WITH A BEWILDERED shake of her head, Faith stepped back and closed the door, blocking the swarm of bloodthirsty mosquitoes trying to squeeze through the thin netting of the screen. From the window, she studied Rawls. Or at least what she could see of him, which was the tense line of his back and even tenser set of his shoulders. He was headed across the compound at a swift clip, apparently determined to put as much distance between them in the shortest amount of time as possible.
She watched him for another second or so before dragging herself away. Her heartbeat was settling and with each second, the threat of tachycardia diminished. Time to turn her mind to other things, soothing things. Luckily she had plenty to keep her busy. The roast wouldn’t prepare itself. She needed to get it into the oven soon or chance the helicopter landing with a horde of hungry people and nothing to feed them—nothing substantial anyway. But as she went to work studding the roast with the rest of the garlic cloves, her mind circled back to those sensual moments on Rawls’s lap.
Hard to believe the man hotfooting it across the compound was the same man who’d kissed her silly only minutes before. Or if not silly, at least into mindlessness. Although, that term didn’t quite fit either, not when her brain had been fully engaged, every synapse aware and focused—on him. A more apt term might be lustfulness.
Maybe the whispers were true. Maybe the man was borderline crazy. His behavior had certainly indicated some kind of mental tic. There’d been that bizarre obsessive focus on the cookies, the way he’d thrown that cookie at the wall. The loud talking, like he was competing with some kind of noise even though there was no radio or television on the premises. There’d been no distractions in the kitchen . . . unless the noise was in his own mind . . .
And then there’d been that final bit, his sudden premonition that something was about to happen to her. Because that’s what it had seemed like—an advance warning. He’d known something was about to happen several seconds before it did. Why else would alarm have descended on his face? Why else would he have shouted that peculiar warning and sprinted toward her? A person didn’t behave in such a manner unless they knew—or at least believed—something terrible was about to happen.
Acidic, all-consuming pain flashed through her mind.
She flinched from the memory. Never before had she experienced such agony, which said a lot considering her medical history. But that consuming volcanic burn had been new. Unexpected. And beneath the burn had been the strangest sensation of compression. Like something was squashing her bones and flesh and nerves together, squeezing her into a small ball of pure agony.
What had happened? Had that horrific, internal burn been a seizure? It was the only thing that made a modicum of sense, yet even that didn’t explain much. She’d coexisted with her medical conditions—not to mention all the medications she was taking—for fifteen years. In some cases, even longer, almost three decades. Seizures had never been a side effect or symptom she’d had to worry about. Could going off the suppressors have triggered something?
Except the burning hadn’t originated in her brain, and seizures were the result of electrical impulses misfiring in the synapses of the brain.
The sound of the front door opening pulled her from the chaotic circling of her thoughts. Expecting Rawls, she turned, only to find Kait stepping into the room. From the uncomfortable expression on her face, the other woman knew something.
“Rawls said you could use some company,” Kait said as she crossed the room.
“You saw him?” Faith glanced up, and then went back to inserting cloves of garlic into the roast.
“No. He called on the two-way radio.” Kait held the short, square radio up as though offering proof.
Since cell service didn’t work up here, everyone had been given a walkie-talkie, or two-way radios as the men called them. The devices operated from radio to radio on a fixed frequency and didn’t require cell tower service, so they’d proved remarkably handy for keeping everyone connected. While the range of the instruments was restricted—up to thirty miles according to Wolf—the limitations hadn’t had any effect on the radios’ reception, but then everyone was hanging out within shouting distance of each other.
“How did he sound?” Faith bent and slipped the roast into the oven, before crossing to the sink to wash the stink of garlic from her hands.
“Fine.” Kait closed in on the counter with its array of baked goods. After a quick glance at Faith, she lifted her shoulders and reached for a knife, slicing off a hunk of zucchini bread. “He didn’t say much, though. Just that you weren’t feeling well and could use some company.”
The cold knot inside her stomach she hadn’t even been aware of prior to this moment loosened and warmed. He’d been concerned for her. Still, she didn’t particularly want the companionship.
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine.” At the lift to Kait’s eyebrows, she forced a smile. “Honestly. I’m fine.”