Page 22 of Point of Contact

Was he in the back of a camper?

It would explain the constant movement. But how the fuck would it have happened?

He dropped his feet over the edge of the bed, cringing a little as his raw soles hit the floor. He'd been in socks as they ran through the river. It was better than nothing, but, based on the pain he was experiencing now, not by much. He glanced down, ready to assess the damage, but found his feet were wrapped in gauze and webbing and just as bandaged as his head.

He was also wearing fresh clothes. He wasn't in anything fancy, but the knit shorts and graphic T-shirt were new and clean.

And nothing he owned.

The camper bounced again, making his aching head bounce along with it. Getting to his feet was both an act of determination and focus. Between the pain in his feet, the pain in his head, and the blurriness still lingering at the edges of his vision, it took way too much effort to get upright. Even more to take slow steps through the dated vehicle. It had a musty smell and, from the paneling on the walls to the chipped yellow countertops, looked like something straight out of the seventies. A fact that made it impressive the thing was holding together as they flew down the highway.

And they were definitely flying.

He managed to make it to the front of the vehicle and fell into the passenger’s seat, closing his eyes as his head dropped back against the rest. "You need to slow the fuck down before we get pulled over."

“Damn.” Courtney glanced at him from the corner of her eye, both hands gripping the large steering wheel. "I was kind of hoping a concussion would make you a little less of a dick." She tossed back a long gulp of an energy drink in a black can. “Looks like that was a fail.”

He peered back down at his clean clothes and the bandages on his feet before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”

Courtney shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine. It’s your thing. I get it.” There was an edge to her words that made it seem like even if she did get it, his attitude still hurt her feelings.

And it made him feel like an ass. An ungrateful one.

"Thank you."

Courtney glanced his way again, looking him over. "You're welcome."

They sat quietly for a second, but he had too many questions to keep his mouth shut. "Where did you get the camper?"

Courtney's eyes stayed glued to the road. "I don't think you want me to answer that.

"What about these clothes I'm wearing?"

Courtney pressed her lips together as she shook her head. "No comment."

Her non-answers told him enough. "Should I expect the police to be coming after us?"

Courtney snorted. "The police coming after us is the least of my concerns." She reached into a bag beside her seat and pulled out a bottle of water, holding it his direction. "Thirsty?"

His eyes fell to the drink. One that had most likely been lifted from a convenience store by the woman next to him. Normally, something like that would have him turning it down on principle alone. But right now principles didn't seem very useful.

He took the bottle and cracked the lid. "Thank you again."

Courtney's lips barely lifted in a smile. "You're welcome again." Her brows pinched together as she looked his way. "How are you feeling?"

He swallowed down half the bottle, hoping rehydrating would ease some of the throbbing in his skull. "Like I was dragged to hell and back."

Courtney chewed her lower lip, looking into both side mirrors before changing lanes. "I didn't drag you to hell, but I definitely dragged you at least a quarter of a mile." She settled into the new lane and gave him another glance. "You weigh a fuck ton, by the way."

He laughed as he downed the rest of the water, wiping his forearm across his wet lips before shooting her a grin. "You should just be glad you didn't have to carry my ass down a river in socked feet."

Courtney's brows jumped up, her mouth dropping open. "At least I was conscious while you carried me." She slapped at him, lightly hitting him in the shoulder. "You were dead weight."

He continued to smile, a little amused that the woman who tormented him endlessly had to suffer. And also because the woman who tormented him endlessly saved his ass even though he'd been a complete dick to her. He still might not be Courtney’s biggest fan, but he had to give her props right now. Her means might not be something he agreed with, but she definitely made it to a relatively successful end.

Even if the path getting there was a little… colorful.

And while he didn’t feel the need to jab at her like normal, he couldn’t stop himself from teasing her. Just a little. “What about when you changed my clothes? Was I dead weight then too?”