Cravings of the Heart (Trials of Fear Book 5) by James Nicky

Author:James, Nicky [James, Nicky]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2019-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

“Phoenix told you I’m anorexic, didn’t he?”

“Is it true?”

“My family and counselors say so. I wouldn’t dare disagree with them.”

“So are you saying they’re wrong?”

“No, Iggy, I’m saying I’m anorexic.”

Except why doesn’t that sound right to me?

By the time nearly an entire hour had passed, he’d managed to consume only half the bowl of noodles. It must have been stone cold by that time. When he leaned back in his chair and set his spoon down, I knew he was finished.

“Is that all you’re eating.”

“It’s cold and getting mushy. I…” He shook his head and shrugged.

“How about that apple or a few crackers?”

It’s not enough!

He’d left the other items in the kitchen, but with the small number of noodles he’d eaten, I hoped I could encourage him to eat more of something else.

“Sure.”

He pushed back from the table, but I jumped up and grabbed his dishes. “I can get it.”

I had to think. That thought I couldn’t quite grasp lingered so close to the surface, I could almost see it.

What was I missing?

My offer didn’t stand. Arden followed on my heels and took the apple from my hand to the sink. Using a generous squirt of dish soap, he washed it under a stream of water.

Not washed—scrubbed.

And then kept scrubbing.

And scrubbing.

And scrubbing.

All I could do was watch this strange ritual unfold. It was obsessive, almost manic. Like the way he checked his crackers only worse. Compulsive. To the point, I was concerned he wasn’t going to stop.

For a solid minute, Arden didn’t leave the sink. When he deemed his apple clean, he turned and asked, “Do you have a knife?” as though what he’d just done was so commonplace it didn’t warrant attention.

Stalling, rattled by his behavior, it took me a second to process his request. Jumping into action, I found one in a nearby drawer and removed the apple from his hand.

“W-what are you doing?”

I guided him to the couch and sat, pulling him onto my lap so he straddled me. He came warily, eyeing me then the apple.

Carefully, I peeled the skin the same way I’d seen him do before—except this time, I didn’t waste the peels and popped them into my mouth instead. Arden’s body stiffened as he watched, his lips set in a firm line, and he dug fingers into my sides. Once I’d cleared half the apple of peel, I sliced him a wedge and held it to his mouth.

He jerked his head away, panic flooding his face before he removed the apple piece from my hand. Once he’d examined it thoroughly—including sniffing it with a screwed-up scowl—he nibbled the piece much like a rabbit until it was fully consumed.

We continued in this fashion, me cutting pieces and Arden performing a ritual of checking them over before eating each at a snail’s pace. I noted all of it and compared it to the notes I’d made earlier in my mind.

Why scrub it so clean if you’re only going to skin it?

Once he’d put back three

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