Page 25 of Run to Ground
The entire group jumped as if he’d given them an electric shock, all of them turning to stare at him with expressions that ranged from fear to wariness. Upon closer observation, he confirmed that they were kids, ranging in age from ten or so to late teens—the oldest being none other than his squirrelly waitress. Her hair was caught in two braids, and a smear of black ran across her right cheek. Even smudgy, she was hot.
Not liking the prickle of emotion she woke in him, he looked at the stove.
“Is the fire out?” he asked when it appeared that no one was going to answer his initial question. When they still didn’t say anything—instead staring at him, stock-still and wordless—Theo shifted his weight impatiently and reached toward his radio with the hand not holding his gun. “Do I need to call in the fire department?”
“No!” several of the kids, including Jules, chorused in unison. He kept hold of his radio, since the threat of Fire seemed to have brought everyone back to life. Theo could sympathize with their reluctance. Sometimes—a lot of times—firefighters could be a pain in the ass.
“It’s out,” Jules said, taking a step toward him and positioning her body between Theo and the kids. Her slight figure wasn’t much of a barrier, but there was something in the way she held herself that reminded him of a fierce mama bear. “There wasn’t really a fire. It was more…” She waved a hand toward the stove, as if what had happened was written on its ancient surface.
“It was more of an explosion,” one of the younger boys offered, but his brother—a twin, Theo assumed by their almost identical size and appearance—cleared his throat.
“It wasn’t actually an explosion,” the second one explained earnestly. “The debris just ignited extremely quickly, mimicking an explosion. A small one.”
Theo wasn’t any more enlightened than when he’d first seen the smoke. “Debris?”
Jules cringed. “An old pack rat nest.” A visible shudder rippled through her.
“The rat wasn’t hurt,” the youngest of the group, a girl who looked like a younger Jules, said solemnly. “He left a long time ago. We’re hoping he doesn’t come back, because it would be very upsetting if he did and found out his home had burned.”
“Didn’t you check inside the oven before you turned it on?” Theo asked, stepping closer to the stove so he could look inside. Unfortunately, that move brought him very close to Jules. Under a layer of smoke, she smelled really nice, like vanilla and sugar and baking things.
Her mouth-watering scent was overlaid by the stench of charred rodent, which refocused him. What was wrong with him, that he was sniffing squirrelly waitresses? He reached for the numbness, but for the first time, it eluded him, and he was stuck with feeling the irritated fascination Jules inspired in him.
“No.” She glared up at him, her gaze hotter than he thought blue eyes could be. “I normally donotlook inside an oven before I turn it on, because who would ever think a hugeratwould build a house inside an appliance? An appliance in which we cook food. Food that we eat!” Her voice had risen to a decibel that made Theo’s ears hurt, but he found himself fighting the beginnings of a smile. Jules was just so outraged that a rat dared take up residence in her stove. Judging by the condition of the house—especially the rough state of the kitchen—Theo was not even a little surprised that a rodent had made its home there. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if one ran across the floor in front of them. Theo almost hoped one would, so he could play hero, and Jules could thank him in that sweet, Southern accent of hers.
Startled by the daydream, he shook it off and tried to distract himself by belatedly trying to place her dialect. She’d mentioned Arkansas, but her drawl didn’t match.
“Where are you from again?” he asked. It was only then he realized his question would’ve seemed random and abrupt. Her surprise morphed into that same hunted look she’d had at the diner, and he swallowed his disappointment at the reminder that shewashiding from something—hiding, and apparently, dragging her family along with her.
“Arkansas,” all of them chorused—all except the hulking, oldest boy, who protectively stepped closer to Jules, watching Theo warily. Theo narrowed his eyes. Their quick, in-unison answer just screamed that it was a lie. Something was not right about the Jackson family, and Theo felt an itch to investigate—an itch that had been dormant until he met her. He pushed back the urge, biting off questions he wanted to ask. Jules had stood up for him, and he’d decided to back off and trust that Jules had a good reason—a good,ethicalreason—for running. It was hard to let it go, not only because of his raging curiosity, but also because he wanted to know more about Jules.
He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. If he opened himself up again, he was stepping down the road to heartache. Feeling nothing was easier, less painful. In fact, it was probably smart to leave this jumpy, lying little family. Now.
Before he could escape, the little girl’s eyes lit up. “A dog!”
As Theo started to turn, Viggy shot past him, heading straight for the huddled family. The small girl stepped forward, hands outstretched.
“Stop!” Theo barked, not sure if he was talking to the dog or to the kid. In the scant seconds it took for Viggy to reach the child, Theo’s stomach twisted. With Viggy acting as unpredictably as he’d been, Theo had no idea how the dog would react. He just knew it wasn’t going to be good. “Viggy, here!”
The dog didn’t even glance at Theo. His focus was locked on the girl, and he shot toward her, as straight as an arrow to a bull’s-eye. Visions of vulnerable flesh bitten and bleeding flashed in Theo’s mind, and he lunged after Viggy. His fingers brushed the harness strap across Viggy’s back, but the dog scooted out of reach, twisting around the little girl’s legs, stretching up to…lick her face? Giggling, the child crouched down to the dog’s level, using both hands to scratch his ruff.
It took a stunned moment for the dog’s action to sink in to Theo’s brain, for the lack of screams to register, and the roar of blood in his ears to ease. The other kids, unaware of Theo’s earlier terror, circled around the girl and dog, reaching to pet Viggy, who rolled onto his back to get his belly scratched.
Theo took a few breaths, still feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. It had been a while since he’d felt anything, and his current state of alertness felt uncomfortable but also kind of, well,good. He closed his eyes for just a second, enjoying the flow of blood and the hard beat of his heart. It felt like his body was finally thawing after being frozen for a long time.
“What’s his name?” Reluctant warmth filled Jules’s voice. Theo’s heart rate increased a little more, and he frowned, his eyes snapping open.
Quit lusting after the squirrelly waitress, he told himself firmly. His body didn’t listen. “Viggy.”
“He’s your dog?” the little girl asked, smiling up at him from her place on the floor next to Viggy. “I’d like a horse, but a dog would be good, too. We can’t get one yet, though. Jules says we need to focus on keeping all of us alive before we add any dependents.”
An audible inhale from Jules caught Theo’s attention, and he looked at her sharply. What about the girl’s statement had upset Jules? Was it the implication that they didn’t have much money, or had Jules meant “survival” in its most immediate form? Were their lives in danger? He examined her face closely, but Jules flushed and dropped her gaze to the dog.
“Is he?” The little girl urged, and Theo’s focus shifted to her again.
“He’s my…” He paused just a second. “He was my friend’s partner.”
The oldest boy looked up from his position crouched by Viggy’s head. He’d been scratching the dog’s upside-down ears, and his hand paused as he spoke for the first time. “H-he’s a p-p-police dog?”
