Page 16 of Fanged Embrace
Something sharp and cold twisted in my gut.
Images flashed behind my eyes: sterile white walls. Metal tables. Rubber gloves and the scent of bleach. My own scream echoing back at me from the tiled floors. And then… fire.
Fire, sirens, and a billowing wall of smoke—blinding and suffocating and all-consuming. It scratched down my throat, acrid and choking. It made my eyes sting. My ears rang with the sound of alarms, an unceasing shriek that merged with the frantic pounding of my heart.
And then Arlon showed up, emerging through the haze like some miracle I hadn’t believed in. I remembered the shape of him more than the details of his face. Bulky, gun in hand, the smoky light catching on the badge glinting at his belt.
He had called over his shoulder to someone but I didn’t hear what he said. I was crumpled over at that point, fading fast from smoke inhalation—still holding that small bundle to my chest.
Arlon did it. Arlon got me out.
But he was just seconds too late to save what truly mattered to me.
I blinked, and pressed my fists to my eyes, unwilling to relive the nightmare on a quiet Sunday morning. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Arlon nodded and didn’t push. Silence stretched between us for a long while, then he said, “You eating okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Arlon.”
“I’m serious.”
I gestured to the fridge. “Half a soda and a wilting bag of lettuce. Living the dream.”
He sighed again, spearing a hand through his sandy hair. “I’ll stop by tomorrow with groceries.”
“I didn’t ask you to?—”
“I know.”
I didn’t argue further, there wasn’t any point. He would do it anyway.
And so I sat there, with my hands in my lap, smiling through his polite interrogations and telling him what he wanted to hear. That I was doing better, that the nightmares had ceased, that my apartment might be a mess, but my head was clearer these days. Whatever would get him off my back and out of my door before I unraveled in front of him.
Eventually, when we’d wrung every last drop out of our stilted conversation, Arlon decided it was time to go. I breathed a small sigh of relief and followed him to the front door.
He hesitated there, watching me with the same mix of hope and helplessness that had shadowed him since the day he pried me out of that place. “You’ll call if you need anything?”
I nodded, even though I probably would not. “Yeah.”
Arlon lingered a second longer, eyes scanning the room again like there had to be something he could fix in those last few seconds. He found nothing.
With a resigned nod he slipped out, shutting the door behind him. I waited until I heard his car engine fade before flipping the deadbolt. Twice. Then I jiggled the handle a few times to be absolutely sure.
When at last I turned around, the apartment stretched before me in all its messy, suffocating glory. Takeout containers collapsed on the coffee table, random scraps scattered across the floor, clothes wadded in the corner. My kingdom. I set my jaw, determined to at least make itlooklike I was trying to get my life together.
Grabbing a trash bag from under the sink, I started pitching containers inside without really looking. Old Chinese, stale pizza, something that might have once been Thai food. The smell alone made me want to gag.
But I only got a few boxes deep before my arms startedtrembling, and not from the physical strain.Why bother?The thought snuck in, hollow and insidious. My chest felt tight, like my heart had already decided it was done working for the day.Why even bother?
My body felt suddenly heavy, weighed down by an invisible force. With an exhale that turned into a shaky, defeated sigh, I gave up.
Letting the trash bag drop to the floor, I trudged to the sofa and sank down, pressing my palms against my forehead, digging fingers through my hair. A few heartbeats passed, and I stared at the wall, fighting the old, familiar wave of fatigue.
Then my phone buzzed from somewhere between the couch cushions. Sucking in a breath, I snaked my hand around until I managed to fish it out. Unknown caller. My heart gave a nervous flutter.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
A hesitant pause. Then: “Laurie? Hi. It’s… River.”
