Page 86 of Chasing Lynda

Dodge puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry, dude. It’s just ...”

Zane nods. “I know. Don’t sweat it. Let me take care of Lynda’s legs before she gets a blister. Can you keep her waffles warm? We won’t be long.”

I follow Zane into the closest bathroom, surprised that none of the others follow us.

***

Zane

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I CLOSE THE BATHROOM door behind us and immediately open the cabinet under the sink where I know that Miss Watson keeps a first aid kit. “Come here, baby,” I say softly, picking her up and lifting her onto the counter by the sink.

I make a cold compress with a wash cloth and set it down on Lynda’s thigh, where an angry red mark has appeared. “Does it hurt?” I ask her, feeling guilty.

She shakes her head, her blue eyes fixed onto mine. “Not anymore. The cold cloth feels good.”

I nod. “We’ll make sure to cool that part down and then we’ll put on the burn gel I found in the first aid kit. It doesn’t look serious; I think it’s just a third degree burn.”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Thank you for taking care of me, Zane.”

Her gaze drops down to her light blue shorts, now stained with coffee.

“I’m sorry about ruining your cute outfit. If the stain doesn’t wash off, I’ll get you a new pair.”

Lynda sighs and I’m surprised by the sadness in it. I know it isn’t just about the ruined shorts even before she tells me what’s on her mind.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you don’t have to buy me new ones even if the stain doesn’t go away. Dodge gave Callie his credit card when he asked her to help me get some clothes. You guys have been so generous with me and I know after the fire, you’re in trouble with money—”

I interrupt her. It isn’t the first time I have the feeling that she feels like she’s a burden of some kind. “Of course! Lynda, replacing your clothes is the least that we could do. You lost all your stuff in the fire at our hotel. Fuck, you could’ve been hurt if you’d gone back to your room.”

I can’t suppress a shudder when I think that she could be a body at the morgue, too burned to be identified.

“But I had just arrived in town to try and decide if I wanted to stick around. I didn’t have much with me and Callie bought me a lot of stuff. They haven’t even delivered everything yet.”

I smile. “There’s nothing wrong with that. We owed you the money of your prize for the wet t-shirt contest anyway, right?”

She snorts, flinching a little bit when I lift the cloth from her skin to soak it in cold water again, before reapplying it. “We both know that just what I’m wearing right now was more than the three-hundred bucks of the prize. Callie kept shopping for designer stuff, I told her to go for cheaper stores but she didn’t listen. I already owe you guys for letting me stay here.”

I hate how she seems to think that she’s an inconvenience; she acted the same way that first night I bought her dinner.

I wonder if that asshole ex she told me about is responsible for that too. “Lynda, part of your prize was two nights at the hotel and we almost got you killed in a fucking fire.”

She looks at me and I was right; she thinks that we asked her to stick around just because we feel responsible.

“Zane, we both know that it’s my fault that Monroe started the fire.”

I look at her, bewildered that she’d think that way. “How the fuck is that your fault? Unless you gave birth to that piece of scum, I don’t see how you’re responsible for his actions.”

She looks down to her feet, her shoulders slump dejectedly; not for the first time, I think that if I found who’s responsible for instilling in her this constant sense of guilt, they’ll be fucking sorry.

“Yeah but you fired him because of me. Because of the photo shoot.”

I snicker, pressing down harder on the compress at the thought of how that lowlife tried to put his filthy hands on Lynda first and then tried to sell her to the club’s VIP guests for “dances.”

“Lynda, that was just the tip of the iceberg. Monroe was a fucking ticking bomb. Impossible to control and always in search of questionable ways to make money. Trying to grope you and selling vouchers for dances with you wasn’t the first strike. Who do you think missed the fire inspections that invalidated our insurance policy? We were just looking for an excuse to fire him and Carter had already given him a warning after we realized how he’d neglected a lot of his duties as resort manager. So please, stop blaming yourself for any of the shit that went down last weekend.”

She still doesn’t look at me, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “It’s just that you guys bought me all these clothes and you invited me to stay longer than just the two nights of the prize. And—”

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