I’m sorry, Charles. He’d been with her father for over twenty years. To die like that...
She swallowed. More ash.
The truck braked. She followed Logan, feeling like a robot. Only, her steps were slow, wooden. He tossed a wad of cash at the desk clerk and ordered the kid to forget that he ever saw them. Then they pushed inside the last room, the one located at the edge of the parking lot.
A ceiling fan fluttered overhead when Logan flipped the light switch. Juliana’s gaze swept around the small room. A sagging bed. One bed. A scarred desk. A lumpy chair. The place had pay-by-the-hour written all over it.
“You’re bleeding.”
Juliana glanced over at the sound of Logan’s voice. She saw that his stare was focused on her forehead. Lifting her hand, she touched the drying blood. She’d forgotten about that. “It’s just a scratch.”
Her dress was torn, slitting up a bit at the knee. And said knee felt as if it had slammed into a tree—because it had.
“You’re too calm.”
What? Was she supposed to be screaming? Breaking down? She wasn’t exactly the breaking-down type. Right then, all she could think was...
What’s next?
And how would she handle it?
“Shock.” He took her hand and led her to the matchbox bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She wrenched away from him as anger began to finally boil past the numbness holding her in check. “I’m not a child, Logan.”
He blinked his sky-blue eyes at her. The brightest blue she’d ever seen. Those eyes could burn hot or flash ice-cold. Right then, they held no emotion at all. “I never said you were.”
“I can clean myself up.” She took slow, measured steps to the bathroom. Took slow, deep breaths—so she wouldn’t scream at him. “Stop acting like I’m about to fall apart.”
“Someone just tried to kill you. A little falling apart is expected.”
Near the chipped bathroom door, Juliana paused and looked back at him. “Why do the expected?”
He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. Maybe he hadn’t. “Your father’s gone.” Now there was anger punching through his words. “Your car just exploded into a million pieces all over a graveyard. Want to tell me why you’re so cool?”
Because if she let the wall inside of herself down, even for a second, Juliana was very afraid that she might start crying and not stop. “Wanna tell me why you’re with me now?”
“Because you need someone to keep you alive!” Then he was charging across the room and catching her shoulders in a strong grip. “Or do you not even care about the little matter of living anymore?”
She stared up at him. Just stared. She was finding that being so close to Logan hurt. Over him? Not hardly. Once upon a time, she’d been ready to run away with the jerk.
She’d waited for him in a bus station—waited f
ive hours.
He’d never shown. Too late, she’d learned that he’d left her behind.
Could she really count on him to keep sticking around now? He’d saved her butt in Mexico. Hell, yes, she was grateful, but Logan wasn’t the kind to stay forever. Juliana wasn’t going to depend on him again. “Call the cops,” she told him, weary beyond belief all of a sudden. Her body just wanted to sag, and she wanted to sleep. An adrenaline burst fading? Or just the crash she’d been fighting for days? Either way, the result was the same. “They can keep me safe.”
Juliana opened the door and entered the closet that passed for a bathroom.
“Juliana—”
Then she closed the door in his face. She looked in the mirror. Saw the too-pale face, wide eyes and the blood that covered her forehead.
She took another breath. Ash. How long would it be until she forgot that taste?
Her eyes squeezed shut. She could still feel the lance of fire on her skin. If Logan hadn’t been there, she would’ve been in that car.