Games of Fire

by Airicka Phoenix

  “I was thinking we wait for Mark to come get them. That way no one will see us with them and assume they’re together,” her father said. “Oh, and, Spencer, I got you this.”

  The hat her father shoved down on his head was black with loopy red writing across the top. It looked perfectly normal until she read what it said.

  “Ask me how I hang,” she read, and frowned. “What does that even mean?”

  Spencer’s tongue rolled over his teeth. “I could show you.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Sophie’s eyes widened in horror. “Dad, where did you get these awful things?”

  “I dunno.” Spencer grinned. “It kind of works for me.” He leaned in close to her to whisper. “Feel free to ask at any time.”

  She shoved him playfully, cheeks hot. “Perv.”

  Snickering, he slipped his shades on, which annoyingly, completely worked for him. They were simple black with a slight tilt at the corners. No rhinestones, or purple lenses or creepy, old lady vibes.

  “Switch you!” she said, holding out her leopard printed ones.

  He grinned in a way that, with the glasses, made him look devastatingly gorgeous. “Sorry, babe. Leopard print clashes with my sexiness.”

  Oh she wasn’t so sure about that. He could probably pull just about anything off easily with that perfectly chiseled body and angelic face and tempting lips and … She must have sighed, because the next moment, he was nudging the glasses slightly down the length of his nose to peer over the top at her with hot, dangerous eyes.

  “Careful, witch,” he warned, pushing the shields back into place, leaving her to watch after him moony-eyed, and quite possibly drooling.

  “Mark just texted me,” Jackie said when her phone buzzed. “He’s downstairs.”

  “Tell him to come up,” her father said, moving towards the door as if Mark was on the other side already.

  Ten minutes later, the hotel room was packed with five grown adults and two teenagers shoved off to one side while the grownups talked business. Sophie gave up trying to tell everyone what a horrible idea this was and sat with Spencer on her bed, listening as everything was planned carefully, right down to having her cell phone confiscated and her rights to make any phone calls, write any emails or send off any smoke signals revoked.

  Mark had brought Janice, much to Jackie and Spencer’s annoyance. The pair stood holding hands like a pair of moonstruck teenagers. It was very sweet in Sophie’s opinion, but Jackie looked like she wanted to stab someone in the eye with a lamp.

  In the end, fifteen minutes later, Sophie and Spencer were following Mark and Janice through the corridors, down to the lobby and into the underground parking area. They piled into the Dodge Caravan and pulled leisurely out of the parking lot. Sophie peered through the window at every person and car they passed, wondering if this was the person they were hiding from and if they’d seen them leave. Once they were on the road, she kept glancing back over her shoulder, wondering if that red Camry was following them, or that blue truck, or that red Pontiac. She exhaled a little more every time a car passed them or turned another way. Her heart dove into her throat every time one turned with them or seemed to speed up behind them. She hadn’t realized she was gripping fiercely at the door handle until Spencer took her free hand, the one balled on her thigh and gently stroked his thumb over the rigid knuckles.

  “No one’s following us,” he said gently. “My dad would know.”

  Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, Sophie turned to him. “How?”

  He smiled a little. “He watches a lot of crime shows.”

  That gave her no reassurance at all.

  “We’ll be home soon,” Mark assured her from the driver’s seat.

  Sophie dampened her lips. “Thank you for taking me in,” she said. “I know that can’t have been an easy decision what with me having a target on my head.” She tried to make light of it, but the words lodged uncomfortably in her throat, coming out weak and shaky.

  “We wanted to,” Janice said, looking at Sophie from over her shoulder, a genuine smile on her face. “We’ll do everything we can to keep you and Spencer safe.”

  “Thanks,” she said, not trusting herself to say more around the lump now choking her.

  “We have the guestroom all ready for you,” Janice went on, chattering on happily, possibly trying to ease Sophie’s uneasiness. “I hope you like peach.”

  Sophie frowned. “Peach what?”

  Janice giggled. “Everything.”

  It didn’t make any sense to her until she was shown to the guestroom and it hit her. The entire room was some kind of shrine for peaches. Someone had even drawn a mural of a peach tree on one wall, with the branches stretching like cobwebs around the room. There was peach colored bedding and bowls of plastic peaches on the nightstand.

  Sophie’s eyes bulged. “What … ”

  Behind her, Janice burst out laughing. She laughed so hard, she had to clutch her belly and the wall to avoid toppling to the ground.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Janice half sobbed, half panted. “I don’t mean to laugh, but your reaction is priceless.”

  Fighting back her own chuckles, Sophie turned to the woman. “What happened in here?”

  Janice shrugged, moving to step into the room, which took some maneuvering without bumping into Sophie or the doorframe, even when Sophie moved back to give her space. “It’s always been like this.” She turned to Sophie, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She dropped her voice low as if sharing a secret. “Jackie went through an insane peach faze when she was pregnant with Suzy. At one time, it was everywhere. Thankfully it stopped once Suzy was born, but this room remained.”

  Sophie wanted to ask why the other woman hadn’t changed everything after Mark and Jackie divorced. Didn’t most women try to erase all remains of the former wife? But the house hadn’t been touched. Jackie was in every part of it, right down to the children and peach infested room.

  “Thank you,” she said instead.

  Janice smiled. “I’ll come get you in a little bit for lunch, all right?”

  Sophie nodded, watching the woman hobble out of the room. She paused on the threshold though and glanced back. “Sophie?”

  “Yes?”

  She seemed to hesitate. “Think of this place as yours, all right? You’re welcome here.”

  Touched, Sophie opened her mouth to respond, but Janice was gone. Strange family, she thought, turning back to the room. She honestly had no idea what to make of them. There were so many layers, so many unanswered questions and too many toes just waiting to be treaded on. It would probably best to just bide her time, wait for the police to find the assholes doing this and then she can go home. Her home.

  “You again.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sophie started, not expecting anyone to be darkening her doorway. She turned and stiffened. “Jamie.”

  He leaned against the doorframe, hands lost in the pockets of his trousers. His hair was ruffled as if it had seen abuse under anxious hands. He looked rumpled and sleep deprived. There was a healthy beard growing around his jaw and his eyes were bloodshot and weary. He looked so far beyond the clean, handsome man she’d seen only days ago trying to flirt with her on school grounds.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, setting her duffle down and folding her arms.

  He put his hands up. “Easy, kitten. Sheath the claws. I’m not here to cause trouble.” He snorted. “But I’m sure that won’t stop you from running off and opening your mouth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You!” He jabbed a finger at Sophie. “Told Aimee I hit on you. That’s why she left. This is your fault!”

  “You were hitting on me!” she countered.

  “So?” He nearly toppled over when he threw his arms open wide. “Nothing happened! No one got hurt. You didn’t have to tell her!”

  “She attacked me! Your girlfriend is crazy!”

  “You should
have kept your mouth shut!”

  “Get out!”

  His eyes flashed. “This is my house!” But he tumbled out of her room. She could hear him muttering all the way down the corridor, hitting walls along the way. A door opened and then slammed shut. It was followed by a thud that nearly made her wince.

  She was still standing there, scowling at the empty doorway when Spencer stepped into the room. He raised both eyebrows at her furious expression.

  “The peaches aren’t that bad, are they?”

  Sophie blinked, mentally shaking herself. “The peaches are fine.”

  He walked over to her and lightly caressed her arms. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s just been a very long few weeks.”

  He nodded solemnly, but changed the topic. “Have you been given a tour of the place?” At the shake of her head, he took her hand and led her into the hall. He pointed down towards the far end. “Bathroom. Hallway closet. Dad’s bedroom. Jamie’s room. Suzy’s room. My room. Your room and stairs.”

  She laughed at his quick upstairs tour. He grinned, leading her downstairs. He showed her the main floor, but she’d seen most of it already. Along the hallway off the kitchen was the laundry room, a pantry and another guestroom—thankfully void of peaches. There was a stairway into the basement, but Sophie assured him she didn’t need a tour of that place. In the end, they wound up in the sitting room once more.

  “And that is it,” he announced at last.

  That was it? That was his entire childhood home? Where were the memories? The good times? The place he scraped his knee because he was roller skating in the house, or the little marks along the doorframe where his mother measured his height growing up? Then it hit her. He didn’t want to show her those things. In his mind, this place wasn’t his home anymore. All those memories of joy and happiness had been irrevocably tarnished by Janice’s presence. By his father’s betrayal. By Aimee’s lingering imprint. Her heart hurt for him, but she kept a smile on her face when he turned to her.

  “So what’s to do around here?” she asked.

  He grinned. “I could teach you how to play a decent video game.”

  She tried to be offended, but what was the point? He was right. She sucked at video games. “I could have been practicing since our last battle.”

  His eyebrow lifted, oozing with doubt. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really!” she answered with more bravado than she felt.

  He bowed at the waist, motioning with his arms towards the TV in the sitting room. “After you.”

  Not eager to fail miserably so quickly, she glanced around. “Can I call my parents first? I want to—”

  “You know they told us not to,” he reminded her and her shoulders sagged.

  “Oh right.”

  He touched her arm. “Come on. I’ll show you how to kill zombies.”

  The game ended before she even had the chance to move her character forward across the vast expensive of concrete. It looked like a school courtyard. There were basketball hoops and a big, red bricked building. But the entire place was crawling with bloodthirsty zombies and it was her job to get inside the building—without getting eaten—and rescue the survivors inside. She died two seconds after the screen flashed GO! Spencer laughed, agilely dodging and weaving through the dead figures lurching towards him. Part of her wondered why he’d even asked her to join him when he could do it so well without her.

  She watched him play for several minutes before retrieving her book and cuddling on the sofa. She reclined on the sectional with him sitting in front of her on the floor, back pressed into the chesterfield. He didn’t bother asking her to keep playing with him or why she was giving up, to which she was grateful. Getting slaughtered by creatures that slow, two seconds into the game was not good for the ego. But she didn’t miss how he turned the volume down as she settled in to read.

  That’s how Janice found them several hours later. She waddled into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator.

  “Have you two had lunch?” Janice asked.

  Sophie sat up, peering over the back of the sofa. “No. Can I help you?” She set her book down and hurried over.

  They made cold cut sandwiches. Sophie took her plate and Spencer’s into the sitting room. Janice left with hers without a word and Sophie wondered where she was going, but didn’t ask.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked Spencer.

  “Dad’s gone to work.” He dodged a zombie, his entire body twitching as if the creature was in the room with them, lunging for his throat. “Suzy’s at school and I don’t know where Jamie is.” Sophie did, but she kept that bit of information to herself, not wanting to go into details about how she knew.

  Sophie sat next to him with her plate. “Is it always this quiet?”

  Spencer jerked, whether it was because a zombie had just jumped out of the bushes or because he was answering her question with a shrug, it was unclear. “I guess. You won’t really see anyone unless it’s dinner time.”

  Sophie learned firsthand what he meant in the days that followed. Although there were six people in the house, she only ever really saw anyone when they came to get something from the kitchen or for meals. She didn’t really see Jamie at all and when she did, he was stumbling his way to his room, smelling to high heavens of body odor and whiskey. No one else seemed to notice, which confused her.

  “I think something’s wrong with Jamie,” she told Janice a few days later while she helped the older woman make supper.

  In the process of dicing carrots, Janice glanced up. “What do you mean?”

  Seriously? How did nobody else see it?

  “He’s kind of been, I dunno, drunk like every day, during the day and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t showered in like a week.”

  A small crease formed between Janice’s neatly plucked brows. “Oh that. It’ll pass. He always gets this way when Aimee pulls one of her disappearing acts.”

  It was Sophie’s turn to frown. “That’s another thing, where is she? Why hasn’t she come back by now?”

  Janice shrugged, scraping the carrots into a bowl. “She will. You can never tell with Aimee.” She took the bowl to the bubbling pot on the stove. “She was gone for two months the last time. Jamie was a wreck by the time she returned, but I guess that’s what she wants.”

  Sophie was appalled. “She wants to hurt him?”

  “Yes,” Janice said simply, gingerly pouring the contents of the bowl into the water. “I think it’s a game to her. It makes her feel in control. I think it’s because she’s so young and so desperate to keep Jamie’s attention.”

  Because Jamie was so much older, Sophie hadn’t considered just how old Aimee must have been. But now it dawned on her that Aimee was her and Spencer’s age and had been very young when she and Jamie got together.

  “What do her parents think of all this?” she wondered out loud.

  Janice sighed, setting the empty bowl down and setting her hands onto her lower spine, massaging the knot there. “You can’t tell Aimee what to do. She’ll do what she wants, when she wants. They were furious at first, as they rightly should be. Jamie was already an adult when things progressed between he and Aimee. Her father threatened to phone the police, have him charged.”

  “So what happened? Why didn’t he?”

  Janice shrugged. “Aimee wouldn’t let him. She threw an absolute fit, made all kinds of threats until she got her way. But that was Aimee. She never took anything calmly or rationally.” Soft brown eyes rose and met hers, twinkling with mirth. “She did not like you.”

  Sophie folded her arms. “Well I didn’t like her either.”

  Janice chuckled. “She came home after the first time she met you and she was just livid.”

  Sophie smothered the tiny spark of smug satisfaction. “Good. She was being horrible to Spencer.”

  The smile faded from the other woman’s face. “Yes. Spencer.”

  “What?” she pressed when the woman f
ell quiet.

  Janice shook her head. “Nothing. Spencer is special.”

  Sophie frowned warily. “There are different levels of special,” she said and Janice laughed.

  “Isn’t there?” And that was the end of that conversation.

  “Have you heard anything from my parents?” Sophie asked Mark later that evening as she helped wash the supper dishes. “Are they okay?”

  Mark passed her a plate. “They are fine. They are staying in a hotel in Langley.”

  Sophie looked at him. “How do you know this?”

  “Because I still keep in touch with Jackie, not by phone or text,” he said quickly when she opened her mouth. “We met at a diner in West Van yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone—”

  “Which is exactly why your parents asked me not to tell you. You need to stay here. So far nothing has happened and we want to keep it that way.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “No news from the police?”

  Mark shook his head. “They got the surveillance tapes from the hotel, but the guy was covered from head to toe. Even wore a ski mask. He’s not an idiot. But they will catch him,” he assured her when she didn’t say anything. “He’ll eventually make a mistake.”

  She didn’t have eventually. The lives of her parents and Spencer and Jackie were in danger now!

  “What if they don’t? What if he never stops and he’s never caught? What if they go after my parents or Jackie?”

  Mark placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sophie, they will catch the guy.”

  Despite the confidence in his eyes, Sophie couldn’t help doubt him. If the police hadn’t caught him this far in the game, they never would. The guy was just too clever, always covering his tracks.

  “Hey.” Mark gently shook her. “It’s going to be okay. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

  His determination to protect her baffled Sophie. She’d never met anyone who would so willingly risk everything to shelter a complete stranger. It went against everything she’d pictured when she thought of Spencer’s father.

  “Thank you,” she said for lack of better words. “I don’t know how to repay—”