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“Of course.” I follow the doctor back, and we enter Makayla’s room. Seeing her lying there, vulnerable, makes my stomach tighten with worry.
I grab the chair and pull it up next to her bed. Her eyes flutter open. “Hey there.”
“Hey,” she whispers, adjusting herself. “Why do I feel like I have lobster claws instead of hands?” She raises both hands.
“Not gonna lie. Never knew how sexy lobster claws were until now. Kind of got a chub starin’ at ’em.” She rolls her eyes and teeters on a laugh, but it’s cut short by a hoarse cough. “Shit, sorry. No jokes. Just relax.”
She eases back onto the bed and closes her eyes. Inhaling a slow breath, she whispers, “Ben?” Her eyes open. “Do you know what happened?”
I lean forward, brushing a piece of soot-covered hair behind her ear. “I don’t, sweetheart, but I will.” My eyes can’t help but peek at her lips. Fuck, do I want to kiss her.
“I know the house is old, but I don’t understand how it could have started—”
“Hey.”
We both turn to Jenny as she stands in the doorway. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. Except they cut my hands off and replaced them with lobster claws. How I’m going to hold a glass of wine ever again is beyond me.”
Jenny laughs, brushing away a tear. “How are you even joking? You scared me to death.” She walks in and stands on the other side of Makayla’s bed. “Makayla, I have to tell you something.” The color drains from her face while she fidgets with her hands.
“What?”
More tears stain her cheeks. She looks over at me, then back to Makayla. “I think this is all my fault.” She wipes at her face. “I keep thinking about how this could have happened. I feel so guilty for leaving you. If I would have stayed—”
“Jenny, this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have sucked and fallen asleep.”
“I know. . . but. . . when I went to get the wine while you were talking outside, I may have bumped into the stove. I didn’t think much of it, but my shirt got stuck. I tugged on it and left the kitchen. What if I turned on the gas and didn’t know?”
Makayla reaches out, then realizes she doesn’t have the means to grab her hand. “Listen, no matter how it happened, it was still an accident. The house is old. I don’t remember ever smelling gas, but if that’s what happened, then it is what it is. No one got hurt—”
“But you did. Look at you.” She lets out another sob.
“Honestly, I’m fine. Well, minus these stupid mittens. I’m going to have to drink out of a straw for a while. Probably not drive. Shit. How am I going to shower?”
I shake my head. This girl. I’m about to tell her I’ll help with the shower part when an officer walks in.
“Evening, folks. Or morning. I’m Officer Polman. Mind if I have a word with Ms. Fischer? I need to collect a statement.”
I don’t want to leave her, but I need to get back to the station. There’s going to be a lot of paperwork after this one.
Jenny is even more hesitant to leave her side. “Do you want me to stay?” she asks, grabbing her claw.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you back home—oh, wait.” Tears prick her eyes. “I don’t have a home,”
Jenny and I blurt out simultaneously.
“You can stay with me.”
“You’re coming home with me.”
I glare over at Jenny and fight back my scowl. “I have an extra room, and it’s closer to your work—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“You probably don’t have clothes. You can borrow anything of mine.”
Fuck, she wins that one. “Honestly, you’d be more comfortable at my place. The clothes aren’t an issue. I can get—”
“And I have the means to take care of her. It’s a girl thing, ya know? We’ll be fine. I’ll wait around until you get—”
