Page 3 of Silent Fire

The butterflies in his stomach told him he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

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The streetlights outside created a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the dimly lit tavern. The worn wooden bar pressed against Noel’s elbows as he leaned on it, watching the bubbles in his drink rise and pop. The liquid swirled lazily in the glass, tempting but dangerous. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to hold back on another sip. He needed to keep his wits about him. Although he enjoyed Tomas’s company, it was time to bounce.

When Tomas headed to the restroom, Noel made his move. He slipped off his stool and headed toward the door.

No pausing or getting sidetracked this time. Since all he had were the clothes he was wearing, he didn’t need to grab anything from the room he’d crashed in last night.

A clean and quick getaway.

Once outside, Noel walked briskly down the street. It was going to take him about an hour to get back to the house where he was staying. He’d already been tired, but as he put more distance between himself and Sin’s, he started second-guessing his decision.

The tavern was safe, there was always food, and that bed was the comfiest he’d ever slept in.

Still, good things never lasted, and eventually, they probably would’ve kicked him out. Better not to get attached to comforts like a full stomach or a sense of security.

Tonight was cooler than usual, and Noel felt a slight chill as he walked along. He rubbed his arms, passing by Carver’s Hardware and a flower shop that reminded him of Tomas.

Florito. Why Tomas called him little flower was beyond him. Noel didn’t think of himself as fragile or that small.

But did it really matter? As soon as he got some rest, he planned to grab his backpack and move on. The last thing he needed was getting the cops called for crashing in an empty house.

It had happened a few times in the past six months, but luckily, he’d never been arrested, just told to move along.

He looked around as the town lights faded, giving way to the dark countryside and the smell of woodsmoke. Occasionally, a car would pass, its headlights cutting through the darkness for a moment.

The farmhouse wasn't much, but it had become his temporary refuge. Still, Noel had seen some strange things, like glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Just last week, some guys showed up arguing in the front yard. He peeked out the window, careful to stay hidden. He only used his lantern when really necessary—he had to save the batteries and didn’t want anyone to know he was there. Like he had with Tomas and his friends.

But the strangers had been arguing, and one guy’s eyes had this weird amber glow. Noel figured it was just the moonlight messing around, but even when the guy turned his head, the glow was still there.

The other guy had freakishly long front teeth. Noel really should’ve left town then, but he’d stupidly decided to stick around.

As he kept walking, all he could hear were his footsteps on the pavement and sometimes an owl hooting in the distance. By the time he got to the farmhouse, Noel was dead tired and ready to faceplant onto his thin little blanket.

It took everything he had to drag himself up to the second floor, and now he was starving. He’d kill for one of Cesar’s meals right about now. The guy could seriously throw down in the kitchen. Noel had never eaten so good in his life. He wasn’t a huge fan of spaghetti, but the way Cesar made it? Noel was officially hooked.

Stretching out on the worn carpet, he wrapped the blanket tightly around him, shivering slightly from the chilly night air. After sleeping at Sin’s, the musty smell and hard floor felt even worse. He kept shifting around, trying his best to find a comfortable position.

He must’ve nodded off, because, when he opened his eyes, the moonlight shadows had moved to the other side of the room.

Why was he awake? That walk from town alone should’ve knocked him out cold. Noel started to toss aside the blanket to head to the bathroom but froze when he heard a floorboard creak.

Just like it had a few nights ago when Tomas and his friends had broken in.

Noel strained to listen, hoping like hell he was just imagining things. He tried to calm his breathing, even though he was heavily panting.

Carefully, he pushed to his feet. Noel knew which parts of the floor creaked and avoided those spots as he snuck toward the closet.

His muscles locked in place when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Noel pressed his lips together to keep quiet, and to stop himself from screaming.

He did not like anything creepy or murdery, and those footsteps were giving him a bad feeling.

Noel edged toward the closet, fighting the overwhelming urge to sprint and slam the door shut behind him.

Moving this slowly he was barely making any progress, but he didn’t want to tip off whoever was there.

The footsteps were getting closer. Noel moved just a little faster and quietly slipped inside the closet, careful of the squeaky hinges.

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