by Lee French
Only a few minutes after she climbed into bed again, the door creaked open and shut. “Claire,” a voice whispered. Dim light coming in through the window glinted off Drew’s glasses when his head popped up next to her. “Are you awake?”
Had it been anyone else, she would have stayed silent. “Yeah.”
“Can I come up?”
“I guess.”
The bed creaked, groaned, and danced as he climbed the ladder at her feet. “Budge over.” He crawled up the bed and pushed her until she rolled onto her side. Two years ago, they’d both gotten into trouble for doing this. Nothing had happened between them; they just both couldn’t sleep and needed more warmth than their thin blankets could provide. He settled in behind her and held her close.
“Everyone was talking about you at school today,” he murmured into her ear. “‘Claire is a real badass. Don’t mess with her. She’ll kick your ass if you stare at hers for too long.’ I mentioned you’d punched a teacher in the face at your old school. I think it scared some of them.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“What’s wrong, Claire? What happened to you last night?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She breathed in his scent, a combination of soap, sweat, and toothpaste. “Tell me stuff will be okay.”
“Stuff will be okay. You only have one and a half more years until you age out. I’ll be out already by then, and we can get a place together. Just you and me. Some dinky apartment with cheap linoleum and a stove with only three burners working. Go to college. Work crappy jobs until we’re done and have degrees.”
It sounded nice, a fond dream to hope for. When she turned to smile at him, she discovered he’d taken off his glasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. She lay there, not quite face to face with the one person she felt she could trust, her eyes flicking back and forth between his. The skin between his brown freckles darkened and his cheek radiated heat.
“Claire, you’re really pretty.” He brushed her forehead, pushing some of her black hair aside.
She wanted him to kiss her. Not sure how to get him to ask or say what she wanted, she wriggled around to face him fully and had no idea what to do with her arms. Should she put this hand on his chest and the other one on his hip? Both on his chest? Wrap this one around herself and put the other one on his arm?
He seemed just as flustered. Both of them shifted, hands tentative and awkward. Finally, he touched her cheek and pressed his lips to hers, hesitant and light. The only kissing Claire had seen recently happened in movies, and she did what the actors did, making him follow suit. His mouth tasted minty.
The door opened to let in two girls chattering about something. Claire and Drew froze at the same time, and she willed her roommates not to look, not to notice, not to tell anyone. They talked about math homework, and Drew gulped when it sounded as though they were changing into their pajamas. He kept his eyes on her, showing her that he didn’t care about them. His fear echoed her own. If this foster father caught them together, one of them would get locked in the basement, and then the system would make sure they got separated for good.
Just when Claire thought they’d never leave, both girls chattered their way out to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door on their way out. “Be careful,” she whispered to Drew. He kissed her again, this time with a swift brush of his lips on hers, then he jumped down from her bunk and hurried to the door. After peeking out, he ran for it, headed up the hall to the room he shared with three other boys.
She hugged herself. Everything with Justin had been a fabrication, a lie. This was real. It felt good. Tomorrow, she and Drew would ride the bus together, and have gym class together, and meet out by the tennis courts at lunch. It would be a good day, a better one than the last two.
Chapter 10
Justin
Tariel plodded up the street with all the enthusiasm Lisa had for taking a bath: none. “You should have fought harder for her.”
“Shut up.” Justin clenched his jaw and wrenched the reins to the side, forcing the horse to take the cross street.
“Ow, quit it. You can’t just let her go like that.”
“I said shut up.” He stewed, wanting to punch something.
“Pull your head out of your behind, Knight. Where are we going?”
Crossing his arms to restrain the urge to thump her between the ears, he grunted. “Take us home. She’s safe enough with the cops for now.”
“It’s going to happen in the worst possible place.”
“Yeah, and that’s life. Stuff a cork in it and take us home. I need to think.”
“Great. That means it’ll be three days before we do anything else.” She flicked her ears when he scowled and launched into a gallop.
He’d stopped that ur-phasm from clawing her up any more than it already had, and yet she freaked out and told him to leave her alone. It reminded him of the first time he’d held Lisa and she wouldn’t stop crying. The midwife had said that was normal, that babies cried for the first minute or so. Despite that, he’d felt helpless and weak, stupid and foolish. In that moment, he hadn’t been able to think of anything he wanted more than the power to comfort the tiny bundle in his arms. Then Marie had solved it by waving her magic mommy wand. Somehow, he had a feeling she couldn’t fix this so easily. He’d have to figure it out for himself.
The scenery rushed past as they streaked north faster than the traffic, matching the pace of dark clouds rolling in. They reached the farm, and he took Tariel to pull her saddle and bridle off, then brushed her down. For once, she kept quiet, sensing the sourness of his mood. When he finished, she gave him a long, slow blink and settled in her stable, where she’d be warm and dry through the incoming storm.
Outside, the clouds opened up and dumped on him. He slogged through the mud in the sudden downpour, getting spattered and soaked. The axe caught his eye. He tugged his mailed gloves back on, grabbed the axe, and set up a log on the old stump in the clearing. Ignoring the rain pelting down on him, he swung the axe and wedged it into the middle of the log, cracking it in half. He wrenched the two halves apart and dropped one while setting the other up. Another swing split the half into quarters.
Three logs later, his mind had settled, as it always did. He stacked up the new firewood in the lean-to behind the farmhouse to dry and leaned the axe against the wall. In the cottage’s mud room, he peeled soaked boots, socks, and gloves off, and hung his cloak up. Since the socks were wet enough to drip, he left them behind and went inside.
“Daddy!” Missy ran and jumped into his arms, convinced he would catch her.
He lifted her up and kissed her forehead, then set her back down. “Not now, Pumpkin. Go play with Mommy.” Thank goodness Lisa would still be at kindergarten now.
“What’s wrong?” Marie remained sitting on the floor where she’d been playing with the toddler. Her brow knit with concern.
She had enough to worry about and deal with. He mustered a smile and waved her off as he headed for the bedroom. “Nothing. Just a—” He sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“I thought you’d be longer. Where’s Claire?”
“It’s complicated.” In the bedroom, into which he did not now flee, he dismissed the enchantment holding the pauldrons to his chainmail and settled them on their stand. With another wave of his hand, the chain shirt released its tight grip on his torso and arms, and he wriggled out of it.
“Complicated like you’re having pervy old man thoughts about a teenage girl, complicated like you can’t stand her because she’s a teenage girl, or complicated like you did something stupid?” Marie stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed and her mouth drawn down in an annoyed frown.
“I’m not a pervy old man,” he grumbled with his back to her, yanking his shirt off. “My dad is a pervy old man, not me.”
She huffed out a half-laugh. “You did something stupid, didn’t you.”
Glancing back, he caught her smirking at
him and scowled. “It was not stupid.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest and glared out the window. With the ratty old brown curtains drawn aside this morning to let the sunshine in, he had a great view of the already lessening storm. “I did what I had to do.”
Marie came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Her head settled on his shoulder, and she brushed her cheek against him. “You did what you thought you had to do. It had an unintended side effect, right?”
He sighed, always soothed by her touch. “Something like that.”
“What happened?”
“An ur-phasm tried to kill her. I killed it and she freaked out.”
She kissed his shoulder. “I have a feeling you’re leaving some parts out.”
He frowned, realizing he could have handled that situation better. “I questioned it first. Tariel bit its head off.”
Squeezing him around the middle, Marie stayed quiet.
“It had a cat shell. She saw me offer it a chance to live, then my horse killed it, making me the Mighty Kitten Slayer.” Letting his arms relax and fall to his sides, he shook his head. “You’re right, I did something stupid.”
“I love you, Jay.”
He lifted a hand to cover his face. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve done in a week.”
“Give yourself a little credit. It’s been at least a month since you did anything that dumb.”
“I’m not ever going to live down that mud thing, am I?”
She stepped around until she stood in front of him and tugged his arm down, then smiled up at him. “Missy is scarred for life, I’m sure.” She brushed imaginary lint off his arm. “I know you always do the best you can with what’s in front of you.” She cupped his face in both hands. “And I don’t regret choosing to marry you over the other options I had. I wouldn’t trade Lisa or Missy for the world, or you. I wish some things could be different, but I don’t have any regrets.”
“I don’t deserve you.” He settled his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. Her lips mesmerized him and her warmth reminded him what he fought for.
She grinned. “No, you really don’t.”
Their kiss had to end when Missy clapped and squealed with joy from the doorway. She ran in and thumped into his leg, then wrapped her pudgy little arms around it and squeezed. “Daddy, I want hugs and kisses too!”
“Oh, really?” He let go of Marie to grab the girl and swung her up so she could hug his neck. “Maybe we should sit on the couch and read a book together.”
Marie hooked a finger through one of his belt loops. “What about Claire?”
He carried Missy and dragged Marie into the family room. “She’ll be fine for a day or two. I’ll let her calm down and think, and go find her this weekend. Speaking of this weekend, maybe we should have a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”
“Yay!” Missy pressed her chubby little face to his and giggled. “I want a Grandpa Jack story!”
“We’ll get one for you tomorrow.” Justin smiled, grateful for a sweet little girl who could banish his worries with her laughter.
Chapter 11
Claire
“Claire, you need to go to the office.” Ms. Caper hung up the classroom phone and pointed at the door.
“What? Why? I didn’t do anything.” Sniggers throughout the room made her scowl.
“I don’t know. Class is almost over. Take your things and go.”
Grumbling under her breath about stupid interruptions and being singled out, Claire slung her notebook and English book into her backpack, grabbed it, and stormed out of the room. For one wild moment, she thought about running for it again. The animals attacking her had been a weird anomaly, and the fantasy her mind had constructed of Justin and Marie and the two girls had given her something to retreat to when things got bad.
She wanted to see Drew again at lunch more than she wanted to run away. When she reached the office, a man in a tan suit stood chatting with the elderly secretary and Mr. Gary. All three turned to look at her.
“You’re not in trouble, Claire.” Mr. Gary beckoned her closer. “Detective Avery just wants to talk to you.”
The middle-aged man in the unremarkable suit offered his hand to her, and she took it, finding him attractive for some reason. The attraction had nothing to do with romance; it felt like kinship, brotherhood, trust. He smiled at her, and, despite having no reason to, she smiled in return.
“Hi, Claire. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you want Mr. Gary to be present?”
“She’s a minor, Detective, I’m afraid that’s required by law when a guardian can’t be here. There’s also the small matter of your conflict of interest here.”
Claire’s head turned from one man to the other, and she frowned at the principal. “Can you just leave the door open and sit out here?” She had no idea why it mattered, but somehow knew Mr. Gary’s presence would make the experience less pleasant.
“I can get the school counselor. That would be more proper.” Mr. Gary waved a hand to the secretary.
“It’s alright,” Detective Avery said. “This won’t take that long.”
Mr. Gary echoed Claire’s frown. “That’s not really…”
“It’ll be fine. I’ve already told you it’s not about Brian.” Detective Avery put his arm around her shoulders and guided her inside the principal’s office. He left the door open, as she suggested, and nudged her into one of the chairs. She sat obediently and watched him. “So, Claire.” He sat in Mr. Gary’s chair.
“Yes, Detective?” She sat up straight, eager to help him.
He smiled at her again, and she beamed. “According to a police report, you were found yesterday in the company of this gentleman.” He pulled a picture out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and set it in front of Claire. The image showed Justin from a distance, looking to the side with his face in focus. She recognized his short black hair, the shape of his shoulders, and, of course, the brilliant green cloak.
It struck her that his cloak had been in such good condition when everything else in his life, from his work boots to his couch to the towels in the bathroom, seemed faded and worn and frayed. The cloak could have been made yesterday and resisted the mud he tromped through around his house.
Avery continued. “The officer noted you were, quote, screaming and hysterical, end quote. This man is also noted as admitting to killing a cat, though he claimed it to be accidental.”
Claire’s smile faltered and she slunk into a slouch. None of that had really happened. Her sanity depended on all of it being a weird fabrication designed to shield her from whatever other awful thing had happened Wednesday night.
When she remained silent, Avery put a hand over Justin’s picture and leaned in. “Claire, I’m really not here about you beating my son up. You were suspended, and I’m sure that losing your parents has made things hard for you. The only thing you really damaged was his ego and pride, and in all fairness, he probably deserved that.”
“What?” She squinted at him, confused.
Avery blinked and sat back. “Did you not know Brian’s last name?”
“Uh, no. I just transferred here on Monday.”
“Then what’s the matter? You look like you think you’re in trouble.”
She reached out and touched the picture with one finger. If all that had really happened, then she freaked out because the nicest person she’d met since her family died had killed a cat that had clawed and bit her. From the way it had launched itself at her yesterday, it must have intended to kill her.
“I…don’t know.” She brushed her fingertips across the image. None of this made any sense. She wanted to believe in the possibility of people like Justin and Marie existing. Time and time again, she’d been shown the world didn’t work that way, but she still wanted to believe.
“Do you know his name?”
“Justin.”
“And his family name?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Claire.”
She looked up and found him giving her a polite yet skeptical smile. “I really don’t know. Did he do something wrong?”
“He stole a priceless piece from the Oregon Historical Society, and he’s wanted for questioning in connection to another theft in Salem, in addition to a few counts of fleeing the scene and half a dozen other minor charges.” Avery drummed his fingers on the desk in the silence. “How did you meet him?”
She shrugged and dropped her eyes to her lap. “Just ran into him. Accident and all.”
“I see. Did you spend the night with him on Wednesday?”
“Yeah.” Her nose itched, so she rubbed it.
Avery’s fingers beat on the desk three more times, then he stood up in a sharp, decisive motion. “I’m taking you into protective custody, Claire.”
Stunned, she blinked and stared at him. “What? Why?”
“I’m concerned about your safety, especially when I can now add child endangerment, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and statutory rape to the charges against him.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet with strength she didn’t expect, then hustled her out of the office. “Let’s keep that quiet, Mr. Gary,” he said as he dragged her past him.
“No, wait. Nothing like that happened! He’s married with little kids and was really nice.” She struggled against his grip to no avail. “I told him I got suspended, so he just gave me a place to stay!”
Avery shoved her out the door and flashed a sad smile at the secretary, then hauled her to his unremarkable sedan. He yanked the rear passenger door open and threw her inside. Before she recovered from the toss, he grabbed her hands and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her. “Settle down or I’ll make you settle down,” he growled.
Claire froze, terrified of this guy. How did she have thought for even a moment that she could trust him? “Is this about Brian?”
“No, Claire, it’s not. But I will admit that incident does make this all the sweeter.” He threw the door shut.
While he walked around the car, she tossed herself at the door and found the handle didn’t work. The bastard must have engaged the child-safety locks. To her surprise, the rear seat belt snapped down of its own accord and buckled itself, holding her in the seat. She lunged against it, and it didn’t give her any slack.