Page 30 of Burn

Chapter

Eleven

GRACE

Icouldn’t hide in the room all day. No matter what the plans were. The only reason I’d come back in here at all was to keep from crying in front of them. I wanted to scream that every minute could be a minute Am was in danger.

She’d never give up on me.

I was never going to give up on her.

The inescapable problem came in the facts as Bones and Voodoo laid them out. Calling Am’s place to see if she answered might only betray our location without proper precautions. While he didn’t make it sound like an impossible task, it just wasn’t something they were willing to do—right now.

Apparently, it was something we could do later, when we left this place. I slung myself down onto the bed. A place we weren’t leaving because they haddecidedI needed to rest.

I scrubbed at the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Crying only made me blotchy, turned my nose red, and had my eyes swelling. It was a terrible look. It was also like admitting defeat.

Yes, I cried. I cried whenMamandied. I cried when our old ginger cat passed away. I cried the first time a photographerscreamed at me for eating in the middle of a long shoot because I was already too fat.

He was a dick, but the point was I did cry. I just hated crying. I hated the feeling of loss. I didn’t want to associate it with Am in any way. It felt too much like betrayal. So did staying here torestwhen we could be looking for her.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I snapped awake when a hand touched my ankle. Adrenaline spiked in my system and I jerked away, barely swallowing a scream as Lunchbox raised both of his hands to show me his palms.

Oh.

Not a stranger.

My breath came in fast, shallow pants.

“You with me?” Lunchbox asked in a calm, rational voice and I stared at him. Was I?

Yes. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deeper breath before I sat up and met his gaze. “Yes,” I said aloud. “You startled me.”

“So I gathered.” He lowered his hands, his grim expression arresting me. “You were talking in your sleep.”

I was? I pushed a hand through my hair. It was still damp since I hadn’t used the blow dryer. My hair could take forever to dry.

“Sorry if it bothered you.” I had no idea what time it was.

Lunchbox canted his head. “Never said it bothered me, Gracie. Just heard you through the door when I came to check on you. I knocked, but you were muttering.”

That could be embarrassing. I fumbled for something to say, but what could I say? I wiped a hand over my mouth, checking to make sure I hadn’t drooled.

“Do you know what time it is?” The lack of a clock or any structure wore at me. There weren’t even any windows in here.

“It’s a little after two,” he said, then added a belated, “in the afternoon.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the bed and then back at him. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You needed the rest.” Everything about him was careful, contained, and gentle. Like he was handling someone volatile. “I’m glad you got some sleep. Are you hungry?”

I debated the internal question, but then shook my head. “Not really. I ate a lot at breakfast.”

“Not really,” he said. “I don’t think you ate a combined six hundred calories.”

“That’s a lot when you’re inactive.” Not that it mattered right now.

His skeptical look was almost humorous. “Right. You could probably handle something light and it would be good for your system.”

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