Page 35 of Hunted by the Fallen
Before I can ask, Joseph clears his throat. “I’m actually about to leave. I’ll return this evening.” He speaks more to Adrian thanme.
“What?” Unease claws at my throat. I haven’t been alone with Adrian since the night I snuck out of the house to rescue my parents. The Dark Fallen hasn’t hidden his contempt for my actions, but he’s limited it to impatient comments and displeased frowns. I attribute the reprieve to the presence of the other Fallen. The others would intervene if he ever tried to unleash the full extent of his anger on me. But Joseph is talking about leaving me alone with him. What is hethinking?
“Gabe reached out.” Joseph directs his gaze to Adrian. “He has a lead on his task, but he is requesting my assistance. Will you be alright watching over Veronica on yourown?”
A silent conversation passes between them, reminiscent of the type I normally only see between the brothers. I detect anxiety, understanding and reassurance. Though, I’m not sure who is experiencingwhat.
“I think I can manage,” Adrian says with characteristicarrogance.
Joseph jerks his head in acknowledgement, not at all put off by Adrian’s tone, and walks farther into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and withdraws a pack of turkey meat and a container of sliced cheese. “Would you like a turkey sandwich? I’m making myself one before Ileave.”
Hearing my ex-teacher offer to make me food is definitely weird. Of all the Fallen, he’s been the most reserved, but for some reason this moment seems noteworthy…personal.
Maybe it’s because of the feelings I sense rolling off of him—a mix of expectation and hesitation. I’m not sure what to think aboutthem.
“Sure,” I force the word out when Joseph looks at me expectantly, a loaf of bread in his hands. “That’d begreat.”
Joseph opens the bread. I sit in the chair across from Adrian, avoiding his stare. I watch my ex-teacher move around my kitchen with ease and purpose. He starts to assemble the sandwiches, humming an unfamiliar tune as he does. He is bent over the counter, spreading mayonnaise on the bread. My eyes trail over the expanse of his back. His muscles shift beneath his formfitting shirt. I look at his exposed forearms, and my mouth goes dry. I know Joseph is in shape—all of the Fallen are—but I never took the time to admirehowin shape he is. I’d always been too timid—too respectful of the fact he was an authority figure in my life. Sure, I fawned over his looks and intellect in the privacy of my mind. But those reservations seem to have flown out thewindow.
Joseph slides the sandwich on a plate and hands it tome.
“Thanks.” I make sure to avoid accidentally touching hisfingers.
His smile is bright. “You’re welcome.” Adrian moves his feet to the ground, and Joseph takes theseat.
I keep my eyes on the table as I eat. This is awkward. The Fallen know something is up. It’s obvious in the way they watch me. None have pressed me on my lack of desire to train, and none has pressed the issue. Not even Adrian who is known to be pushy. They are planning something. They have to be. Not even in my ideal scenario had I imagined such easy acceptance fromthem.
Loud banging shakes the front door. Chairs screech against tile as Adrian and Joseph stand and face the door with determination. I almost choke from the sudden movements, but I manage to dry swallow the piece ofbread.
Joseph places a staying hand on my shoulder when I prepare to stand. He shakes his head once, and his eyes brook no argument. I settle for rotating my body so my back isn’t to thedoor.
The banging continues. Then, I hear, “Ronnie, I swear. You better open thisdoor.”
I recognize Annie. I exhale, then hop up from my chair. Joseph doesn’t try to stop me. Neither does Adrian. They must recognize my best friend,too.
Flipping the bolt, I open the front door. Annie stands on the welcome mat, really close to the door. I take a step back to allow more space between us, but she onlyfollows.
Annie shuts the door. “Good to see you’realive,” she growls. “Where the heck have youbeen?”
I hold up my hands, not completely sure where her anger is coming from. “What are you talking about? You’ve seen me at work.” She and I almost always work the same shifts at her family’srestaurant.
“You don’t respond to my texts,” sheaccuses.
“Yes, I do.” I would never not respond to my best friend’s messages. Mostly because I would expect her to freak out. Just like she isnow.
“One word texts are NOT responses,” Annie is close toshouting.
I cringe and glance into the kitchen. The Fallen are no longer there. A small reprieve. I don’t want them to have any more reason to suspect something is going on with me. Other than the usual “I’m a full-blooded Fallen with rival parents”thing.
My arms fall to my side. I’m not sure what to say to Annie. I know I’ve been distant the past few days. With avoiding the Fallen like the plague and my secret rendezvous with Lukas and his injured friends, I’ve tried to keep a low profile. But we’ve spent time together. It’s not like I completely disappeared. I knew Annie would never let something like thatgo.
I guess I didn’t do a good job of actingnormal.
Before I can speak, Annie continues, this time with watery eyes, “You’ve barely even told me about your date with Preston. I thought we were best friends. Why are you pushing meaway?”
Is that why Annie is so upset? I haven’t meant to push her away, but I realize that’s how it must seem. We’ve been friends since kindergarten. Inseparable. But now, for the first time I can ever remember, I am keeping secrets from her. Annie is smart. She senses the fact I’m holding out on her. I consider how my distance must feel to her, and it makes me feel awful. I don’t want to cause a rift with my best friend. My life is crazy. And Annie has always been there for me. I need to tell her thetruth.
Still standing in the entryway, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them, I see Annie staring at me with a mix of uncertainty anddetermination.
