Page 46 of Love Me Dangerous

Starting at the base of my skull, Sofie’s fingertips press on my vertebrae, wiggling each one.

I suck in a breath when she gets halfway down.

“Here?” She softens her touch.

“More to the right,” I grit out as the pain taps harder, echoing deeper, through muscle and bone.

She walks her fingers along my rib. Her caring touch sends goosebumps everywhere. I wish I could stop them, but it happens anyway.

“There. Fuck.” I lay there panting when what I want to do is scream in frustration.

Sofie and her dad share a look.

Sofie continues down. My lower vertebrae are sore, but I think some of that first blow was absorbed by my backpack.

“How about your sides?” Rowdy asks.

Sofie gently presses her palm onto either side of my lower back. It hurts, but it’s not sharp like the rib.

“Looks like no broken vertebrae. That bruise has me worried, but I don’t see the harm in letting you rest, check how you feel in the morning.”

I release a sigh into the comforter. Resting here sounds so good I could cry. The house is warm and quiet. The bed is firm and spacious, with a soft comforter.

“You might feel better on that right side.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve had my ribs broken, but I don’t need to tell him that. When I roll to my right, the pain lessens just enough that I can imagine resting for a little while.

Sofie moves to my feet and gently slips off my shoes. The tiny amount of jostling sends pain messages shooting up my spine, but they ebb as soon as she’s done.

Rowdy squats down so our eyes lock in the darkness. “Did you see anything we can use to find who did this?”

His use of the plural brings up all the raw emotions I’m trying to keep inside. Because I would love to not be alone in this fight. Yet it means trusting him—a stranger.

“Black truck,” I say. “Might have a broken headlight.”

“Which one?”

I close my eyes for a moment to think. “Left.”

“What’s your backpack look like?”

“Gray. Orange straps. Faded though.”

“All right,” Rowdy says.

He and Sofie unfold a thick comforter over me.

“Thank you,” I say while Sofie carefully tucks in the edges.

A tall girl in pale yellow pajama bottoms and a T-shirt peers around the doorframe. “Daddy?”

Rowdy steps over to her and cradles her shoulders. “I’m sorry we woke you, honey.”

“What’s happening?” She tries to peek around her dad. “Is it Jesse?”

“No, a friend of Sofie’s. He’s hurt, but he’s okay. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” He leads her from the room.

A door closes somewhere deeper inside the house.

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