Page 62 of You Found Me
She checked the pantry. Cleaning supplies huddled together in the corner, surrounded by empty shelves.
“When you say you live here, what do you mean by that? I mean, you do eat, right? You don’t just plug in at night?”
“It’s been a while.” Ward strode past her. “I’m going to get set up in the office. Make yourself at home, but stay inside. Please.”
“This is hell, isn’t it.” Della slid onto one of the barstools, dejected and exhausted. “There’s no food so it must be hell.”
“We ate on the plane.” Ward’s stomach made a low grumbling noise.
“Aha!” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re hungry too. Admit it.”
The expression on his face twisted through frustration and annoyance before settling on acceptance. “Fine. I’ll head out for supplies first. What would you like me to pick up?”
Della blinked. The question was simple, startlingly domestic, and almost kind.
It was way out of character for her warden.
She started to ask for her usual smoothie ingredients, then paused. It had been a hell of a month.
She wanted comfort food.
“I want the biggest bag of Cheetos you can find. The plain kind, not the weird flavor kinds.” She held out her hands to indicate the size she wanted. “Family size. Jumbo. Whatever.”
“That’s not food.” Ward paced back to the front door, his keys jingling.
“Look,Donovan.” She followed, stopping long enough to toe off her shoes. “You’ve ripped me away from my family and my life, you’ve changed my hairandmy name, and you’ve dumped me in the middle of Nowheresville, Pennsylvania. I’m not even allowed to do the one thing that makes me feel like me. I want. Some. Damn. Cheetos.”
He grunted as he stepped onto the porch, then turned back, maybe to argue.
“And Dr. Pepper. With ice.” She shut the door in his face, then leaned her forehead against it.
A loud knock on the window next to the door made her heart jump.
“Lock the door.” Ward’s command wasn’t muffled at all by the glass between them.
She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned the lock.
“You stay in this house with the doors and windows locked. Don’t open for anybody.” Footsteps clomped down the front porch steps and faded into the distance.
Bored, Della wandered upstairs.
Ward had claimed the first bedroom she came to, the one closest to the stairs. At first, she thought it might have been to keep her from sneaking out.
Then she realized he’d picked it because it was his.
The room was filled with sports memorabilia. Trophies lined a shelf along one wall, a jersey with the number seven on it was pinned to another wall, and a large poster near the window featured a list of games with scores highlighted for each.
A big yellow and blue lightning bolt with the word Boltz split the wall above the bed. In the middle of the bolt, the word Storm had been stenciled, along with the number seven.
He was a high school quarterback, according to a poster that listed all the team members.
She couldn’t resist peeking in his drawers. She had a burning curiosity to find out what kind of underwear he wore.
Shame they were all empty.
She was tempted to take a peek inside his duffel bag, but stopped herself. It felt like crossing a line, somehow. Teenage Ward was fair game. Adult Ward didn’t deserve to know she was curious.
The closet contained baseball bats and gloves, several footballs, and a battered folding chair.