Games of Fire (5 page)

Not without throwing up.
Already her insides were tossing like an angry storm, threatening to come up all over her savior. Her back and neck ached, but she willed her eyes to open. The world twisted, looping like a kaleidoscope on crack. She groaned, squeezing her eyes closed before she followed through and hurled.

“Is she all right?” another voice shouted over the rain and noise. “She came out of nowhere! I tried to stop!”

“I’m calling an ambulance!” said another voice, female this time.

“Lucky you were there,” the first vo
ice was babbling. “My tires skidded!”

“
Nine-one-one? Yes, I want to report an accident.”

Oh crap,
Sophie thought, willing herself not to succumb to the beckoning darkness.

“I’m okay!” she groaned, struggling to push off the weight still holding her down.

“No, you’re not!” a familiar voice said. “Stop moving.”

More forcefully, she shoved at the owner of the weight. “I’m fine!” To prove it, she peeled her eyelids open and squinted at the dark figure looming over her. “I was just winded.”

Spencer hovered above her, his face ashen, his eyes very wide and dark with concern. Tendrils of hair clung to his brow. Rain traced the plains of his beautiful face. Clearly she was fine if she noticed all that, right? “You hit your head!”

“I have a hard head,” she garbled, pushing to sit up.

He snorted, but wisely kept his mouth shut when she shot him a warning glower.

“You should stay down,” a woman said, still clutching her
cell phone to her ear. “The ambulance is on its way.”

“No!” Sophie scrambled up, nearly crashing her forehead into Spencer’s face. He jerked back just in time to avoid a broken nose. “I’m fine! I’m okay!”

A crowd had formed around them now. Some of them, she noted, were kids from the school, probably drawn by all the commotion. The rest were people from the surrounding houses coming out to see what was happening. She groaned, wanting to die when she spotted several cell phones aimed in her direction, cameras rolling, probably streaming her mortification live.

“I’m fine! Really. I promise. Please don’t call
—”

“Sophia?” Then, because her day just couldn’t possibly get any worse, her mother pushed through the throng of people and
clattered towards her in three inch pumps. “Oh my Lord, Sophia!”

“Who
… how—” Spencer was shoved aside and Sophie was engulfed before she could fully accept the horror unfolding before her.

“My poor baby!” her mother wailed
… loudly.

“Mom!” Both patting comfortingly and pushing her mother away, Sophie tried to untangle herself from the suffocating headlock.

“What happened?” Her mother finally drew back just enough to grab either side of Sophie’s face. “I heard the noise from the house. I came out to see …” She sniffled. “What happened?”

“I’m fine!” Sophie pleaded even though that wasn’t the answer to her mother’s question. “I swear! Can we please just
…?”

A loud
whoot-whoot
silenced the crowd. People parted and an ambulance rolled into the clearing, a white shark advancing on a wounded seal. Sophie had never wanted so much to just melt into vapors. She should have just given in to that darkness whilst she’d had the chance. Then she would at least be unconscious for this.

“Mom
… Mom, please, please don’t let them take me. I’m fine!”

But her mother was already on her feet, waving the paramedics over. “Over here! Over here!” she kept saying between choked sobs.

Seeing no help there, Sophie turned pleading eyes to the only other person who may be able to end her humiliation. She caught Spencer’s gaze, begging him silently not to let them take her.

The paramedics were on her, telling her to lie down and not move.
Lights were flashed in her eyes. Fingers were thrust into her face and moved from side to side. She was pulled and prodded and lifted onto a stretcher. One asked what happened.

And without ever missing a beat, Spencer answered ever so helpfully,
“She hit her head.”

Traitor! Evil,
skeezy traitor!

Over the medic’s shoulder, Spencer met her eyes again and smirked.

Gorgeous or not, he was so freaking dead! She swore vehemently.

She was strapped to the gurney and rolled into the ambulance. Her mother went with her, weeping softly while clutching Sophie’
s hand. No amount of assurance that everything was fine seemed to help ease the terror in her mother’s eyes. But she pulled it together a little better by the time they reached the hospital. Sophie was taken into a room and told the doctor would be right with her.

“Mom, seriously, I am fine!” she said for the millionth time.

“But you might not have been if Spencer hadn’t been there!” her mother scolded, as if nearly being hit by a car had been Sophie’s idea. “He saved your life!”

Not really,
she thought. If he hadn’t shown up, she would never have been so distracted. She would have remembered to look both ways. She wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to grab her umbrella and run. So technically, it was his fault. Just like her being admitted into the hospital was his fault and her humiliation was his fault. He was to blame for everything short of Hurricane Katrina. Hell, with some time she was sure she could find links to his involvement in that disaster as well. The guy had a unique talent for infuriating her and she was sure he knew it!

She didn’t share her theory with her mother
, or the nurse who came in to check on her, or the doctor who finally came to see her six hours later. She told them what happened, got poked, scanned, x-rayed, prodded, medicated and sent home to rest.

“She has a nasty bump on the back of
the head, but no concussion and no broken skin, so she’ll be fine,” the doctor said. “Just keep an eye on her and if anything changes, bring her back.” Then, to Sophie, he said, “Check before you cross the street next time.”

No. Kidding.

At home, her mother stuffed her into a pair of fluffy bunny pajamas and bundled her up on the sofa, ignoring Sophie’s protests that she was seventeen, not five and that she didn’t want a nap in fuzzy bunny pajamas!

“
You heard the doctor!” her mother said sternly. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine!” Sophie wailed.

Her mother handed her the remote, patted her lightly on the shoulder and left to start on supper. No sooner had her mother walked into the kitchen than the doorbell sounded.

“I’ll get it!” She was tossing back the blanket and running for the door before she could be stopped.

“No, you won’t!” Her mother stalked determinedly out of the kitchen, dishrag in hand and walked straight to the door. “Lie down!”

Grumbling, Sophie turned back to the sofa just as her mother swung the door open.

“Jackie!” Sophie stiffened. She whipped around just in time to see her mother embrace the other woman like they were best friends. She expelled a sigh of relief to find only Jackie and the little demon child at the door. “It’s so nice of you to come by.”

Jackie smiled timidly. “Of course. I’ve been so worried since I heard the news.” She turned
big eyes on Sophie. “How are you?”

Sophie relaxed, forced herself to smile. “Fine.”

“Thanks to Spencer,” her mother added, taking Jackie’s arm and guiding her deeper into the living room. “If he hadn’t been there …”

Jackie patted her mother’s arm. “Don’t think like that. It worked out.”

Smiling at her appreciatively, her mother reached to close the door just as another figure lurched up the porch and stepped into the doorway.

No. F-ing. Way!

“Spencer!” Her mother beamed as though the Pope himself had materialized on her doorstep. “I’m so glad to see you! Come inside!” Her mother all but dragged Spencer inside and slammed the door behind him, barricading him in. She held on to his arm as though it were a lifeline, or maybe she, too, spotted the spooked look in Spencer’s eyes—the one wild animals got just before they gnawed their own legs off to escape. “I never got to thank you for what you did today.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. “No problem.”

Her mother looked about ready to hug him. He must have noticed, too, because he looked momentarily panicked. Sophie almost laughed. She folded her arms and watched with amusement as her mother did just that. She pulled him into a tight embrace, including the back rub and a kiss on the cheek. Spencer reminded Sophie of a rabbit caught in a trap. She wasn’t quick enough to suppress her snicker this time. Gray eyes rose over her mother’s head and pinned her. They narrowed and she only smiled wider.

P
riceless!

Finally, her mother pulled away only to frame his face in her hands and smile fondly. She patted his cheek lightly and stepped back. “I was just about to make supper.
You’ll all stay, of course.”

“No—” Sophie
said about the same time as Spencer shouted, “We can’t—”

The adults weren’t listening.

Jackie beamed. “Only if I can help!”

The only thing missing as
her mother and Jackie disappeared into the kitchen was  bright sunlight and rainbows and the two of them skipping through a meadow of daisies, arm in arm. The whole bonding thing didn’t surprise Sophie. Her parents had a baffling way of making friends with just about anyone. They were one of those genuinely caring couples who did everything for their community, but it was different with Jackie. Her mother really cared about the other woman, which would have been awesome if Sophie wasn’t stuck alone in a room with a guy who hated her, and his demonic sister.

She had an unnatural urge to cross herself
and throw holy water.

Several minutes of awkward silence draped over them. No one spoke. Sophie stared at the blank TV
while Spencer studied his feet, finding his boots abnormally fascinating. The girl kept darting glances between them as though they were an enthralling game of badminton, but she couldn’t figure out the rules.

That’s how her mother found them when she walked back into the room
ten minutes later carrying a tray of nacho chips and melted cheese. Sophie’s favorite. She glanced at Spencer, then at Sophie, then Suzy and frowned.

“You should be lying down, Sophie.” She set the tray on the coffee table and straightened. “Suzy. Spencer, please sit.” She left with another stern gesture towards the sofa and a warning glare for Sophie to be hospitable.

Suzy didn’t seem to need much more prompting than that. She lunged at the platter and went right on ahead scooping a chip into the gooey cheese. She sat on the end of the sofa, short legs kicking as she went back to watching Sophie and Spencer.

Sophie caved first. She stomped over to the sofa and flopped down. She reached for a chip, her stomach reminding her she hadn’t had anything to eat all day.

“You might as well sit,” she muttered. “It’ll be worse if she comes back and you’re still over there.”

She didn’t miss the way his eyes darted from the sofa to the door. He shifted his weight
towards the latter, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to recognize his dilemma.

“It’s not easy being a hero, eh?” she said, popping another cheesy chip into her mouth. “Bet you’re regretting your decision to save me now.”

He said nothing. She told herself at least he hadn’t admitted it, but then, he hadn’t denied it either. His silence irked her. It wasn’t as though he cared about the things that came out of his mouth. Suddenly now he was shy? Then, she realized she liked him better this way. Silence really was golden in his case.

He was watching her
smirking freakishly to herself when she dared a peek in his direction. Her chip-baring arm jerked in surprise. A gooey glob of cheese dripped onto her knee, smothering a purple bunny. He smirked when she cursed and threw down the chip, switching it for a napkin. She scrubbed at the mess. The cheese smeared over the frolicking bunny and Sophie stiffened. She’d forgotten all about her fuzzy pajamas.

“Nice jammies,” Spencer said
translating her horrified expression with great ease. “Suzy had a pair like that when she was five.”

There was no point grabbing for the blanket bunched up beneath her. He’d seen her in all her bunny wearing glory. Reacting now would only amuse him
further.

She raised her chin, met his gaze levelly and replied, “My grandmother gave me these
for Christmas. They’re very comfortable.” It had sounded much less pathetic in her head, but she stuck to her guns and dared him to make something of it.

He raised his hands, palms up. “Easy, Blondie.
No one pulls off bunny pajamas quite like you. Happy?”

It was a compliment wrapped in
a sharp insult. She eyed the cheese bowl and judged her ability to pitch it into his face without missing. The odds were not in her favor. With the medication the hospital had given her, she probably couldn’t even locate her nose with one finger without poking an eye out.