LA FURIA

Chapter 7

Finally, he lay down on his sleeping bag and started telling her his plans for the family business. And, boy, he couldn't wait to take over. But naturally, his dad would want him to start low. Lowest man on the totem pole. That's okay; he'd wait for it anyway.

Before he fell asleep, his last sentence was,

"Oh no, moron...I talked too much."

Why would he want to hold back?

Feeling fairly tired herself; she fell asleep on the thought.

Rachel sneezed five times. It woke him up. What happened to her? Edward looked, and in an instant, he groaned.

She still slept on top of her sleeping bag with nothing to cover her. She must really hate blankets. He touched her fingertips and found them cold, almost bluish. This outdoor sleeping wasn't a good idea after all. If only he had known...

Thank goodness she had no fever.

Edward realized that it was early morning, the sun was about to rise. His body clock still worked just fine. This was really his usual waking-up time. He had to check for ghosts again.

He spread his sleeping bag over Rachel, making sure she was alright before he left.

Finding the right tree to climb, he stood on the highest sturdy branch, just like what he did on the railing.

He focused the binoculars on the sea. What he saw made his lip tighten grimly.

"Rachel! Wake up! Party's over. Time to go," he pulled her arms hastily.

"Wha...what...," barely awake, she sat down, rubbing her eyes.

"No time for questions! Don't you understand? Come on!" his face was flushed, she could almost feel his tension... and another feeling she never saw in him before.

Fear.

All the while she thought he feared nothing. Or she could be mistaken.

He lifted her up in a lover's carry and ran straight to the yacht. Once h had settled her down in the vessel, he shoved the plank into the water and hurried to the engine room. Before she could follow him down there, the yacht began to move at full speed, she almost fell.

Rachel hadn't a clue what was going on. Was that another one of his mood swings? She didn't think so. She went to the engine room and found him studying the map again. He was uneasy. He had taken off his shirt, breathing heavily.

"What was that all about?!"

He turned to look at her, then back at the map, marking some spots with a pencil. "Nothing," came his reply.

"No, it's no. You have to tell me. I want to know what's going on. Who are you running away from?" she demanded desperately. He kept a lot of secrets from her already, she couldn't take it anymore. He had left so many puzzles in his trail for her to pick up. Rachel wanted her peace of mind back. He dropped the pencil on the floor and turned his back. He dropped the pencil on the floor and turned his back to her, his head down.

"What was that all about?!" she repeated her question.

"None of your business is what it's all about!" he shouted back, closing the gap between them in three strides.

"Well, I'm making it my business! What the hell do I know?! I don't know who and what you are. I don't know where exactly you're taking me. I don't know what you're planning to do with me, and what clothes you'll pick for me to wear tomorrow! There's a whole lot of hell I don't know!"

He was silent then. But he kept staring at her, his eyes cloudy with emotion. She could almost see smoke coming out of his nostrils with his ragged, furious breathing. She knew it would be suicide to fight him like this, but she had enough.