by C. L. Stone
It made it difficult for Kota to sneak out late, doing what he needed. The Academy required odd hours for different jobs. He preferred if he was gone that Max stay in the house. He felt his family was safer that way.
Kota hopped up the steps to the door, using his key to unlock it. He opened the door slowly to minimize the creaking. A fresh wave of cool air hit him, and he stepped inside.
Max followed, and then instantly marched down the hallway toward the living room. The dog sniffed the air as he went. He’d sweep the house, making sure everything was okay. If someone was out of bed, he’d yip. If someone was there who wasn’t supposed to be, he’d bark.
Kota left the garage door open for the moment. He suspected he’d be back out with Max in a few minutes. He wasn’t sure how long Max had been put in, but now that he was awake and moving, he’d probably want outside in a little while.
When Max yipped and then returned without a further sound, Kota tiptoed down the hall and opened another door, revealing a set of stairs. Max shot up the stairs ahead of him, climbing to the top and sitting down, waiting.
“Lay down,” Kota said, as he climbed. Max went for a spot near the bed and curled up on the floor. Kota was tired, and needed to catch some sleep before tomorrow. He had to go to the mall, and was expected to be up early to finish a few chores before he could take off.
Rain tapped against the window. Kota sat on the bed, taking off his tennis shoes.
The shadow was still on his mind. It wasn’t that he was paranoid. Maybe he was, but when he had a feeling something wasn’t right, he wasn’t usually wrong.
Something felt wrong now.
He moved to the window, squinting through the drops that splashed against the glass. He checked the street, and studied the house up the road.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, as his eyes adjusted.
The shadow was back, only now it was moving toward the street. It was still at the two story gray house, moving along the driveway slowly. There was a hump on the back, like a book bag. Small figure.
He stared, waiting. He couldn’t be absolutely sure, but he was pretty sure it was the younger daughter.
“What in the world...” He stopped short, breathed in and held it, as if the girl down the road might hear him.
He continue to study her, trying to be sure. Is it really? Yes, it has to be. She had such a small frame, and the height was hers. It was also the way she walked, the way she kept her head down. She never looked up.
She stopped at the street, and waited.
At first he wondered if someone was about to pick her up. Somehow, he didn’t think so.
For the past few weeks, the younger girl always snuck out the back door, dashed to the woods behind her house, and walked the trails. He knew, because he spotted her a few times.
Each time he tried to find her, though, he either lost her, or when he got close, she dashed out of the woods. He understood her to be shy, which was probably why she never simply waked the street where someone might see or approach her.
When he realized he probably wouldn’t be able to approach her normally, he spent time in the woods, waiting. She’d come around, climb a tree, and sit and watch the day pass. Daydreaming.
The thought of her face flashed in front of him. Sweet. Pretty. Haunted.
He felt it the moment he saw her. She was scared. He didn’t know what of.
She stood now at the end of her drive, still waiting.
His heart leapt, and he pressed his hands against the window, his breath causing a slight fog against the glass. He was silently urging her to go back inside.
What are you doing, crazy girl? It’s late and it’s raining. Where are you going?
It wasn’t likely he’d get answers just watching her. He waited, watching.
She stood still, alone. Did she do this every night and he’d never noticed? Or was this something more serious. She had a backpack. He had a feeling this wasn’t a nightly event. She wasn’t just going for a stroll. Maybe she was running away. What could she be running away from?
The only problem was, what should he do now? He continued to watch, not wanting to take his eyes off of her in case she took off somewhere. Should he get involved?
Echoes swept through his mind, of Mr. Blackbourne warning about getting involved in situations you didn’t know. It was basic Academy training. Never put yourself in front of someone if you don’t know who they are and what they are capable of. Don’t expose yourself to people you don’t know. Don’t get involved unless you know for sure what the story is.
The problem was, there might not be a story to discover if she was running away.
His heart told him if he didn’t take this chance, he may never have another. He couldn’t get over those haunted eyes. Could he stand by and watch her disappear forever?
No, even Mr. Blackbourne would have sent him out.
He thought about calling Nathan, maybe waking him up to join him in following her to see where she went. Kota’s problem was, if she took off and ran for it, two guys chasing after her probably wasn’t the best way to make an introduction. As it was, he hesitated because he had no idea how to approach her. He’d tried before to cut her off just to say hello while she was walking in the woods, and she always took off running if he got anywhere close. Her hearing was excellent. Even with his training, he was never quiet enough to approach her undetected.
He didn’t have much time.
In a flash, he calculated his options. He had one shot at this. He’d either scare her off into the night, or maybe if he was lucky, he’d simply scare her back inside the house. He’d have to watch out for her, make sure she stayed inside. Hopefully he wasn’t sending her back in to be hurt, or into a dangerous situation. She didn’t look abused, but abuse didn’t have to be visible on the surface. He knew that too well.
“Max,” he said in a whisper. “Let’s go.”
Max was up and at the stairs in an instant. Kota stuffed his shoes back on, grabbed a poncho and was throwing it over his body as he dashed toward the stairs.
Out in the garage, he stopped, checking out the scene again. For a moment, he lost her in the dark. He swallowed, hoping she didn’t take off in the minute it took him to get outside.
No. There she was. Standing. Waiting. For what?
His heart thundered. His hands were normally steady. Nothing shook him up, not after so many years of seeing such disturbing and amazing things. The Academy trains you to think on your feet, to be aware, that no matter what, you are protected, so never fear anything. Fear weighs you down and can be distracting.
He was afraid now. What if he tried to stop her, and she called the cops? What if her parents heard her rushing back in, fearing for her life, and they came out looking for him? Or what if doing so caused her to get into major trouble?
Max stood by his feet. His nose was up, sniffing the air. Kota sensed his dog could tell someone was out there. He was being quiet, waiting for a command. Kota reached for his lead hanging from the wall. He was forming a plan, but unsure exactly how to execute.
Kota wouldn’t move until she did. He was wondering if she was reconsidering. Maybe she realized it was a mistake. It was raining, a little cool for an August evening. It was only going to get worse tonight, with thunderstorms later. It was late. Maybe she had planned it, but hadn’t totally thought it through. If she went back inside, he’d look out for her, and tomorrow if she went to the woods, he’d be sure to intervene somehow.
She needed someone. Staring at her now, he felt it so strongly. Maybe she didn’t know it, but he could help. Whatever it was, he knew people who wouldn’t turn her away. The Academy could do amazing things for the right type of person.
One, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand. He counted, only because he didn’t know what else to do. The waiting was difficult.
When he got to ten, the girl moved. She picked her foot up, and placed it on the street. She turned in his direction and started to walk. Slo
wly, keeping to the shadows.
He had to take a chance. In the few seconds she started moving, he came up with a thousand different scenarios, each one he didn’t like. He wanted her to trust him, to talk to him. How?
“Max,” he said. He shifted Max’s lead in his hand, gripping it.
Max stood quickly, his nose pointing out, waiting for the command.
Kota bit his lip, debating one last time, but the Academy doesn’t want team members to hesitate. If it really is the right thing to do, go for it. Kota could only hope she wasn’t going to get hurt, as this was already risky.
“Get her,” he commanded. “Take her down.”
Max took off in a shot, heading right for the girl.
Sang
Kota cringed as his dog took off toward her. The moment Max ran at her, Kota was sure he’d made a big mistake. She’d run into the garage. She’d scream. She’d break her arm.
Max didn’t hesitate. Once the order was given, he’d see it through. Kota held the leash and ran after him.
Max collided with her, and the shadow dropped back. Her book bag fell away. No scream.
A sudden thought that Max might have knocked her out scared him. “Hey!” He called, hurrying. “Are you okay?”
She moved, looking at him. She was in shadow, so he couldn’t get a good look, but the fact that she was moving was a good sign. Max sat on her legs, holding her down like Kota had trained him to do.
Kota slowed to a jog so as not to scare her. When he got to her, he caught Max licking her arm. At least Max knew she wasn’t a threat. Maybe he went easy on her. “I’m sorry,” Kota said. He made a motion with his hand. “Max, get off of her.”
Words tumbled around in his head, mostly a billion questions. He was worried she was really hurt. He wondered if she’d run once she was upright. He wanted to say something, anything to make her not run away. Give me a chance. You can talk to me.
The fact that she wasn’t saying anything, not even yelling at him about his dog, worried him.
When Max climbed off of her, Kota’s instincts took over, and he knelt beside her. He slid an arm around her shoulders and started to lift, but then hesitated. It was a normal reaction, helping someone when they’ve fallen, but he could already feel her stiffening. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
She shook under his touch. Now that he had an arm around her, she felt small, fragile, and he had a strong desire to lift her at that moment, away from the dirty street and wet ground and out of the rain. He resisted the urge.
She shifted, shoving her arm toward over her chest, and spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice soft. He’d never heard her voice before, but it had a flowing sweetness to it. “It’s fine.”
He could only see the outline of her face—shadows covered her features—but he knew she was lying. “No, you’re not,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and friendly. “You scraped your arm.” She hadn’t pulled away yet. She’d barely even moved. He shifted and put an arm around her waist. Maybe she’d run, but at least he’d help her up. “You can stand, right?”
“I think so,” she said.
He stood slowly, testing her to see if she winced at any point. The wind picked up, sending a fresh wave of rain and chill around them. Kota moved, trying to shield her from it as much as possible. What a night to be out.
But now that he was up close, he clearly saw the book bag was packed full, and she seemed nervous, even in the shadows. She stayed quiet. She didn’t want anyone to know she was out there. She wasn’t pulling away now. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe he shouldn’t risk it, but if he made what he was thinking sound like it wasn’t a big deal, she might go for it. “I’m going to take you to my house,” he said, realizing after it probably sounded more like a command.
She turned her head, and her face caught a bit of light from down the road, giving her features an angelic glow.
His heart was pounding as if he’d done a hundred pushups. His cheeks heated as he realized he was hanging on to her. He wanted to help, but couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty she was.
He sucked in a quiet breath. No need to get carried away. She’s in trouble.
He spotted the book bag, and moved to pick it up. It was heavier than he’d expected. Was she carrying books with her? How long was she planning on being gone for? Maybe she was trying to run away.
Maybe he caught her just in time.
“Let me take it,” she said.
“No.” Kota lifted the bag over his shoulder and then wrapped an arm around her. He turned her toward the street. Her clothes were soggy. His poncho stuck to her. How far was she planning to go in clothes soaked like that? “Let’s get you out of this rain. We’ll assess the damage inside.”
“What about your dog?” she asked.
He started to smile. She was the one hurt and she’s worried about Max, the dog who had knocked her down? “He’ll follow.”
She started to shake a little, and he held firm, steady. He wasn’t sure if it was the chill or if she was in pain somewhere, or maybe it was from fear.
He wished he could convey to her she didn’t have to worry. He knew trust took time, but right then, he wished there was a way to make her believe. She seemed to need it right now.
Kota guided her two houses down from hers, back toward his garage. He crossed in front of the security light, triggering it to help guide his way into the darker garage. The wind pressed the poncho hood against his head, almost in his face, but he could see enough to get them inside.
Max went to his crate, expectant.
“Not now,” Kota said.
Max sank to the floor, his head dropping.
The security light went out, but Kota was far enough inside to get to the door. “Come on,” he said to her, trying to sound encouraging. If he got her inside quickly enough, maybe she wouldn’t be so scared. He tenderly reached for the arm she cradled, tugging her inside.
Once they were in the downstairs hallway of his house, he released her, and she fell in behind him. He checked over his shoulder. She followed close, her eyes squinting in the dark.
If she really wanted to leave, she probably would have. Kota blew out a breath, crossing his fingers that if she’d come this far, she might actually tell him what was going on.
He thought about taking her into the kitchen, but didn’t want to risk waking Jessica or his mother. He opened a door in the hallway, revealing the staircase that lead to his bedroom above the garage.
He started up, checking again to make sure she was following. She seemed to hesitate at first, but then started climbing. He hurried over to the computer desk in the corner, touching a lamp a couple of times to brighten the place up.
He turned, and seeing her in the better light, he froze. He’d seen her during the day and had tried to determine her age, but worked out that she had to be his own age: sixteen or close to it. Her blond hair was wet, making it darker, and it was pulled back, messy now. Her cheeks and nose were pink from blushing or from chill or both. She was wearing a poncho, and he hadn’t realized it until now. Her jeans and shoes were wet.
Her eyes, light green in the light, really drew his attention. Beautiful, aware, terrified, haunted...and above it all, curious.
He hadn’t been able to get this close to her since she’d moved in. She was stunning from a distance, and more so even now. He tried to smile to show he was friendly, and started counting: ten fingers, two eyes, one, two, three, four...light bruises on her arms but they appeared old. Was that a light scar at her elbow? And then he noticed the bright red scrapes along her arm. He felt a pang of guilt, and even more guilt when he realized that while he was sorry for hurting her, he was entirely relieved that she also wasn’t too injured and managed to trust him enough to follow him. Try looking on the bright side.
“I’m sorry,” she said, jarring him from his thoughts. “I should probably have taken my shoes off. They’re soaked.”
Internally, he was grinning a
t her concern, but he tried to suppress it a little. “I’m not worried about the carpet right now. One thing at a time.” He took the book bag off his shoulder, and then headed to the bathroom. He wanted to get a good look and bandage her up. “Take that poncho off and let’s look at your arm.”
The bathroom was snug, even for one person. He pressed a palm against his forehead, wiping away some of the remaining drops of rain.
She struggled for a moment with the poncho sticking to her. When she managed to get it off, her shirt was sticking to her body.
He swallowed, urging himself to turn quickly, but he couldn’t help but look. Part of it was expecting some other form of injury, and part of it was her shape and the sudden surprise of seeing it in such a way.
When she tried to fix her shirt, he realized he was staring and focused on the poncho, taking it from her to hang over the curtain rod. Focus, he told himself.
He reached for her arm, trying to turn it enough to check it. There was a gash, and she lightly tugged, wincing.
He looked closer, testing it, and the guilt settled harder into him at seeing the blood. “My god,” he said. “I’m sorry. Really. This was my fault.”
She shook her head. “It was your dog. Not really his fault. He was excited, I guess.”
If only that was how innocent it really had been. He’d meant well, of course, but he wished there had been a better way. “He was excited,” Kota said. He moved quickly to stop the urge to tell her more, worried he might reveal something he shouldn’t. He found the first aid kit, and took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She didn’t appear to need stitches, but he’d have to clean it up to find out how bad it really was. At the same time, he came up with what he’d prepared for his story, trying not to out and out lie by talking about real things that were technically true. “I’ve noticed the lead was getting thin in the middle for a while. When he smelled or heard you, he took off and it broke.” Okay, small lie. Did he have to explain everything? “He’s not usually that bad. He needed to go out but hates this weather. So, I’m sorry about that. I should have replaced the lead before now. And I don’t know why he jumped on you. He never does that.”