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Now the grey dawn is rising outside and I should wake Harper.
The welts on her throat from where that fucker choked her have fully developed and look black in this half-light. As black as my anger. If I ever see him again, he’s dead.
Whatever else happens.
And just about anything might when I wake Harper up. She could let me kiss her. Or she could tell me to hit the road.
And I don’t want to find out which it will be.
Yet I need to.
She’s been tossing and turning for the last half an hour or so, moaning in her sleep. Whatever dream she’s having isn’t a good one. She’d be better off awake.
Maybe we can even have the conversation that we didn’t get to have last night.
The one where I tell her I can’t live without her. Whenever I try, I fail.
But whenever I try to tell her that, I fail too.
Enough thinking.
I lay my hand gently on her bare shoulder and call her name softly. She jerks awake as though I poked her with a cattle prod at the very least.
For a few moments her eyes are wide and disoriented, and she’s breathing hard through her slightly open mouth. It feels like a punch to the throat to see fear in her eyes as they meet mine.
But recognition and remembering overshadow it quickly.
“So it wasn’t just a dream,” she mutters hoarsely and her eyes fill with fear again as she reaches to touch her throat.
“Did that asshole damage your vocal chords?” I ask loudly. I didn’t think I could hate him more, but I do. He’s fucking dead.
She blinks a few times then nods. “Seems that way, but I don’t think it’s very bad. I’m sure it’ll be fine. After some rest.”
“Where was Hunter last night, anyway?” I ask harshly. If he’d been there, this wouldn’t be a problem. “Weren’t you two traveling together?”
She keeps her hand gently pressed against her throat as though trying to keep it warm.
“Only part way,” she says. “He’s gone to stay with Lily at the reservation.”
“We should pack up and leave town,” I tell her. “And we can stop by the hospital and get your throat checked out.”
She started off glaring at me, but her eyes softened considerably.
“Isn’t that too dangerous?” she asks. “Manny… the guy from last night… might be there… and…”
Her eyes are wide and scared again and I’m pretty sure I know what she’s thinking but can’t say.
“Yes, I’m sure the cops are looking for me,” I say so she doesn’t have to. “But no one knows where I am and I can stay out of sight.”
“Manny knows you’re with me,” she says.
I hate the sound of his name on her lips.
“And I can’t exactly stay out of sight,” she adds. “I’m on tour.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I say and lean back from the force of the anger erupting in her eyes.
She’s gorgeous all the time, inside and out, but when she gets angry… that’s out of this world attractive. Magnetic, really. The very air in the room is crackling with the force of her presence and she’s just getting started.
