Games of Fire (40 page)

The police officer asked several more questions, got Aimee’s address from Spencer, talked with Sophie’s mother and then left, taking the other two with her. Sophie turned to Spencer as her mother followed the officers outside.

“Spencer—”

“Shh,” he said again, pulling her into him and kissing her deeply, turning her knees to liquid and her mind to mush. “I’m going to see if they need anything else,” he said when he finally broke away. “You should stay here.”

She grabbed him before he could leave her alone in the house. “What’s out there, Spencer? What’s going on? Is
… is it another bag?”

He shook his head. “Your dad made me promise not to say anything.”

“Seriously?” She pulled away from him. “Spencer!”

“Sophie—”

She marched past him, ignoring his attempt to take her hand. On the porch, talking to the female police officer, her mother looked up, but even she wasn’t fast enough to stop her when she charged down the path leading down to the driveway and the garage. Her father looked up just as she rounded the corner and came to a skidding halt.

“Sophie, get back in the house—”

But it was too late. She’d seen it. It was hard not to. The bright crimson red contrasted horribly with the violent white of the garage door. It trickled down the surface to pool and weave down the driveway. But it was the words, the two horrible words that bolted her feet to the concrete, kept her rooted even when Spencer came up behind her and pulled her into his arms. His hands pressed her face into his shoulder and she let him, too numb to resist.

“Breathe,” he murmured quietly into her temple. “Breathe, Sophie.”

It took her several seconds of irrational debating before she realized she really wasn’t breathing. Air rushed in and out of her lungs in a choked wheeze, followed by another and another until she was hyperventilating. She was only vaguely aware of Spencer shoving her to the ground and forcing her head between her knees.

“Breathe, Sophie!” He was next to her, rubbing her back, his voice urgent.

“Who … who … !” was all she could choke out between broken sobs.

“Sophie!” Her father’s large hands replaced Spencer’s. She was gathered up into his arms and hurried into the house. She was vaguely aware of her mom’s high pitched fussing as she was settled onto the sofa. “Sophie?”

Somewhere in the background, someone asked if an ambulance was needed. Her father said something that quieted the inquiry.

“Sophie?”

“Who?” she croaked, focusing on her father. “Who … ?”

His sad brown eyes met hers. “Easy
, baby. Just relax, okay? The police will find them.”

“What do they want?” She tried to feel shame in the terror coating each word, but it was hard to when she couldn’t even control her breathing.

“I don’t know.” He took her trembling hands and tried to rub feeling back into the cold digits. “But we’ll sort this out. I won’t let anything happen to you or your mother.”

It would have been easier to just blindly believe the impossible beauty he promised with such conviction. But it was false. He couldn’t stop what was happening. No one would. Whoever was doing this wanted something and they weren’t going to stop.

The cushion beside her dipped, sending her teetering into a warm chest. Strong arms banded around her. Sophie gave herself into them, burrowing in deep and pressing her face into the curve between Spencer’s neck and shoulder. His fingers smoothed through her hair, drawing the strands away from her tear streaked cheeks.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured into her temple.

She shook her head. “It’s not.”

Her father’s fingers slipped from hers and she felt rather than saw him pull away. A moment later, his voice filtered through from a short distance. There was concern in his tone, but unwavering determination. Sophie didn’t look up to see who he was talking to or what about.

“Someone out there wants something from me,” she whispered. “And I don’t know why.”

Spencer shook his head. His hand slipped beneath her chin, forcing her face up until she was staring into his murderous expression. “They won’t touch you, even if I have to camp on your doorstep! I won’t let them near you.”

In her pocket, her phone buzzed. Still cuddled in Spencer’s arms, she dug the phone out and checked the text message.

It was from Lauren.
“Hey! Where r u?”

Swiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Sophie typed back.
“Home w/Spencer. Something happened.”

No sooner had she hit send when the phone chirped loudly, signaling an incoming call. She didn’t have to see the caller ID to know who it was.

“Hey.” Her voice broke.

“What’s going on?” Lauren demanded at once. In the background, she heard Jessie murmuring something about speaker phone.

Trying not to go into details or break down, Sophie told her friends everything, including the grotesque message left on her garage door. Lauren began cursing immediately.

“We’ll come over after school,” Jessie said, trying to be soothing, but failing when she sounded like she was going to cry. “We’ll
… Joe! Where are you going?” Her voice began to fade, as if she was running away from the phone.

“Joe’s pissed,” Lauren said. “He took off somewhere. But yeah, Jess and I’ll be there after school. I’ll call my mom and let her know we’re spending the night.”

“No,” Sophie said. “I don’t want you guys here. It’s not safe.”

Lauren snorted. “Girl, whatever! We’re sticking together! Whoever this asshole is, he hasn’t met the team!”

A near wave of tears sprung to her eyes. “Love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah! Now give hotshot the phone then lie down or something. We’ll catch you later.”

Sophie turned to Spencer, offering him the phone. He accepted it without asking why. He kept one arm securely around Sophie, pressing her protectively into his side while he brought the phone to his ear with his free hand.

“Yes?” There was a pause as he listened, occasionally making the appropriate humming sound. Several times he nodded his head as if silently agreeing. “I will,” he said finally, turning gray eyes down to Sophie as if making the promise to her. “I’m not going anywhere.” He hung up and returned her phone.

“What was that?” she asked, tucking the phone away back inside her pocket.

He shook his head, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Eat my veggies. Get a goodnight’s rest. Keep you safe. Stop being gorgeous. The usual.”

Despite herself, she snorted a laugh, elbowing him gently in the side. “That’s not what she said.”

He shrugged, leaning into the sofa, dragging her back with him so she lay across his chest. “Some of that.”

She didn’t press him. She snuggled into him, closing her eyes against the scene around her. In the distance, she could hear her father murmuring with the police officers as her mother did the same from across the room. She blocked the low chatter and focused on the steady patter of Spencer’s heartbeat beneath the soft material of his sweater. She turned her face into the warmth radiating from beneath the material. The steady beat calmed the agitation coursing through her, battering at her senses, and for a moment, she nearly forgot the threat outside her home. For a moment, those two, bloody words were erased from her mind.

Found you!

A violent shudder ripped through her. Spencer’s arms tightened instinctively, shielding her from something that wasn’t physical. It annoyed her how easily she’d fallen apart, and despite the piling evidence that this was not some random attack, she couldn’t help wondering if maybe the person had the wrong house. They seriously could not be looking for her. Why would anyone want to? She didn’t have any enemies. This wasn’t one of her books. She was just a normal teenage girl trying to live a normal life. But a part of her wished she was one of the heroines in her stories. Then she’d be strong and capable. She’d know what to do. She wouldn’t feel so powerless and scared.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For getting you and your family involved in whatever this is.”

He pushed her hair behind her ear. “You didn’t do this.”

“Not intentionally, but they want me and
… I dragged you into it.”

“You don’t know that!”

She raised her head to peer down at him. “They wrote it on my garage door!”

He shook his head. “You can’t know it was meant for you.”

Sophie frowned. “Who then?” But she knew even before his gaze snapped to where her parents stood. “My parents? Why would anyone want to hurt them?”

His eyes returned to hers. “Why would anyone want to hurt you?”

It made no sense. Her parents were good people. They were kind and decent and everyone loved them. There was no way anyone would intentionally hurt them. It had to be her. But what had she done?

“It has to be Aimee,” she murmured. “There’s no one else.”

His finger lightly grazed the side of her injured face. “Even if it wasn’t her who painted your garage door, she’ll be charged for assaulting you.” His lips pursed. “I wish you’d told me when it happened.” His eyes narrowed. “Is this why you didn’t come over last night?”

She dropped her gaze. “I didn’t want to cause trouble. I did provoke her.”

He pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger. “She had no right to touch you.”

“It’s not a big deal.” She touched her cheek, tracing the scratches with a fingertip. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“That isn’t the point. You should have told me.”

“What good would it have done? You would have gotten upset and tried to confront her or Jamie and I honestly can’t stand either of them.”

Something in his features softened. “Sophie—”

“Sophie.” Her father appeared before them, face strained. “Why don’t we let Spencer head home? He’s already missed school today and I wouldn’t feel right keeping him any longer.”

“My mom understands,” Spencer argued.

Her father nodded. “Yes, but it’s not safe here.”

Spencer straightened his shoulders, an impressive act considering Sophie was practically in his lap. “With all due respect, sir, I’m not leaving Sophie. If it’s not safe for me then it’s not safe for her.”

Her father mashed the heel of his hand into his brow as if trying to grind a headache out of his skull. “Son—”

“Ben.” Her mother appeared at his elbow. She touched him gently. “I already talked to Jackie. She knows where Spencer is. I told her he could stay.”

“That isn’t a good idea!” he partially hissed through his tightly clenched teeth. “We can’t risk having someone else’s kid here if something—”

Her mother intercepted his logic. “You heard what the police said, he’s good support for Sophie. She needs that right now! Let’s get you an aspirin, okay?”

Sophie expected him to protest, to argue the many downfalls of that idea, but he surprised her by expelling a lungful of air and pinching the bridge of his nose. Without a word, he ambled to the kitchen with her mother a step behind him.

“Maybe my dad’s right.” Sophie turned to Spencer. “Maybe you should go home.”

He tilted his head and observed her carefully. “You want me to go home?”

Her chuckle came out forced, weak. “No! But I don’t want anything happening to you.”

He pulled her back against his chest. “The only way I’m leaving is if you come with me.”

She knew she should argue, but being with him, having his heat and scent surrounding her, she felt safe. She felt less insane. It was incredibly selfish and severely dangerous, but she didn’t think she could have handled things if it weren’t for him.

“Thank you,” she murmured into his chest.

“For what?”

“For always being there when I need you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

As promised, Lauren, Jessie and Joe arrived on her doorstep the moment school ended. Sophie’s mother let them in with a very strained smile before hurriedly shutting and locking the door behind them. She politely asked if they were hungry or thirsty then promptly left before anyone could answer.

“She’s kind of freaking out,” Sophie murmured from her curled up position against Spencer’s side. They hadn’t moved, not once since that morning. Spencer had pulled the afghan off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them, but otherwise, they’d sat there, mindlessly flipping through channels while her mother, father and Jackie talked strategy in the kitchen. Every so often, they could hear her father’s growl about the police not doing enough to keep them safe, but her mother would shush him and the whispering would continue.

Sophie couldn’t blame the police. They
couldn’t very well have a patrol car parked outside the house forever. Plus, she liked to think they were doing all they could to catch the person or people involved in this nightmare, to which Spencer wholeheartedly disagreed.

“It’s been over a month and they haven’t done anything,” he kept muttering.

She couldn’t argue that, so she didn’t.