Chasing Shadow (Shadow Puppeteer) by Christina E. Rundle Page B

around to face Rex. His smile was aggravatingly smug.
    “You followed me?”
    “I had to make sure you were safe.”
    I looked away from him, even more embarrassed. I didn’t like when people caught me in such a vulnerable mood.
    “I brought you something.” He winced as he tossed me the bag.
    He wasn’t hurt when I left. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a new scar under his dark shirt. Something happened last night that gave him reason to camp under my tree.
    My catch was sloppy, but I wasn’t trying to earn points. I just wanted to survive. The cushy bag consisted of a brown skirt, white top and a brown corduroy jacket which I left hanging over my guitar.
    “You went into my house? You went through my closet?” I asked.
    “I’m capable of sneaking around too.”
    Something made the pocket stuffy so I opened it up and nearly died. Panties! He went through my drawer and got me clean panties. I really hope he didn’t snoop or he’d have found a picture of the two of us. I didn’t want him to think I idealized our relationship.
    “I have some of your other things in hiding. You can grab them after school,” he said.
    I asked the question that weighed heavily on my mind. “Did you see Miss Sable? Is she okay?”
    “She looked fine through the window. I had to wait for her to go upstairs before I snuck into the house,” he admitted. After a long pause, he added, “Sonya’s got men passing regularly by your house.”
    That gave me some relief. I was worried they had hauled her off and abused her, or worse, killed her.
    “You can change behind a tree. No one is out here with us,” he said. Humor made his eyes golden.
    I glanced up at the tree house, but honestly, I had no energy to climb the rope. “Don’t peep, okay?”
    I’m very self-conscious about my scars. When I’m naked in front of guys, I prefer the dark. My fear of the dark didn’t lift by any measure when I was with someone, but sometimes that person could help me forget it. My craving for touch was more overwhelming than my fear. Sometimes it was so important to be touched, that I didn’t care who did the touching.
    There was a lot I wanted to get off my chest and with Rex silently waiting, it felt like a good time to speak.
    “I saw a man die on my way back from Xyla.”
    “I’m sorry.” He was sincere.
    “It didn’t feel real and now I can’t get it out of my head. I see him when I close my eyes.” I also saw Starr’s doppelganger, which was equally as frightening, but my sorrow was getting the better of me.
    I had every intention of changing quickly, but stopped when I noticed my cuts from last night were healed under the crusted blood. Even the bruising was gone.
    “Hopefully it’s something you’ll never have to get use to,” he said. This time the sorrow was all his. I wanted to ask about his experience with death, but the moment passed when he changed the subject. “Hurry up, I brought you some food.”
    At the promise of food, I changed so quickly that my skirt could be on backwards for all I cared. As promised, he threw me a lunch pail. I unsnapped it and immediately forgave him for going through my bedroom. There were two large blueberry muffins with powder on the bulbous head, a travel size orange juice, grapes, apple and a bag of animal cookies.
    “I love you.” I blurted around a muffin. I wasn’t so deep into my food that I didn’t realize what passed my lips.
    He coughed, looking uncomfortable.
    “Uh— thanks.” I mumbled.
    “You’re welcome.”
    Near starvation can lead to major greed. I was grateful to have both muffins to myself. When the gradual hunger faded; I was ate the second one more slowly.
    “I want to look at your arm,” he said.
    Testing for soreness, I bent and rotated it, and then made a fist before letting the muscle relax. It felt good. I allowed him to unwrap it as I continued to eat.
    His hands were strong and warm, peeling the gauze into a ball so that it wouldn’t touch the