Page 104 of Reading Between the Lines
Smoke filled the air, and hot tendrils of fire reached out toward me. The bookshelf burned. The rug. The desk. I couldn’t get to any of the windows. As a source of oxygen, the flames rage with maximum fury in those areas, blocking my path.
I spun back to the door, heaving and yanking and pounding on its surface. Only as pure panic descended did I remember that I’d locked it behind me from fear of someone coming in when I was unprepared.
I swung the dead bolt and crashed into the night, fresh, cold air filling my thirsty lungs. I ran, tripped, and ran some more. Coughing, I landed on my hands and knees a second time and crawled away from the cabin, vaguely aware that someone was in the woods. Someone had thrown those homemade firebombs into the cabin. To destroy me or evidence, I didn’t know.
A good twenty or so yards from ground zero, I settled near the base of a wide tree. Despite severe disorientation and a frantic flight, I somehow managed to keep hold of my phone. Screaming himself hoarse on the other end of the line was my boyfriend.
It took ages to stop coughing and form enough words to explain where I was. The minute Diem understood I’d gone tothe cabin, he unleashed a flurry of curses like I’d never heard before.
“I’m okay, D,” I rasped. “I’m okay.”
He couldn’t hear me, and I wouldn’t succeed in calming him down so long as I was out in the woods and he was back at the B&B without a vehicle.
With my back pinned to a tree, I squinted into the dark, trying to orient myself, acutely aware I could still be in danger. The cabin lit up the forest in a radius, but beyond that radius was a haunting abyss. In that haunting abyss lived a threat I couldn’t see. Between the shock and my compromised vision, I couldn’t tell which way I needed to go, and I couldn’t hear the river beyond the roar of the fire.
I glanced at the canopy overhead. So far, the surrounding trees hadn’t caught fire, likely due to the recent weather making the forest excessively damp. Using the tree trunk for leverage, I got to my feet and headed in the direction I assumed was the trail.
Diem continued to shout, but his voice was a muffled concern in the distance.
I tripped over several branches and got tangled in the undergrowth more than once. Remembering my phone’s flashlight, I used a trembling finger to turn it on. Nothing fixed the blur of not having my glasses.
“Diem,” I croaked. “Stop shouting.”
“I’m on my way. Get out of those fucking woods, Tallus. Right fucking now.”
“I’m trying. Gotta… find the path. I lost my glasses.”
A long moan traveled through the line, and I couldn’t tell if Diem was hurting himself in his urgency to get to me or if my predicament had unearthed painful emotions. Either way, I didn’t like the sound of it.
I focused on where I was going, carrying Diem with me for support, wishing he was there to protect me from whateverunseen threat I’d stumbled upon. The hairs on my neck stayed on end, anticipating a violent encounter at any moment. Would I end up in the river like Weston or with a bullet through my head? Neither sounded appealing.
I moved faster.
With luck and persistence, I found the wire fence and hopped it, tearing my pants a second time. From there, I easily located the trail and ran blindly into the night, shoes slapping the packed earth, lungs burning from smoke inhalation and exertion.
When I emerged into the parking area, Diem screamed into the lot, driving an ancient station wagon. He braked hard, kicking up gravel and spinning the tires as he came to an abrupt halt.
Diem blew through the door like a battering ram and came at me like a freight train. My head spun with adrenaline and fear, but the sight of a six-foot-six, two-hundred-and-sixty-pound tank barreling toward me was nothing but a relief.
He grabbed me roughly, and the next I knew, I was engulfed in a smothering embrace, the vitality of my ribs and organs compromised, but I didn’t care.
I tried to squeak a warning about his injury, but he didn’t hear me. Diem was spitting mad. He called me every name in the book. Nasty names. Ones that would have turned his grandmother pale. The whole time, he never let me go. I didn’t miss the tremble rocking his system. It vibrated through me.
After shouting himself dry, he deposited me on my feet beside the station wagon. The assault that followed was similar to a police frisking. Diem’s hands were everywhere, checking me like I was priceless china that couldn’t be replaced. “Are you hurt? Why do you smell like smoke? Answer me, goddammit. Your pants. They’re ripped. Are you scratched?”
“D… Diem,” I rasped. “I’m okay. I’m okay, I swear.”
He clutched my face between his palms, and I saw something I never thought I’d see in my stoic, surly boyfriend. Tears pooled on the surface of his eyes. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled. “What the fuck were you thinking?” He said it over and over and over. Each time with more anger, his entire body an earthquake.
When a single tear escaped, Diem released me and punched the station wagon like he might have a bag at the gym. And again and again and again. He mercilessly unloosed a tangle of emotions on the vehicle. The noises leaving his throat were inhuman. They spoke of fear… and something far more potent.
I didn’t try to stop him. Diem came apart at the seams, but I knew better than to move or interrupt. He wasn’t hurting me. The pain was inside of him, and he needed to let it out. The thing growing in his chest over the past few weeks had burst. I knew Diem. I saw all he didn’t say, and this unspoken thing terrified him every time it surfaced. He’d succeeded in pushing it away… until now. Now, it overwhelmed him. It consumed him. It took over.
The punches eventually stopped. His knuckles bled. His cheeks shone in the moonlight with tears he’d been unable to keep at bay.
Diem’s breathing hitched as he slowly and gently rested his forehead against mine. “Tallus.” My name weighed a thousand pounds on his tongue.
“Can I touch you now?”
