Wildfire

Chapter 31

31. Envy

After Diego hung up, I started to feel... fidgety. Not quite nervous, but kind of like I was going to throw up or something. I left Diesel in the parking lot and went back upstairs to check on Charlie, but when I stepped into our dorm room, she was just sitting on her bed. Her laptop was propped up on her knees and her class notes were spread out in a circle around her. It wasn't exactly the epic breakdown scene I'd been expecting.

"Charlie...?" I asked suspiciously. After the awkward conversation I'd had with the guy downstairs at reception, I'd had a feeling that this would happen, but I hadn't been one hundred percent sure until I walked inside.

"Oh, hey!" She twisted around, a faint smile crossing her face. "How was today?"

"Nauseating," I replied honestly. "Hey, you're not going to Logan's tonight, are you?"

"Yeah, he's picking me up in thirty." She frowned at me. "Why, did you want to do something?"

"No..." I shook my head, shuffling across the room and lowering myself down onto my bed. My bag was still lying where I'd dropped it earlier, along with my cell phone.

Charlie went back to her notes, seemingly unaware of the aura of tension I could feel radiating off my body. A plan was already starting to formulate in my mind, and I kind of hated myself for it. Against my better judgement, a big part of me wanted to know what the hell was going on — wanted to get involved, to figure out who this Adalia person was and why she thought sending me a severed head would be a good idea. Diego had dragged me into this mess with his stupid latching-onto-random-girls syndrome and I was starting to realize that if I wanted to get away from all of the chaos, I had to start dragging myself back out of it, tooth and nail.

And if that meant getting to the bottom of this, then so be it.

A wave of resolve washed over me and I found myself standing again, my fingers tapping the side of my leg impatiently.

"Something up?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah — I gotta go do something," I told her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay..."

I strode out of the room, hurrying back down the stairs. When I made it back out into the parking lot, Diesel was human again and dressed in more appropriate gear — a turtleneck sweater this time, and a pair of jeans. As I approached, I could see the tear tracks on her face and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. The box was gone from the hood of the truck.

"This doesn't concern you," she growled as I moved closer, eyes flashing gold. Her body practically vibrated with the strength of her animosity and for a moment I was taken aback.

"The address on the box says otherwise," I pointed out. I paused in front of the truck, leaning my hips back against the hood. The churning in my stomach had worsened with every step and I was teetering on the verge of full body shakes from fear and anxiety, but somehow I found the resolve to remain rooted to the ground. I had to do this. I had to face him, I had to face the problems he'd landed on my shoulders, and then...

And then I'm free of this mess, I thought. Then I can go back to Uncomplicated.

"Maybe I wasn't clear," Diesel hissed angrily. "Fuck off!"

She got right in my face in an attempt to intimidate me, but instead of feeling alarmed, all I felt was a flicker of nervous energy. I lifted a hand, trailing it along the length of my shoulder. The skin was stiff now, the red marks not as visible, but I knew his scent was still embedded there by the way Diesel's nostrils flared, her eyes flashing once more.