Page 17 of Wanted

Visible beneath the edge of the beige curtain, the toe of his right foot shifts an inch to the right. Almost as if he contemplated turning around and stopped himself.

He was talking to a cop as I was wheeled back into my room. I’ve been bracing myself, waiting for someone to take a statement I’m not sure how to give, but Jude only parked himself silently outside.

“How can you be sure who I am?”

“I haven’t met anyone else wearing those filthy black boots.”

With the state of my clothes, I’m not one to talk, but pushing Jude’s buttons seems to be an entertaining way to pass the time until they can cast my arm and get me out of here.

Hearing the audible crack myself, I expected the diagnosis of a broken arm. When I requested nothing more than a proper sling to send me on my way, the medical staff was more than a little puzzled and equally unaccommodating.

They might come to regret their stance when the hospital winds up footing the bill. I don’t have a single penny to my name to pay for this medical care.

“Those filthy boots walked through the woods to save your sorry ass.”

“Don’t praise yourself too hard for a job well done. The four-wheeler did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Is your smart mouth some defense mechanism of yours?”

“I don’t have a defense mechanism.”

The curtain between us ripples. “We all do, sweetheart. Some aren’t quite as obvious as others.”

“What’s yours?”

“None of your business,” he grunts.

A smile stretches my lips. Yes, poking the big bear outside my room is quite fun.

“You know you can leave. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You seem a bit accident-prone to me.”

The paper-covered pillow behind my head crinkles as I shift and stare mutely at the ceiling tiles.

“Unless it wasn’t an accident.” Jude’s voice is heard easily in the silence.

Every muscle in my body coils tight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Heard an interesting rumor.”

I scoff and cross my good arm over my chest despite Jude not being able to see it. “Oh yeah? From who?”

“Got talking to the local cop this morning.”

The simple mention of law enforcement increases my pulse. “I haven’t had any interactions with the police, so whatever you heard must be false.”

His boots creak against the linoleum. “So you wouldn’t know anything about a girl falling out of a car on the highway?”

Fall? Did I fall?

I close my eyes. I imagine the sound of muffled voices. Like listening to an argument through thin walls. The words are nothing more than obscure radio static before the memory of the car ride slips through my fingertips, only to be replaced by a blank emptiness.

“I think I jumped,” I mumble beneath my breath.

The curtain flies open, and Jude’s face stares back at me. Handsome? Yes. Furious? Also yes.

“You what?” he nearly roars, those intense silver eyes on mine.

---