One Step Closer(11)

There was a small, dark form cowering in the corner, on the floor. Caleb’s adrenaline began to flow, but he was smart enough not to make any sudden moves.

He glanced at the security panel by the door leading from the kitchen out into the giant garage. Nothing was amiss; the system was on and working, but there was definitely someone there.

He quietly moved to the island and set down his water, and opened a long drawer where the knives were kept. His hand folded around the handle of a particularly large chef’s knife, and he pulled it out silently, sliding the drawer shut simultaneously.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice harder than normal, taking three stealthy steps in the direction of the shadowy figure, his movements controlled. He’d put down bigger opponents than this with just his fists, but if this was an attempted robbery, there might be weapons to contend with. “I said who’s there?”

“Caleb, it’s just me. Wren.” Her voice was soft and she sounded frightened. Wren. Her name seemed to suit her tone, even if her general style was more in line with Satan.

He visibly relaxed, the hand holding the knife falling to his side, irritated that his stepsister would be sneaking around the house. “What are you doing hiding in corners, for f*ck’s sake? I could have cut you.”

He hadn’t made any effort to talk to her or learn anything about her in the two months since she’d moved in with her horrible mother, and he didn’t intend to start then.

“I was—” she stopped. “I’m sorry. I was…”

“Spit it out, girl, and get up off of the floor, already.” Caleb walked back and put the knife away with a clang and slammed the drawer too hard. He was irritated that she was even living in his house, let alone lurking around like a scared rabbit.

She scrambled to her feet, and though Caleb hadn’t turned on the main light in the room, he could see she was dressed in some ungodly black tent of a shirt over baggy pajama pants. He frowned when he looked at her face, as he closed the drawer after replacing the knife. Why was she wearing that awful makeup at this time of night?

Wren was stunned just looking at Caleb. He stood there in the low light and she stared at him, unable to move. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was just—”

Caleb’s face twisted as he went back and picked up his water to untwist the cap again. “You were just, what?”

She was holding something in her hand and she was trying to hide it; and then looked down toward the floor. “I was looking for something to eat.”

Yeah, he thought. She could use some meat on her bones.

“Have at it,” he said casually, his hand waving at the refrigerator. “And the pantry is through there. Jonesy keeps the place loaded. You don’t need to sneak around like that.”

Wren looked up at Caleb as he went to the pantry, threw open the doors loudly and went inside. It was a walk-in and he went in to rummage. After his workout, his stomach was rumbling, too.

He found some crackers, bananas, and cereal bars, then went to the refrigerator to get some sliced cheddar cheese, the chicken, and another bottle of water. Wren was still standing in the same place he’d left her and Caleb’s eyebrow shot up as he brought the food to the table. He pulled out one of the chairs, not caring about the noise he was making. “Well? Sit down, why don’t ya?” he asked, annoyed. He wasn’t used to someone acting so scared. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

He wondered if she was bulimic or had other issues considering her oversized clothes that hung on what, judging by her face, he could tell was a waif-like body.

“Shhhh!” Wren said softly.

“Why?” He asked wryly?

“Aren’t you afraid of waking everyone up?”

He shook his shaggy head with a wry grin and sat down. The sweat was drying, and sticking a few wayward tendrils of his dark hair to his forehead and side of his face.

“Um… no?” He shrugged, his tone laced with incredulous sarcasm. “I’d rather it bother the shit out of them, but it’s not likely. This house is way too big to hear what’s going on in here from way up in the bedrooms.”

“Oh,” Wren said quietly, and seemed to visibly relax. “Okay.”

He nodded at the food in front of him on the table. “Sit.”

She’d done as she was told and then reached for the plate he’d handed her helping herself to a few crackers and a piece of cheese, and placed them on it. “Thank you. Aren’t you having any?”

He hadn’t planned to eat, since he’d just worked out, but thought if he went back to his room, she might not eat anything, and she looked like she’d blow away. Besides, he’d already decided he was starving.

“I don’t usually eat after a workout.” By then she’d taken a small bite, and he sat down. Her eyes glanced up, guiltily, as if she’d done something wrong by eating.

“Oh,” she said, using a hand to cover her mouth, full of food.

Caleb watched her as she shoved her mouth full. “But, I’ll make an exception.” He reached for a cereal bar and started to open the wrapper. “You look like you’re starving to death,” Caleb observed. “Why?” He’d heard about girls who starved themselves, or ate and then forced themselves to throw up. He’d never seen her eat much either time he’d had to suffer through dinner with the family since Wren and her mom moved in.