Page 17

When had that happened?

Absently, I noted that my heel was bandaged, and now I saw that he was stroking my foot, caressing it.

Shouldn’t that feel good?

Shouldn’t I feel something?

“Aw, Baby, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?”

“I guess so,” I admitted softly. I’d been gone a long time. When I’d woken up in the hospital, it had been like there was some kind of barrier all around me. I’d liked it. I didn’t feel pain, I didn’t cry and I definitely didn’t scream. Those few times when I felt some emotion start to come close to the surface, like when I spoke to Evie, I would grab the bedsheet and wrap it tight around me, like a cocoon, and it would block out reality. By the time I left the hospital, it was like the sheet was inside my head, blocking everything out.

But right now, I was having trouble blocking out Zarek.

He continued to rub my foot. I looked at him and saw his concern. He was smiling. That was odd.

“Do you have a question?”

He’d always been able to read me, but I was surprised that there was any expression for him to take note of.

“You’re smiling.”

“Of course I am. You’ve given me a chance to get up and personal with your pretty feet, why wouldn’t I be smiling?”

What is he talking about?

I tried to pull away from him, but he did something with his thumb to the arch of my uninjured foot. My toes curled, and a sharp sensation knifed through my body.

I jerked my foot away from him and scrabbled backward on the couch, until I hit the arm.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No! It felt good. That’s worse.”

He looked at me, his green eyes dark.

“Chloe, why is feeling good something bad?”

I swung my legs over the side of the sofa and limped over to one of the armchairs. “Numb. I like numb.” I wrapped my arms around myself and hunched over as I huddled deeper into the chair.

Zarek sighed. He was watching me as if I were some bug under a microscope to analyze.

“Stop looking at me.” Was that my voice sounding so desperate? I swallowed and tried again. “Don’t you have something else to do?” I asked in a monotone.

“I’ll start a fire. You’re cold.” He got up from the couch. I could have sworn he muttered something about having to go naked.

“Did you say something?”

He looked over his shoulder and gave me a bland look. “Nothing.” He crouched before the hearth and started the fire.

It seemed odd that a firefighter would actually be setting a fire. I remembered back to when he’d been twelve and he’d first said that was what he wanted to be when he grew up. I never doubted that he would do it. I hadn’t known what I wanted to be, but one teacher convinced me to believe in myself. Mrs. Pearsall had taken me aside in fourth grade and told me that I was special. Back then, she was the only person who had ever believed in me. Me. Just me. Not me and Zoe. Not one of the Avery twins.

Just me.

She’d be pretty disappointed in me now.

“You’re thinking pretty hard over there.”

I frowned. The fire was blazing. Shit. How had that happened. I hated that I kept losing time.