Free The Scavengers by Gen Griffin Page B

of skin next to both heels and on the edges of my big toe.
    I couldn't argue with that, so instead I sat down on the edge of the bed and began untying the laces on the boots so I could try them on. A pair of socks were sitting next to me on the bed so I pulled them onto my feet and purposely ignored Seth as he rattled around in the closet while I put the boots on.
    Five minutes later I finally had to admit he'd managed to pick a pair of boots that fit me well. He handed me a neat looking pink backpack that had the appearance of being stuffed to the point of bursting the zipper.
    “What is this?” I asked him.
    “Practical clothes,” he replied. “I took the liberty of going through the closet and packing up everything I thought you would be able to use.”
    “That was,” I paused and considered him carefully. His shaggy black hair was falling across his good eye and I thought I saw a hint of apology in his expression. Had he realized how much his calling me Carolina had disturbed me? I thought he had, because the bag of clothes seemed like a kind of apology. “Nice of you,” I finished. “Thanks.”
    “You're welcome.” He held out a second item to me. It took me a minute to realize it was a medium-thick light brown canvas jacket. “Take this too.”
    “I like mine,” I said as I shook my head. Dad's jacket still smelled like him. Wearing it was as close as I could get to feeling like I was back safe in my Dad's arms. I wasn't willing to part with that feeling yet.
    “It’s too bulky. It’s going to get snagged on something at the worst possible moment. You could get hurt,” he said. He thrust the other jacket at me. “Don't get yourself killed for a stupid reason.”
    “Why do you care?” I couldn't stop myself from blurting out the question that was now weighing heavily on my mind. Seth had been easier to understand when I'd thought he wanted to hurt me. Now it was obvious that he didn't and I had no idea why he was still around.
    “I like you.” He returned my bluntness with some of his own. “You have guts.”
    “Guts?” I asked. I rubbed my hands down the outside of Dad's jacket once more and reluctantly realized Seth was right. It was too much fabric. I slipped it down off my shoulders and laid it gently on the bed.
    “Courage. Spirit. Whatever. You're smart and you're brave. I like that.” Seth held the new jacket out to me again. This time I took it.
    “Drake hates you.” I wasn't sure why I kept opening my mouth and blurting out things that were better kept to myself.
    “Don't trust Drake.”
    “Drake's a hero, why wouldn't I trust him?”
    “You only think he's a hero because you think you're in love with him,” Seth countered. I nearly choked on my own spit. I didn't know which part of that comment I wanted to argue with him about first.
    “Drake is a hero and I am in love with him,” I finally managed after I stopped coughing.
    “Liar.” Seth shook his head at me. “You're not in love with him. You’re in love with the person he's supposed to be.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
    Seth opened his mouth to answer but before he could the door downstairs banged open loudly.
    “Pilar! You ready yet?” Kennedy called up the stairs. “Ain't nothing here that we can use.”
    “Just a minute!” I called out quickly. I expected Seth to try to bolt out the door or duck into the closet but instead he took a step towards the table he'd set the gun on.
    “Hey!” I hissed at him. “Don't you dare...”
    He stuffed the gun into the pocket of the jacket he'd just made me put on. I was surprised to find it slid all the way in to the pocket and slipped past the lining into a hiding place deep in the depths of the quilting. I blinked up at Seth as I realized he’d modified the jacket to fit the gun before he'd handed it to me.
    “Oh,” I breathed out softly. He winked at me with his dead eye. It was a distinctly disturbing gesture but I didn't have time to think