Page 42 of Wolf's Gambit

Shaking my head again, I sighed. “I dunno. Hey, do you know the blond guy who works the bar at Joe’s?”

“Should I?”

“He accused me of cheating on the fight with Bullet…says he thinks you staged it. I think it was him.”

Vance’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Has he seen the fucking state you’re in?”

I didn’t tell him I looked better yesterday. The night in the woods had helped mess me up, and I wasn’t planning on healing myself until I was long gone from here.

“I had a lot of makeup on yesterday,” I admitted. I had to give him something.

“What’s his name?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” I admitted truthfully. “Is Bullet still pissed?”

Vance looked me over. “Spitting nails last time I saw him. You think this guy chased you?” he asked carefully. “This guy from the bar?”

Rubbing my forehead, I winced in pain. Looking at my hand, I saw dried blood and fresh blood. “Shit.”

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” Vance said firmly, putting the truck into drive.

“No. I just need to sleep.” Reaching for the door handle, I looked back at him. “Thanks for the ride. Not sure my feet would have made it.”

Vance was watching me, then let out a long sigh, his head tipping backward. “Do not make me regret this,” he said with a growl. “Put your belt on. I’m taking you to my cabin.”

My eyes opened wide with alarm. “I don’t need?—”

“Shut up, Zia. You’re bleeding”—he looked me over again—“everywhere, I think. You’ve probably got a concussion, and you’re telling me some dicks chased you last night. You’re coming with me.”

“I can look after myself,” I told him, pulling the door handle. “Thanks.” Stiffly, I got out of the truck, ignoring my aches and pains. I was five steps away from his truck when he picked me up and carried me back to it. “Vance!”

“Shut up, Zia.”

I went to protest again, but my strength was gone. I was so tired. This was the first time I genuinely felt human, and it sucked.

Docilely, I let him put me in his truck. I said nothing when he glared at me, and he walked back to the driver’s side.

Fifteen minutes later, we were heading up a dirt track, the trees thick around us.

The cabin was small with an open plan. There was one door in the far corner, which was obviously the bathroom. I hoped.

“This it?” I asked cautiously as I looked around.

“Yup,” Vance opened a small closet and pulled out two towels. “Bathroom,” he said, pointing to the corner, then held the towels out to me. “Shower. When you’re done, come out, and I’ll stitch you up.”

I hesitated. It was only him and me. I’d never been alone with someone before, except my brother. Vance didn’t give me brotherly vibes. In fact, Vance gave me don’t-mess-with-me- or-I’ll-kill-you vibes.

“You bleed on my floor, I’ll be pissed.” He looked me over and thrust the towels at me again. “Let me make this simple. I don’t want to fuck you, I’m not going to fuck you, and if you ask me to fuck you, I’ll say no.”

“So…you’re just being a good guy?” I asked dubiously, taking the towels off him.

Vance snorted. “Fuck no. But I’m not leaving you alone until I know who the fuckers are that chased you.”

Twisting the towels in my hands, I squinted at him. “That sounds like a good-guy thing to do.”

“Shower before I change my mind.”

The bathroom door didn’t lock, but it didn’t stop me from stripping out of my clothes and turning on the water. The shower was over the bathtub, so I waited for it to heat and then cautiously climbed into the tub.

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