Chapter Eight
The Fire
Derek scowled to himself at the huge cluster of people around a flaming house as he dropped his speed.
He'd been on his way to drop by Liz's house to pick up Tori and, on the way into her cul-de-sac, he spotted the crowd growing around a single house by nearly hitting some kid that broke away from the crowd and ran into the middle of the cul-de-sac. The little shit had the nerve to smirk at him but he wiped that stupid look off the kid's face when he threateningly revved his engine. Kid took right off.
An ambulance and firetruck sat outside the house, too.
A glimpse of red hair caught his attention and he did a double-take. It was that hyper girl, the one with dreads, from the park. Shit, he thought and threw his car into park on the curb in front of someone's house.
Kari—that was her name, wasn't it?—was talking animatedly to a tall, gaunt woman in doctor scrubs, keeping an ice-pack on her forehead. She looked disheveled, her face smudged and clothes chalky; the busty girl next to her looked a bit calmer, albeit her attire more chalky.
He looked to the ambulance that was loitering outside, back doors open, and spotted her. Chloe. Shittiest the Gifted he'd ever seen since Simon and Simon was only half the Gifted. Her head being inspected by a female paramedic as she stared blankly up at the burning house. It clicked, then; that must've been her house.
"Hey," he called and saw everyone he'd noticed turn to look at him.
Kari's eyes bulged as she screamed, "Holy mother of God, it's Derekzilla!" For emphasis, she stabbed a finger in his direction. He shot her a dark look and felt a surge of pleasure when she backed up.
The black-clad girl beside her smacked her arm with a stern scowl. "Hush," she stated loud enough for Derek to hear as he walked over.
He didn't know why he was even bothering; the redhead was possibly mentally retarded or ADHD positive, the emo girl looked like she was planning his murder, the gaunt doctor was eyeballing him like he was a predator and Chloe was staring at him, wide-eyed.
"What happened?" he asked as he stepped closer.
The fire was still raging, despite the firefighters best efforts to drown it, and he could feel the wave soft heat wafting off it. A long-forgotten memory rose up. The smell of smoke, hot tears in his eyes, the burning in his arms.
"Gas pipe ignited with a spark from a wayward wire," Chloe said absently, turning her dazed sky-blue stare to him.
Derek took a deep breath and shook off the chains of the memory, instead surveying the scene. Maybe it was the Edison Group or just a freak, mundane accident. He scanned the crowd, flitting from face-to-face. No one looked particularly pleased about the fire; not even that smug little shit he'd scared, who went pale at the sight of him and hurried deeper into the crowd.
"I leave you alone for a few days and this is what I come back to?" he said as he turned back to Chloe and glared down at her.
She shrank back, despite the set of her jaw, and curled in on herself, her fee hanging off the back of the ambulance. "W-well, ma-aybe i-if you di-idn-n't lea-eave me alo-one, thi-is wo-ou-ouldn't have ha-happened," she replied but her voice didn't hold any emotion; she sounded hollow, blank.
"Maybe if you weren't so careless and inexperienced, this wouldn't have happened," he barked back. Irritation slowly burned into anger. She was so helpless and utterly useless and couldn't she see how—The heat was there, hotter than he'd remembered, hotter than the day he'd come across her in the woods, and it knocked him off balance. It threatened to emerge from his fingers, and he locked his muscles, forcing it back down, down, down, until he was empty and he felt cold, like he'd been filled with ice instead of heat, and he could see Chloe's big, star-speckled eyes.
"Fucking forget this," he snarled and turned and stalked away.
"Hey! Wait!" she called.
Just like before, he was walking away, and she was chasing him. This time he wouldn't turn back; he wouldn't let her make him so angry that he'd lose control because if he lost control—He glanced back at the smoldering house, flames still going, casting a massive silhouette against the sun.
"I said—damn it, wait!" A hand touched his back, pressed flat, and he spun around so fast, she didn't have time to back up and her hand was still up; he grabbed it and held it tight, keeping it between them. Hard enough to keep her still, not hard enough to hurt her. There was a wild, frantic look in her damn eyes that he didn't want directed at him, couldn't have directed at him.
"Don't ever touch me," he said darkly.
Her eyes stared up at him, helpless as an innocent child, and he dropped her hand. Took a breath. So what if she was stupid and a complete idiot and looked like a little girl? Just because she was stupid and tiny and doe-eyed didn't mean she couldn't be bitch-slapped with the harsh reality of the world. She didn't need sugar-coated sweet nothings and lace-covered nudges.
"Derek, what took you so long?" Tori yelled as she stepped out of Liz's house, still sporting her blonde counterpart's sweatshirt. "Oh, who's the little kid?" As she got closer, she turned red. "Sorry. I don't have my glasses on me."
"I-it's okay," Chloe said, bowing her head as she hugged her arms against her chest, shuffling backwards. Her cheeks looked similar to strawberries.
The dark-haired girl bumped past Derek with her hip. "Jut ignore Derek if he's being a dick with a stick up his ass," Tori said.
"Shut up, Tori," Derek snapped, shoving past his sister to get to his car. His hands were still shaking. He couldn't afford to lose it. That was the last thing she—no, anyone—needed; him losing control and kill everyone.
