Page 19 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

His entire body was trembling and his face ashen.

“Here.” I cracked the water bottle, then popped the lid on the medicine. “Can you sit up?”

It took him a moment, but he opened his eyes and shoved up on an elbow to take the pills from my hand and chase them down with a sip of water.

“More.” I tipped the bottle back to his lips.

He shook his head.

“More,” I insisted and only when he swallowed a long gulp did I let him lie back down. I dumped some of the water onto the washcloth. It wasn’t cold, but it was cool. Then I laid it across his brow.

“Thanks,” he murmured and opened his eyes to scan the space. “Where’s my blanket?”

“Here.” It was tucked against the wall beside his feet. I grabbed it and shook it out, making sure there wasn’t a spider or another bug between the folds. Then I laid it over Karson, watching as he clutched it to his heart.

I sat back, watching. Was the Tylenol working? What if it didn’t? “I think I should get Lou.”

“No.” Karson reached for me and took my hand, tucking it to his chin.

The whiskers on his jaw tickled my knuckles, but even past them, his skin felt too warm. “Karson, I should get Lou.”

“I’ll be okay. Just . . . sit with me.”

“Okay,” I agreed, but if he didn’t stop shivering soon, I was getting Lou.

I inched closer, crisscrossing my legs. Then I slipped my hand free of his and pulled the cloth from his forehead, folding and refolding it so it would feel cool.

“Lou gave me this blanket. Did I tell you that?” Karson’s eyes drifted shut. His words were hushed and slurred.

“Yeah.”

We all knew this blanket was special.

Maybe Aria was right after all and Lou did love us.

After Karson ran away from home, he’d wandered around Temecula for a while. Somehow, he’d chanced upon the road to the junkyard, hoping to find a spot to sleep, like on a bench or under a tree.

He’d come toward the junkyard and spotted a fire. Lou had been burning wood scraps in a metal barrel. Or maybe it had been trash. Lou burned most of his garbage, even though Karson had told me it was illegal. Lou just put wood on top to hide the garbage.

The light from the fire had caught Karson’s attention, illuminating the side gate. After Lou had gone inside, Karson had shoved it open and snuck in. Then he’d camped out on an old truck’s bench seat in the yard.

He kept coming back for a month, nearly every night.

“Scared me to death,” Karson murmured. “That night he came out with the blanket. I thought I was so clever, coming in and out under his notice. Then he tossed the blanket on me, and I realized he’d known all along.”

I gave him a sad smile. “Aria thinks he loves us.”

“He does. In his own way.” Karson’s shivering became violent. Sweat sheened his cheeks and his breaths were coming in shaky pants.

“Karson, I think—”

“Stay. I’m fine. Don’t leave, Clara. Promise.”

Ugh. This was stupid, but that didn’t stop me from whispering, “Promise.”

And I stayed. All night. Until dawn cracked the horizon and the sun’s rays bled through the gaps in the tent’s walls. Until Karson’s fever broke.

I stayed until he opened his eyes and smiled. “I had the sweetest dream.”