Page 33 of Burn

“If fruit juice is orange juice, that would be great.” There was something endearing about his puzzlement over the drinks.

“OJ coming up.” After he set the glass in front of me, he gripped the back of a chair and gave me a hard look. “Tough question time—are you a breakfast in the afternoon or evening kind of person? Or do your meals need to match the time of day?”

The intensity in his eyes suggested he was dead serious about the question. “It’s five o’clock somewhere in the world. Which means it’s also morning somewhere.”

“That’s not an answer.” The twitch of his lips betrayed his smile.

“Well, then I guess you’ll have to just trust it and surprise me.”

Straightening, he nodded. “Game on, Gracie. Game on.”

Chapter

Twelve

VOODOO

It was before dawn when I opened the door to the bedroom where Grace Black slept. Whereas Bones stayed in with her the night before, we’d let her rest peacefully, though I had checked on her twice. Nightmares and disturbed sleep were normal for this kind of stress. Both times I looked in, however, she’d been sound asleep.

She was, even now, curled over on her side and sleeping. She looked even tinier than when she was awake. The thick, silky look of her black hair added to the pixie effect. Alphabet was right to call her a pixie. A low light was on in the bathroom. She’d left it on when she went to sleep and I’d not disturbed it or her. Comfort and self-soothing came in a wild variety of methods and choices. No one would judge her for it.

The dim glow from the open bathroom door highlighted the soft curves of her face. Paler than in her many photographs and ad campaigns, the real woman seemed no less insubstantial than her images. That fragility generated such a demand for her. The far more interesting part of her was that core of steel inside of her.

It was an excellent quality for her to possess. She was going to need it in order to survive. I didn’t cross the room nor did Itouch her. I just said her name, “Grace.” Then repeated it. Her eyes snapped open when I said it the second time.

The sudden flush, coupled with too wide eyes, and the shallow breaths betrayed her fear response. Completely normal. Unless she wanted to discuss it, I wasn’t going to draw attention to it.

“We’re moving out this morning,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Just dress, stuff anything you want to take into the bag and we’ll take it with us.”

She sat up, the tousle of her hair giving her a windblown look as she blinked at me. “Coffee?”

“On the road,” I promised her. “The sooner you get ready, the sooner we’re gone.”

After blowing out a long breath, she shoved the blankets off and rose. Dressed in a t-shirt that hit her mid-thigh, she headed for the bathroom. I stepped out and closed the door.

Everything else was ready, as soon as she emerged, we’d go straight to the car in the garage. Then out that way. I’d planned for an extra fifteen minutes if she required it, she was ready in five.

I was impressed.

Taking the bag from her hand, I pointed her along the hall in the opposite direction from the kitchen. She had on a pair of running shoes, leggings, a fresh t-shirt, and a hoodie. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her cheeks were pink from being scrubbed.

She looked sixteen and I felt like a dirty old man checking her out.

“Ready?”

With one hand over her mouth to smother the yawn that tried to escape, she gave me a half-nod then said, “Yes.”

“Good.”

Promptness was a good quality. So was speed. Waking her up and making her move immediately also distracted her from asking questions. Parked in the garage was my Jeep Grand Cherokee.

It had specialized upgrades and armor to make it more bullet resistant. At the passenger door, I opened it to let her climb in. Standing right next to her drove home just how much shorter than all of us she was. The contrast was unsettling particularly when she had to put a foot up onto the running board and grip the side to climb into the vehicle.

Once she was inside, I closed the door then opened the door to the back seat and dropped her bag in there with mine. In no time, I was in the driver’s seat and backing out of the garage into the deep dark of pre-dawn. The sunrise was at least another hour off.

We’d be well on our way by then. The air was a little damp and chilly, so I turned the air to warm. It didn’t need to be hot, but she didn’t need to get a chill either. I half-expected the questions to start once we were on the road, but Grace just sat with her arms folded and her head turned to stare out the window.

The detente lasted until I pulled off at the first drive-thru coffee place. I put in my order for a large, black coffee, no sweetener and then glanced at her.

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