Playing With Fire (9 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

BOOK: Playing With Fire
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“I, well…” I reached into my pocket and withdrew several precious bills, already mourning their loss. “Here’s fifty dollars. It’s my pleasure to treat you to a hooker.”

Twin circles of color bloomed on his cheeks. He hastily pulled up his jeans and began resnapping them. “I knew you were lying when you said you wanted to have sex with me. I knew it.”

I didn’t try to deny it. “I’m sorry.” With my eyes, I pleaded with him to understand. “I was desperate.”

He bent down and retrieved his T-shirt. He jerked the material over his head. “I knew you were lying, but I thought just this once I’d take a chance. Stupid me, huh?”

He sounded sad and angry at the same time, and the combination was like a punch in the gut. “How old are you?” I asked.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Nineteen. Why?”

“I just wondered.” He wasn’t much younger than me, yet in this moment he seemed infinitely so. “If you get the hooker, make sure to wear a condom. Maybe two of them.”

“I’m not getting a hooker. Just keep your goddamn money. You’ll probably need it.” His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and simply stared over at me. “So you want me to go or what?”

“You want to stay?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go,” he said, his tone bitter. His jaw clenched.

I flopped on the edge of the bed with a sigh. The kid had been so nice to me, and his expression was so forlorn. My guilt intensified, threading a thick web inside me. “Tanner,” I began.

“Stop. Just stop. You’re about to go all girlie on me and explain that I can’t stay because I’d see it as an opportunity to try and sleep with you.”

“Yes. We’re strangers and I—” How did you politely tell someone you weren’t attracted to him? Sure, men had told me that all the time. Albeit silently. The way they looked right through me said plenty. But it hurt nonetheless, and I didn’t want to hurt this boy. “What do you mean, you have no place to go?”

“Forget I said anything, okay?” He turned away from me, but didn’t move toward the door. He remained in place, his shoulders hunched. A long while passed in silence, before he softly said, “When you got into my car, you were the first girl to pay attention to me in a long, long time, and I liked it. I don’t want it to end.”

“What?” I jolted upright, my back straighter than a board. “I thought you were Crazy Bones, the sexual boy wonder.”

“I made it up.” He faced me again, his jaw tight, his expression defiant. “I wanted to impress you.”

Rather than hearing this, I think I would have preferred being kicked in the stomach and having all my money stolen. With a sigh, I patted the space beside me on the bed. “Have you ever had a girlfriend, Tanner?”

His jaw tightened further. He shook his head.

“Maybe…maybe I could give you some pointers or something.”

Another blanket of silence fell between us. “Really?” he finally said, his voice dripping with innocent need.

I nodded. Sherridan—a gal who apparently had an affinity for leather pants and riding crops—had once projected this kind of neediness, and still did at times, desperate for someone to love her, to show her attention. I vividly remember the way her parents had ignored her, indifferent to her wild, notice-me antics. She’d calmed down considerably over the years, but the void had never left her.

I wouldn’t doubt if Tanner had experienced that kind of childhood, and my heart ached for him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Okay.” His expression brightened slightly, and he walked toward me. The bed squeaked as he eased onto the mattress.

“What do you think is the problem? You’re a cute kid—uh, guy. Man. You’re a cute man.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I see a girl I like, I approach her and lay my smack down, and she gets all pissy and leaves.”

This was worse than I’d thought. “What do you mean by laying your smack down?”

“I mean, I show a woman my best moves and give her my best lines.”

“Give me an example of your best line.”

He spoke without hesitation. “Hey, baby. You want to take a ride on the Tanner Express?” He did a chin tilt, gave a wicked grin and held out his arms.

Dear God. I tented my hands over my mouth and blinked at him. “You honestly say that?”

“Well, yeah.” He lost his smile, and his arms fell to his sides. “It lets the ladies know I’ll provide a nonstop pleasure train.”

“Uh, no, it doesn’t. It lets the ladies know you’re a moron and you don’t respect them, will only be using them, and you couldn’t care less if they have a brain as long as they have breasts and thighs.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “What should I say?”

“For one, I’d mention nothing about taking a ride on any kind of express.” I should not have offered to help him. Even an artist needed something to work with. “You need to compliment women. Tell them how pretty they are. And don’t mention that you really love how their nipples poke through their shirt or anything like that.”

“I’ve tried compliments, and that doesn’t work.” He tumbled onto the bed with a sigh. “It’s hopeless.
I’m
hopeless.”

I nearly nodded in agreement, but stopped myself in time. “We just need to work on your game a little, that’s all. I’m kind of on the run, as you probably guessed, or I’d take you out and show you the ropes.”

He turned toward me, his face flickering with genuine concern. “Why are you running?”

“I can’t say.” I wished I could tell him, though. How nice it would be to confide in someone. “The less you know, the safer you are.”

“Are
you
safe?”

“Of course,” I lied, with a wave of my hand.

Doubt darkened his expression, but he didn’t press me. “Do you want to help me, like, after you’re done running?”

“Absolutely.” And I did, I realized. He was endearing.

“Promise? You owe me, remember?”

“I promise.”

He bounded up and strode to the nightstand, finding a pen and tiny notebook in the drawer. “Here’s my number. Call me when you’re safe.” He paused, looked over at me and frowned. “Actually, call me if you need another ride. I don’t like leaving you alone.”

“I will,” I said, but I knew I wouldn’t no matter how desperately I needed him. I’d put him in enough danger already.

“Do me another favor. Promise me you’ll be careful and won’t talk to strangers or hang out in dark alleys.”

“Okay, now you
are
acting like my mom.”

“I’m serious. What if I’ve put your life in danger?”

“I need a little danger in my life. Think how much it will impress the ladies.”

I anchored one hand on my waist and wagged a finger at him with the other. “It won’t impress them if you’re dead.”

“I can’t die,” he said, his eyes lowering and lingering on my chest. “I’m invincible.”

Spoken like a true teenager. “Get out of here, Tanner, and don’t tell anyone you met me.”

“I won’t.” He gave me one of those slow, wicked grins of his. Lord, in a few years the ladies really would not be able to resist him. No matter what he said to them. “I know you told me not to tell potential girlfriends this, but you really do have pretty nipples poking through your shirt.”

I slapped his arm, but I was grinning, too. “The girls and I thank you.” I got to my feet, clasped his shoulders in my hands and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I think you’re a fantastic guy.”

He reached around me and pinched my butt. “Don’t forget to call if you need me. I’ll see ya around, Viper. Stay safe.”

 

A
LL ALONE
, I locked the door and jumped in the shower, luxuriating in the hot water as it washed away ash, soot and the image of the beast monster I’d been. I washed my clothes, too, and hung them up to dry on the shower rod. Since I had torched my spare clothing, I had to wrap the bedsheet around me toga-style.

Exhaustion settled deep in my bones, and I plopped onto the bed. For half an hour I debated whether or not to call my dad. Would I put him in danger by calling him? What if someone had gone in and tapped his phone, hoping to get my location?

Before today, the most exciting incident in my life had been the bathroom funeral I’d held for Martin, my bastard of a betta fish. Oh, to time-travel back to the good old days. A sigh slipped from me as I stared at the phone. My dad would expect to hear from me sometime soon. If he didn’t, he’d worry, and worry wasn’t good for his heart.

That convinced me. Decision made. I’d do it. I’d call. Better to potentially give away my location than to cause my dad stress. If he had a heart attack because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

Fighting a yawn, I clutched the phone in one hand and dialed with the other. He answered on the fourth ring, and he sounded out of breath.

“Hey, Daddy. It’s me.” I strove to keep my tone casual. Breezy.

He coughed and a stream of sizzling static cracked over the line. “Baby doll. Hiya, sweetie. I didn’t expect you to call. With your new man and all I thought you’d be busy.”

I ignored the comment about my “new man.” “Are you smoking again?”

“No, no. Uh—”
Cough. Crackle.
“I went for a little jog. That’s why I’m out of breath.”

“Daddy,” I said warningly. “I do not support your silver fox habit just so you can put yourself in an early grave with cigarettes and cigars.”

He sighed. “All right, you caught me. But I had to smoke the cigar, baby. Mary has been giving me the cold shoulder, so I had to find something to do with my hands. You know how twitchy I am.”

“Is she refusing to talk to you now?” Their on-again, off-again romance kept me vastly entertained. Truly, I loved that he had a girlfriend. Or two. After my mom died, he hadn’t dated anyone. He’d been too busy working and raising me, trying to give me a balanced childhood, acting as both mother and father.

With that thought, I suddenly wondered about Rome’s relationship with
his
daughter. I wondered, too, about his relationship with his wife. Or girlfriend. Or whatever the mother of his child was. Did he love her? Did he crave her with every ounce of his being?

“I tried to tell her Janet forced me to kiss her,” my dad said, breaking into my thoughts. “But Mary doesn’t believe me.”

“Janet forced you, huh?” I twirled the cord around my finger and felt my eyelids sink shut, too heavy to hold up. Knowing my dad, he’d probably grabbed Janet by the shoulders and planted a big one on her before she knew what was going on.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Maybe I asked Janet for a kiss. It’s not my fault she looked like she needed one. What kind of man would I be to ignore a woman in need?”

I chuckled. “You are an incurable flirt.”

“Mary tossed her breakfast bowl at me yesterday morning, and I’ve been washing oatmeal out of my hair ever since.”

Such an exaggerator, I thought with a smile. The man had lost his hair years ago. “Other than the oatmeal incident, how are you feeling? How’s your health? Are you taking all your medication? Are you popping Viagra again?”

“Good. Fine. Yes. No. Lord have mercy, my own daughter is questioning me as if I’m a criminal.”

Yawning—it was unstoppable at this point—I released the cord. I couldn’t pry my eyelids apart to watch it bounce and twist free. “Don’t try that wounded routine on me. You know it doesn’t work.”

“You sound tired, girl,” he said. “How are things with my baby?”

“Good,” I lied. Today was the day for lies, it seemed.

“I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little upset with you, young lady. You didn’t tell me you were dating someone.” Exasperation and happiness layered his voice. “Rome seems like a nice guy.”

“We only…dated—” any second I’d be hit with a lightning bolt for that whopper “—for a little while, but he wasn’t right for me. I dumped him.” Hard core. “Listen, Daddy,” I said, quickly changing the subject. God, I was tired. “I’ve decided to take a vacation. You know, get some R and R. So don’t worry about me if you call the apartment and I don’t answer.”

“Like I’d worry.” He snorted.

Oh, he’d worry. He loved me as much as I loved him, and he was always looking out for me. I yawned again, this one longer, deeper. My limbs were beginning to shake, my mind forming more mush than thought. “I’m…going…”

“Get some rest, angel, and call me when you get back from your vacation.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, doll.”

We hung up. I rolled to my side and blindly replaced the receiver in its cradle. My arm flopped on the mattress and I stayed exactly where I was, too exhausted to move anymore. In the span of one day, I’d kissed a (supposed) government agent, developed superpowers, propositioned a teenage virgin and lied to my dad.

“Anything else you want to make me do?” I muttered to the heavens, pulling my knees to my stomach.

Don’t fall asleep yet, Jamison.
I had a lot to sort through, beginning with whom to trust. Not Pretty Boy, the bogus CIA agent who had tried to pump me full of darts. What a bastard. He tortured people. Killed them. I didn’t doubt the truth of that. When Rome spoke of Vincent and his experiments, I could practically hear people screaming.

More than that, I remembered the deadness in Vincent’s eyes.

Should I go to the police?

If I did, would they just hand me over to the government? To Rome? Hell, would they believe me? I almost didn’t believe myself. Para-agencies, for God’s sake. What about Rome? I was out of my league with him. He knew it and I knew it. Still, the question remained: could I trust him?

Rome had promised to help me find Dr. Roberts (and maybe an antidote) and make Vincent leave me alone. All I had to do in return was help him hide his daughter. Sounded like a great trade-off. Too good, actually. I guess what bothered me about the situation was that I was just, well, me. No training for this sort of thing. Unpredictable. I didn’t know how to hide people, so what help could I ultimately give him?

Obviously, there was something he wasn’t telling me. And if he wasn’t telling me about it, it couldn’t bode well for me.

“Shit.” I had no clothes, hardly any money. Maybe I
would
call Tanner in the morning, have him take me shopping, and forget, if only for a little while, all of my troubles. I could give him more date tips and feel normal again.

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