Page 96 of Burn Like An Angel

“I want to go. We have to run.”

“We’re going to keep you safe, Rip. I promise.”

No. Nobody can.

The sound of the other two talking filters back into my awareness. They’re exchanging urgent whispers elsewhere in the hotel room.

“How long will it take you to forge a prescription? And do you know what she takes?”

“Of course, I do,” Xander responds. “Stay here.”

“Take a phone. Be careful.”

Hearing Xander grab something and leave, I immediately pull away from Raine. He can’t leave. I didn’t mean it. I’ll share my invisibility with him—he shouldn’t go out alone. It isn’t safe.

“Rip!” Lennox calls out. “I brought something back I think you’ll like.”

Skidding to a halt, I look between him and the door. “But, Xander…”

“He’ll be back soon,” Raine rushes to assure me. “I smell food. Are you hungry?”

I shake my head, reluctantly turning away from the door. Lennox has started emptying the bag he brought back, laying out takeaway cartons. That gnawing in my belly is back. Tiny ravenous butterflies.

“Come and eat something,” he encourages.

“I don’t have time to eat!”

“Then I can’t show you the other thing I got.” Lennox raises an eyebrow. “Food, Rip. I need you to eat something.”

Tiptoeing closer, I follow Raine over to the table. “What’s the other thing?”

“Something that will help. But food first.”

“Come sit with us,” Raine adds with a smile.

They both sit down, passing plastic cutlery between them before digging into their food. The salty, savoury scents assault my nose. Spices. Herbs. Something rich and fragrant. The butterflies are going berserk now.

“Mmm.” Raine chews his mouthful. “Sure we can’t tempt you, Rip?”

I stare at them, conflicted.

“This is so good,” he continues with exaggerated enthusiasm. “We’ve been living off crap for so long, I forgot what real food tastes like.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Lennox responds, though he keeps an eye on me.

I’ve inched within touching distance of a carton. I can see herb-studded rice and a vibrant sauce with chunks of meat. My mouth waters. All the fizzing energy that’s distracted me narrows in on that carton.

Nudging a plastic fork closer, Lennox moves it to the edge of the table. I have my hands on the carton and the fork in my mouth before I can draw a breath. Exotic flavours explode on my tongue.

“S’good,” I moan.

Lennox looks down at his food, smiling to himself.

Finishing in record time, I snag a few triangles of bread then move back to the window to munch in peace. Their attention in the past few days has been suffocating. It’s why I wanted to disappear in the first place.

The sound of eating dissolves as I zone back out. The clouds have broken now. Big, fat raindrops hammer down from the sky. It obscures the busy road running alongside the budget hotel.

A woman with auburn hair rushes to safety from the falling rain, holding a soaked magazine over her head. The bright-red waves linger in my mind, taking me back to our final moments inside Harrowdean.

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