Page 10 of Wings of Lies
I glared at the back of his head, regretting that he couldn’t see it. The bouncing up and down, completely at his mercy, also didn’t help. But that didn’t stop my snappy reply. “So are you.” My body currently looked twelve years old because starvation and the inability to move for weeks, months, or years on end would do that. But I wasn’t about to enlighten him on those facts.
By his silence, I suspected my words hit a nerve. He may be tall, but he lacked definition. Whatever muscle he had was just enough to carry my starved body.
“Oliver,” he said, tone sobered.
I jolted, staring with wide eyes at the back of his head.
Oliver? Like the person I needed to find? Was this some trick?
“Lucille,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
The harsh air pushing out of his lungs filled the quiet. Glancing back, I strained my ears for any other noise, hearing nothing but Oliver. “I think we lost them.”
He laughed. “Ilost them. You’re lucky you weigh like twenty pounds, or else the ending of this story would’ve been more tragic.”
Slowing to a jog, then a walk, the trees dispersed, opening to the twinkling lights of a town across a grassy field. My throat closed at the sight.
Oliver eased me to the ground and plopped himself next to me. We both took this moment to rest, staring at the lights ahead. My chest and sternum thanked me for it. Although no longer forced against his body heat, the damp grass pulled goosebumps from the backs of my thighs.
I glared at them. Would they even be able to carry me to the lights, or would Oliver have to help again? I shifted my attention to him.
With the strength of the full moon, a black streak in his bangs stood out against the mop of blonde hair. They flowed into his light eyelashes that bordered emerald eyes. The color matched the sweater that swallowed his slim build. As long as the sweater was, it still barely skimmed the top of his jeans. It couldn’t quite fit his height, which made sense as he towered over me while I sat beside him.
“You know, staring at strangers is slightly rude. Is there a reason you’re looking at my body?”
My eyes shot to his, cheeks warming. “You’re tall.”
He scanned me up and down. “I’m tall? You practically analyzed every inch of me, and that’s all you say? I’m tall? No compliments, no questions, just a two-word statement?”
I nodded, frowning at his blubbering.
“Have you looked at you? Are you sure you’re not just short?”
I raised my eyebrows. My brain might’ve been working slower than usual and lost most of its memory, but that didn’t make me stupid.
He smirked. “I’m 6’6”. So yeah, I’d say I’m tall. But you’re still short. And I’m still not positive you’re not twelve.”
I sighed and followed his gaze to my bony legs. Brown and blue covered almost every inch of my limbs. Somewhere in the grime, blood and urine hid, like they hid in my black shorts. I didn’t let myself think about how I smelled. My hair—I reached an arm up to finger the frizzy dark ends. I plucked a leaf out of the waves, knowing there was most likely more.
A breeze carried the leaf, tumbling across the grass. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, curling into a tiny ball—a twelve-year-old child indeed.
“Here.” A swath of green fabric landed across my knees.
I turned my head toward Oliver. “I?—”
He cut off my objections. “I think your goosebumps have goosebumps. Not to mention, you look like a starved, abused animal. At least with the sweater, you’ll only scare half the people in town.” The side of his lips quirked in a crooked smile. “Plus, I have this”—heplucked at his white, long sleeve—“muscle on my bones and a cheery personality to keep me warm.”
Right. And boatloads of energy.
Conceding, I shoved the sweater over my head, smelling spring rain. Heavenly heat soothed my spiky skin. Extra fabric bunched at my hips and wrists. Once I stood, it’d cover me mid-thigh, making me look more childlike. But if it could conceal the dirt and bruises, plus keep me comfortable, I didn’t care.
“So, does this mean you’re following me to town?” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager.
A mischievous glint lit his face. “I don’t know. Maybe. I guess that depends on whether you can stand.”
I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or stab him in the eye.
He chuckled at my glare and pushed off the ground. “But really, can you? We might’ve got a head start, but I don’t want to test how long it takes them to find us. Which they won’t. If we move.”
