Page 43 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
My heart thumps in my chest as I lean in closer to clean his wound, the pounding in my rib cage carrying not an ounce of nerves. The dread I once felt is gone; another strange, unfamiliar sensation is now in its place.
I fear what I’ve gotten myself into.
Chapter 16
A full day passes without any sign that the sandstorm will subside. If anything, it only grows in its fury.
I remain focused on survival despite my wandering thoughts, the images of last night pulling my attention in every direction. Lowell seems unfazed, however, his ill-mannered attitude just as useless as his injured body.
His wound shows signs of healing, but I don’t get my hopes up. Although his temperature rises periodically and sweat pools into the grooves of his scales, he refuses to show that he’s affected by it.
While Lowell rests, I pass the hours sectioning off a small part of the tent with tarps to house and shield the sandcycle for repairs. Thankfully, the cycle was only a stone’s throw away from where we ended up. My dehydrated muscles provide just enough strength to drag it back to the tent with minimal straining.
Unfortunately, my skin isn’t spared a lashing from the whipping winds. Then again, a meager civilian-issued military jacket wasn’t ever made to be used in these harsh conditions. Parts of my neck and face are therefore brutalized with abrasions, the sandcycle goggles an unlikely blessing throughout an otherwise-painful excursion.
I try not to itch at the healing scrapes, especially now that my fingers are covered in motor oil.
“It’s next to the Apex Core Rod,” Lowell instructs, propping himselfon his elbows.
I stare blankly, the wrench limp in my hand.
He groans. “That blue circular thing to the left of the giant metal cylinder.”
“Ah!” I exclaim, grabbing the correct piece.
“Now remove it. We have to patch it,” he says, sucking his teeth with a wince when he shifts too quickly.
“This is actually kind of fun,” I say lightly. “I’ve never repaired a vehicle or anything with a motor before. It’s like a little puzzle.” Pulling on the wrench, the blue circular thing loosens from where it’s attached.
Lowell laughs, nonplussed. “Yeah, you would be the type to like puzzles.”
I frown. “Is that supposed to be an insult? Puzzles are stimulating and help keep my brain sharp and able to focus on difficult tasks. The brain is a muscle that needs to be worked out as well. Not just the vanity muscles.”
“So, what you’re saying is that I’m right.” He grins wide, looking me up and down. “Youarea loser.”
I purse my lips together, glaring. Mental stimulation is foreign to him, no doubt.
“Your glares mean nothing to me, but I appreciate that they provide a convenient means to gawk at your beautifully grumpy face,” he teases, mirroring my expression back to me.
Lowell’s eyelashes catch in the low light, illuminating his playful scowl. My heart flips in my chest. Although I know he’s joking, I can’t help the warmth that spreads over my cheeks.
“Your compliments are odd. I prefer it when you’re outright insulting me,” I grumble, dropping the metal piece to the ground.
“That I can do, sweetheart.” Lowell breathes heavily, wiping the back of his hand over his dampening forehead. He points a claw at the metal piece, finishing his instruction. “Now that it’s off, you can patch thatpiece of metal like I told you.”
I nod, keeping my gaze off his struggling. As much as I would normally enjoy watching, his pathetic groaning makes me feel a sliver of pity.
He got those injuries fromme, after all.
I need to keep him distracted from the pain,I think, coating the metal with a substance Lowell called “liquid bond.” It smells awful — like sewage.
“So, uh, you never told me about your family,” I say clearing my throat awkwardly.
Lowell’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, because I didn’t want to.”
“Well, why not?” I press. My eyes remain focused on the task, but I stay wary of him in my peripheral. I don’t need to see his face to know that his face is drawn with a glower.
“You’re awfully chatty. Shouldn’t you be focused on working?” he snaps.
