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Would she still have Nic?
Still have Adam?
Still have the only family she’d ever truly known?
Her chest tightened and she knew the sob was bubbling up in her chest. How many times had she wished that?
She fisted her hand and felt the pull of freshly mending flesh tear and split. She tried to swallow the pain.
“Iz?”
She hunched toward the window. She could feel the abused skin slicken.
“What is it?” He swore and pushed a button on the screen. “Rest area or gas station,” he said.
A melodious voice said, “Working. Please choose from list below.”
The voice prompts filled the car as he maneuvered off the main road and into a town. The bright lights of a gas station blinded her.
She blinked away the fuzzy edges of sleep and saw that a few dry patches were bleeding. She must have slept through her time to use the ointment. The stiffness of her entire body told her that she’d slept way longer than she thought.
She cradled her hand against her chest and leaned over. She’d been out nearly seven hours. With even breaths, she tried to align her spine with the seat and sit up straight.
“I knew I should have woken you up.” He sighed. “So this is how it’s going to be between us? You’re never going to talk again? If you think that’s going to work then you’re delusional, babe.”
She scowled at him.
“You can give me the bratty scowl all you want. I’m not going to shut up, and I’m not going to let you shut me out. Aimee stole a lot from me, too. I loved them, too.”
She turned her face to the window.
“Yeah, go ahead and sulk. That’ll make the next few months awesome.”
He pulled up to the front of the store and went inside. He came back out holding a bag and went to her side of the car. She slapped the lock on the door and stared ahead.
“Oh, nice. What are you eight, for fuck’s sake?” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door.
She held her arm against her chest and wouldn’t look at him.
He reached into the car and she jerked back. He pressed his thumb into the lapbelt’s buckle and unleashed her.
Fiona sat up in the back. She tucked her big head on Bella’s shoulder and nudged her. Automatically, she nuzzled against the warm dog. Fiona backed up and sat down on her seat again with a low chuff of a bark.
Logan eased her legs out and turned her so she faced him. “Let me see.”
She tried to take the bag from him. She could take care of herself.
He dumped the bag on her lap and took out the water and stack of napkins he’d taken from the store. He wet down a few and held out his hand palm up.
His green eyes were blazing with anger and hurt. She sighed and laid her hand on top of his. He gently blotted her flesh, murmuring soft apologies as he wiped away the abused flecks of skin.
He unearthed the bag at her feet and found the silvery gel that she used as a barrier on some of the worst of the burns that had thickened. His touch was so gentle and compassionate, in direct opposition to the emotions in his eyes.
The ball of tension got bigger with every act of care until her chest felt too full, her eyes stinging with blocked tears. At the bottom of the knapsack, he took out thin cotton coverings for her hands. They looked like huge oven mitts.
Where the hell had he gotten those?
They were perfect to cover her hands and not stick to every little bit. It would also keep her from staining everything. Half her sweatshirts were ruined from the greasy ointment.
