Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(9)

“I know, and I’m not trying to. I just . . .” His breath caught and he gave a strangled chuckle. “God, why is this so hard?”

Eyeing the prominent bulge in his jeans, I resisted the urge to chuckle at his unintentional joke. The earnest look on his face as he watched me stilled my tongue though, and I thought I might have an idea of what he was trying to say, but I didn’t want to assume just in case I was wrong.

He met my gaze, and I could see a swarm of self-doubt buzzing behind his eyes. It was almost as if we were back in the school corridor and he was offering to show me the local sights again. “I just want you to be sure that you want this, that you want me, before we go any further. We come from two different worlds, and mine isn’t safe for you. Being with me will be dangerous.”

“Clay, the world is dangerous to me because there are people like the Rain in it. I’m no stranger to living day to day, or doing whatever is needed to survive.” Although Dad did most of the actual theft and fraud, I knew how to evade capture when I needed to.

He frowned as he reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m just saying that I’m willing to walk away from that part of my life for you, but I can’t be with you unless I know that you’re aware of the risks.”

I nodded. “You won’t hurt me,” I said with a confidence I almost believed. He’d had the opportunity to do so on a few occasions now. Despite his words of caution, I didn’t think he was a threat. At least not at that moment. The echo of the fear I’d lived with for the last two years was still present in my mind though.

“I won’t,” he agreed, “but that doesn’t mean my world won’t come back to haunt us.”

“If I said no, that I didn’t want this and walked out of here, will the Rain stop hunting me?” I knew the answer as well as he did.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, he shook his head sadly.

I trailed my finger along his cheek, before cupping his face in my palms. “Then any danger they pose isn’t your fault, is it?” I pressed my lips against his, eager to get back the mood from earlier.

He pulled away from me again. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

“What’s wrong with now?”

“I want you to go home and think about what I said. If you’re willing to try to see where this might lead, then come back tomorrow.”

“And if I don’t come back?”

He couldn’t meet my gaze when he said, “Then I’ll have my answer about how you feel.”





CHAPTER FIVE


THE CAR behind me honked, and I glanced up at the green light, wondering how long I’d been sitting stationary. I was in such a state of shock as I drove home from my meeting with Clay that I was probably being a menace on the roads. For the second time, he’d awoken things deep inside me, only this time it was human desires and not a supposed mythological creature.

My head still spun at how quickly all of my assumptions had been turned on their head. He was right to send me away. I really did need to think about what he wanted, and what it might cost. For us to be together, I needed to be able to trust him implicitly. Despite the desire to kiss him for the rest of my life, I couldn’t give my heart to him until I knew for sure it wouldn’t be shattered again.

I was so dazed I almost forgot to collect the groceries that I’d promised Dad I’d bring home, only remembering when I reached the beginning of our street. Muttering to myself about my stupidity, I did a three-point turn as fast as possible in the old blue beast of a truck at least—and, after double-checking that my wig was in place properly, headed for the store.

Because of the last minute detour, I arrived home late. Dad berated me at first, but once I had the chance to get a word in edgewise, I offered the best apology I could.

“Sorry, Dad. I got caught up helping Mr. Lewis put away some inventory.”

Once upon a time, I would have been lectured for not calling him, but we were running without cell phones at the moment because they were too easily tracked and the landline at the house we were squatting in was disconnected.

“That’s okay. We had enough for dinner tonight anyway. How was your day?”

A goofy smile crossed my lips and fluttering wings chased each other around my stomach. “It was good.”

“Good? What happened to ‘I’m a cashier in a tiny store that has no customers’?”

I shrugged. “I guess today was just better than before.” I wasn’t ready to elaborate to him exactly why it was better just yet. Although I’d learned long ago that no good ever came from us keeping secrets from each other, I wanted to avoid the inevitable questions Dad would ask. At least until I had sufficient information to answer them myself.

“You look a little flushed. Are you feeling all right?” Out of a long-ingrained parental habit, Dad lifted his hand to my forehead but stopped himself at the last minute. My constant heat meant slight variations in my temperature due to fever were impossible to detect by touch.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trust me?”

He nodded. “Of course. If we can’t trust each other, what chance do we have in this world?”

My stomach twisted uneasily as I considered the possible consequences of lying to Dad. I could easily recall the paranoia and exhaustion that had equally taken hold of Dad during the years he’d kept my true nature a secret. His chestnut hair had hung lank and dirty over his forehead instead of rising in its usual unruly but somehow perfectly styled mess. It was almost as if that part of him was as tired of the constant running as I was.