Page 5 of Burning Embers

I sometimes hate being a teenage girl.

“And she’s okay with me sharing her room?” I ask, feeling inexplicably timid.

I move towards the bed on the left side of the room and set down my duffel bag. The farther inside the room I get, the stronger the scent becomes. It’s like I’m standing inside a giant-sized bouquet made up of every flower imaginable. I wrinkle my nose instinctively and try to hide the cough bubbling up my mouth.

Please don’t tell me I’m allergic to whatever…thisis.

Pink?

Am I allergic to pink?

The absurd thought brings a reluctant smile to my lips.

“Is she okay with this?” Hale repeats my question in a mocking tone and then scoffs. “Honey, she’s the one who purchased your bedspread and most of the furniture for you. She would be here now if she didn’t have school.”

“Oh.”

I really don’t know what else to say to that strange revelation.

Why would she take such an interest in me? I already know I’ll disappoint her. That seems to be my MO. There’s no way I can live up to her expectations—whatever they may be.

I’m too skittish, too rough, too cruel. Life hasn’t been kind to me, and in turn, I haven’t been kind to it.

“Okay, Hale.” Amanda claps her hands together from behind me. “I have a few things I need to discuss with you in the kitchen, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Hale places a hand on my shoulder, and I try not to wince or pull away.

The longer it stays there, however, the more comfortable I become. I don’t know how to articulate it with words. Something about Hale drains the tension from my body and puts me at ease. He seems to radiate a kind, fatherly vibe unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Let me just take care of this with Amanda, and then we can head out and do some shopping.”

That same arrow of trepidation I felt earlier pierces my chest yet again.

I try to tell myself that normal people give things to others without wanting anything in return.

I try to tell myself that Hale has done nothing to make me so wary of him—the exact opposite, in fact.

I try to tell myself that everyone is innocent until proven guilty.

All of that doesn’t stop the icy claws of terror from gripping my heart and squeezing.

I blame all of those turbulent emotions for what happens next.

Hale releases me just as an exuberant voice exclaims, “Holy shit! It’s the new girl!”

Arms wrap around me from behind, and my fight-or-flight instincts kick in. It feels as if I’m breathing vinegar instead of air. Razor blades take up residence in my throat.

Before I can even think through my actions, the stranger has been flipped over my shoulder.

And my knife? Yeah, that fucker is pressed against the intruder’s throat.

Three

IZZY

“Izzy!” Hale yells in alarm, just as Amanda exclaims, “Isabella!”

The man underneath me lets out an “oomph” of pain, though the noise quickly transitions into a bark of breathless laughter.

---