Page 31 of Burn

“Water, maybe.” I ran my tongue over my lower lip. There wasn’t a lot of moisture in my mouth.

“I’ll grab you a glass,” Lunchbox offered. He didn’t wait for a response, just detoured into the bathroom. The water running echoed out briefly before he returned with a glass. It was a medium sized tumbler and he’d filled it three-quarters.

A part of me wanted to ask if it was filtered. The rest of me just didn’t care. There were far more problems than whether the water was filtered or had lemon or lime with it. His fingers brushed mine as he handed it to me.

“It’s not super cold,” he warned. “But cold enough.”

“Thanks,” I managed, though it came out croakier. My eyes were still sore and apparently my throat wasn’t much better. I drank about half of it in one gulp, thirstier than I realized.

Lunchbox folded his arms as he stared down at me. His fierce expression gave me pause.

“Something wrong?” Maybe that was a stupid inquiry right now. I had a lot of questions, and what few answers they’d been willing to share were ones I didn’t like.

“You’re upset,” he told me. “You were crying.”

I shrugged. “Stress relief.” I downed the rest of the water, then scooted off the bed. If we were going to keep talking, I didn’t want to be craning my neck to look up at him.

The room felt too small with him in here. I hadn’t noticed that with Bones earlier. But when I woke up, he’d been seated in the chair and not looming over the bed. Empty glass in hand, I headed to the bathroom.

“Gracie…” Lunchbox trailed off as I closed the door. Leaning against it for a moment, I stared at the bathroom. Pushing off of it, I put the glass aside before I took the time to empty my bladder.

After I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face, I gave myself a once over. I didn’t have any cosmetics to hide the pallor or the reddening around my eyes. For a brief moment, I could picture Am leaning against the bathroom door making faces at me via the mirror.

“You’re beautiful just as you are.”

I snorted. “You’re just saying that because you look better than me right now.”

Am rolled her eyes. “We look exactly alike. So if I look better then so do you.”

“Maybe.” But I’d hidden a grin. “You’re still my favorite sister.”

That earned me another set of rolled eyes before she gave me a playful shove.

The memory faded and took with it my smile. Shaking off the melancholy wouldn’t be easy. Focus on how to persuade these guys to let me call Amorette sooner rather than later.

Had I merely traded one set of captors for another?

It wasn’t a thought I was comfortable with, particularly after how nice they’d been.

The skeptical part of me wanted to turn that whole thought process over. Were they only nice to make sure I stayed compliant? Then, they weren’t the people who pulled us out of that truck. Or brought a doctor to look after us.

No, they’re the guys those guys called to see everyone to safety.

Everyone except me, which was also not fair. They had taken me home. It wasn’t their faultmorestrange men broke in like they’d been waiting for me to arrive. Looking at every single person with suspicion could drive me insane.

My mouth went dry all over again. I refilled the glass with water and drained it once more before leaving the bathroom. Lunchbox remained where I’d left him.

“I’m sorry that our taking you home didn’t work out,” he said. “I’m not sorry that we were there to prevent whatever those assholes were there for.”

“I don’t recall asking you for an apology.” I folded my arms as I studied him. He’d found a shirt, but the cotton clung to his chest, illustrating his musculature. The deep blue color of it though did pull my attention to the tattoo on his arm. I’d seen it earlier, but I hadn’t really studied it.

“No,” he said slowly. “You didn’t. You’re upset.”

“My sister is missing. I was kidnapped. Then kidnapped from the kidnappers. Then freed by a third group and just when I thought I’d be home, I’m not.” I unfolded my arms and spread them wider. “I don’t know what to do with this. The one thing I really want right now, none of you are willing to let me do.”

“You want to call your sister.”

It wasn’t a question. At my nod, he raked a hand through his hair. But it was too neatly cut to do more than ruffle it before it settled right back into place.

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