thought I’d help you out since you’re not talking to me. That way you could save face.”

  I scoffed like he was so far off base it wasn’t worth a response.

  He laughed harshly. “Oh, come on. You’re not that hard to figure out.” He looked at me coolly. “You’re mad because you think that I’m ditching you? Is that what it is?”

  “No.” I wished I could have put a little more oomph behind it but, the truth was, he was dead on.

  “Then what is it?” He grabbed my arm and turned me to him.

  I tried to avoid his eyes, but I caught a glimpse of stormy blue and lost my resolve. “Actually, that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I snarled. “You told me that you were the only one I could trust, and now you’re going to abandon me with—”

  “I’m not abandoning you,” he cut in.

  “Then what would you call it?”

  He walked away without an answer.

  I caught up to him. “See? You can’t even look me in the eye.”

  “I can’t stay with you forever, Kris,” he muttered without looking at me.

  I nearly tripped over my feet as my world crumbled from beneath me. On some level, I knew he was right. He couldn’t stay with me forever. I shouldn’t expect him to, but hearing him say it sucked all the air out of me and left me fee
ling...hollow. Instead of showing the pain his words caused, I kicked the attitude up a notch.

  “No, I guess fourteen years is long enough,” I sneered.

  “You won’t need me anymore.” He kept his voice low and controlled in a way that only infuriated me more.

  “I never did need you. I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. You just showed up. What are you doing in my life anyway?” I spit out the question I had danced around for weeks, only to demand the answer now, in anger.

  He turned to me, his own temper boiling. “Which is it, Kris? It sounds to me like you don’t want me around, yet you’re mad at me for leaving.” He threw his arms up. “Forgive me for being confused.”

  “I’m mad because you forced yourself into my life, practically kidnapped me, told me to trust you, and I did.” I lifted onto the tips of my toes for emphasis. “You’re the one person I’ve trusted my whole life and you’re leaving after everything has been turned upside down.”

  I was mad—so mad—but more heartbroken than anything. Something I said must have gotten through, or he noticed I was terrifyingly close to crying, because he softened. A little. He looked like he wanted to say something, and maybe almost did, but thought better of it. Instead, he looked down his nose at me with a shrug that said, I don’t know what else to do.

  “Forget it.” I spun on my heels and stormed away from him. The tears were coming and I didn’t want him to see. I swatted at an escaped drop before he caught up to me.

  “Kris...”

  “I said forget it, Nathan. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will,” he said gently. “And anyway, I’m not leaving until I know you are.”

  “Don’t do me any favors. I’ll wait for the army to get here. You can go.” I jutted a thumb over my shoulder.

  “It’s not like you think. I’m not ditching you. Once you’re with the others, you won’t need me anymore. You’ll be safer with them.”

  “Oh, well, that’s reassuring.” I knew I was being irrational. I also didn’t care. I was upset and mad, and wanted him to suffer my wrath until I got over it.

  Which would be never.