Page 63 of Burn

You’d have thought we did this every single day. The byplay between them was fascinating to watch. His awareness of her was on full display, but he wasn’t hovering.

At the same time, she didn’t seem to like being told what to do but she muted her own objections. The shift in the dynamic made me wonder if we should expect more trouble when she was feeling better.

“Thank you, Bones,” she said, meeting my gaze briefly. The dark, sad eyes were framed by impossible lashes.

“You’re welcome.” It came gruffer than I intended. Voodoo shook his head at me and I fought the urge to glare. “You know what, you two eat and gear up. I’m going to make sure the car has gas and supplies. I’ll be back in an hour. Be ready to go.”

Not looking at either of them, I headed out. The last thing I needed to do was start a fight with Voodoo or take my temper out on the client.

She didn’t deserve it.

But Voodoo was on his own with the guys.

He made that bed, they could kick his ass out of it.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

GRACE

The ride away from the hotel proceeded in a tense silence. Voodoo didn’t hurry us out of the room after Bones left. If anything, he insisted I eat, drink the coffee, and then he checked my wound and the dressing before helping me to shower again.

This time around didn’t turn to sex. Probably better, considering Bones was already waiting. Still, Voodoo was infinitely gentle and patient, particularly with washing my hair. Bed head looked a lot like I’d stuck a fork in a light socket and it blew me up.

He toweled us both dry, then helped comb my hair. Afterward, we got dressed. Despite all the sleep I’d gotten, I was exhausted all over again. But I felt clean, a real first after the past several days. So many of them had bled one into another that I wasn’t even sure what day it was much less the date.

The sex and the showers seemed to give me my first real “distinction” in the monotony of the days. “Is it weird that the coffee tastes better?” Better than anything I’d had in a while.

There wasn’t much of it left, but I finished my cup while he repacked our bags. He’d also sacked up the bloodied towels and stuff.

“I don’t know,” Voodoo said with a shrug. “But if you like it that much, we’ll stop and grab you another cup.”

I stared down at the takeout cup for a beat.

“Problem?” Voodoo asked.

“Just thinking that I should probably not overdo it with the caffeine.” The diet I followed was a strict regimen. Too much caffeine could dehydrate me. That wasn’t good for my system or my skin. The chances of a photo shoot in the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours was slim and none. “But I also think I really want more coffee.”

He chuckled. “Then we’ll get you coffee.” The clothes I was wearing weren’t mine, but they fit a little better than the stuff I’d been in previously. My back was still sore, and so were my thighs and my pussy. But I preferred the sore between my legs versus my back.

“Thank you,” I said and he nodded before he grabbed both bags.

“You’re welcome, Firecracker. Let’s get going.”

Bones waited for us in a dark SUV. He was behind the wheel and said nothing while Voodoo tossed our stuff into the back. Rather than sit up front with Bones’ stony attitude, I climbed carefully into the back.

The seats were a lot more comfortable than our purloined car from the night before. A yawn cracked my jaw as I buckled in. “Thank you for the coffee and the food,” I said to Bones.

He turned his head as if glancing over his shoulder at me. The sunglasses hid his eyes from me, so maybe he was just checking the other side of the car.

Voodoo climbed into the passenger seat and dragged his seatbelt on. “We need to stop for more coffee. Firecracker liked what you picked up this morning. So let’s hit there.”

“You want more coffee?” Bones directed the question at me. The utter lack of inflection was unsettling. He’d been moreanimated when I woke up in the other house with him sitting in that chair.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said. “I am fine if you don’t want to go there.” Maybe he just wanted to get moving. The blood that had decorated his hands the night before was gone, but the bruises on the knuckles of his right hand were clear evidence that what I remembered had happened.

Instead of saying anything in response, he just drove. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a little strip mall that had a dry cleaners, a place that offered physical therapy, another that sold insurance, a donut shop, and an empty storefront.

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