mind? Is he coming to haul me away?”
“Shut up,” Law muttered, grimacing. “No. He was supposed to come out, needed to talk a few things over with me, but something came up. He’s rescheduled.”
He reached up, rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hope, you’re not getting arrested. You can relax.”
“Relax.” She pressed a hand to her quivering, jumping belly.
How could she relax, when it felt like somebody was watching her every step?
Weighing her every move?
Just waiting …
Shivering, she pushed that thought aside and focused on Law’s battered face. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much this morning.”
“Nice, subtle subject change there, darlin’.” Law rolled his eyes.
Giving him a sharp-edged smile, she said, “Fine. Law,
darlin’
, I don’t want to talk about this, so let’s don’t. Now do you want something to eat or not?”
To her surprise, a wide grin lit his face. Then hewinced, pressed a hand to his mouth as the flesh of the healing cut on his lower lip split. “Shit, Hope. Don’t make me smile like that.”
When he lowered his hand, there was a smear of blood on it. He sighed and grabbed a tissue from the counter, pressed it to his mouth.
“You know, you’re acting awful bossy. You’ve been acting like this ever since the two of us left the hospital. Here I was, half-expecting you to take off running like a jackrabbit, but what you did was go and find an attitude. What’s the deal?”
She just shrugged.
She couldn’t begin to explain it. Something about being forced into that hospital—into
any
hospital.
Something about having people trying to force those drugs on her …
Something about these damned bandages on her wrists …
Looking down, she touched one of them, touched the wounds the bandages hid.
Then she looked up and met Law’s eyes.
There was a familiar look there, compassionate and understanding. He reached out and caught her hands, drawing her fingers away from the scars. “It’s going to be okay. You got out of that place before. Whatever this is, whatever put you back there, you’ll get out again. I’m right here and I’ll help you.”
Narrowing her eyes, she jerked her hands away.
The compassion she saw in his eyes, it pissed her off. Fury bubbled inside, hot and potent and deadly. It wanted
out
.
Something dark and frightening pushed at the edge of her memory. She couldn’t quite remember
what
had happened that night … she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. Seeing Prather, vague flickers of Law … he’d been in trouble—she knew that.
But she hadn’t done this. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name, as sure as she knew the color of her eyes, the color of her hair.
And she was so damned
tired
of having people think she’d done this.
Even Law … who had always trusted her, believed in her. Helped her.
Even Law.
He believed she was so damned weak that she’d slit her own wrists while he was lying there, hurting and helpless. Turning away, she started down the steps, uncertain of where she was going to go—she sure as hell wasn’t about to wander around, but she didn’t want to go inside the house, either.
The helpless anger, her frustration and rage bubbled inside her and then, before she realized it, she hit boiling point. Abruptly, she spun around and glared at Law.
“I didn’t
do
this.”
For long, long seconds, he stared at her … like he couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying.
Then, his voice slow and rough, he said, “What do you mean you didn’t do this?”
“Just that.” Storming up the stairs, all but shaking as unfamiliar fury swamped her. She knew
fear
. She knew
hesitation
. She knew
doubt
. She knew
anger
.
But this kind of fury? She didn’t know it, barely understood it, and she could hardly control it as it came bubbling out.
Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the bandages, tearing them away and letting them fall to the ground. The black sutures looked like an
“Shut up,” Law muttered, grimacing. “No. He was supposed to come out, needed to talk a few things over with me, but something came up. He’s rescheduled.”
He reached up, rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hope, you’re not getting arrested. You can relax.”
“Relax.” She pressed a hand to her quivering, jumping belly.
How could she relax, when it felt like somebody was watching her every step?
Weighing her every move?
Just waiting …
Shivering, she pushed that thought aside and focused on Law’s battered face. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much this morning.”
“Nice, subtle subject change there, darlin’.” Law rolled his eyes.
Giving him a sharp-edged smile, she said, “Fine. Law,
darlin’
, I don’t want to talk about this, so let’s don’t. Now do you want something to eat or not?”
To her surprise, a wide grin lit his face. Then hewinced, pressed a hand to his mouth as the flesh of the healing cut on his lower lip split. “Shit, Hope. Don’t make me smile like that.”
When he lowered his hand, there was a smear of blood on it. He sighed and grabbed a tissue from the counter, pressed it to his mouth.
“You know, you’re acting awful bossy. You’ve been acting like this ever since the two of us left the hospital. Here I was, half-expecting you to take off running like a jackrabbit, but what you did was go and find an attitude. What’s the deal?”
She just shrugged.
She couldn’t begin to explain it. Something about being forced into that hospital—into
any
hospital.
Something about having people trying to force those drugs on her …
Something about these damned bandages on her wrists …
Looking down, she touched one of them, touched the wounds the bandages hid.
Then she looked up and met Law’s eyes.
There was a familiar look there, compassionate and understanding. He reached out and caught her hands, drawing her fingers away from the scars. “It’s going to be okay. You got out of that place before. Whatever this is, whatever put you back there, you’ll get out again. I’m right here and I’ll help you.”
Narrowing her eyes, she jerked her hands away.
The compassion she saw in his eyes, it pissed her off. Fury bubbled inside, hot and potent and deadly. It wanted
out
.
Something dark and frightening pushed at the edge of her memory. She couldn’t quite remember
what
had happened that night … she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. Seeing Prather, vague flickers of Law … he’d been in trouble—she knew that.
But she hadn’t done this. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name, as sure as she knew the color of her eyes, the color of her hair.
And she was so damned
tired
of having people think she’d done this.
Even Law … who had always trusted her, believed in her. Helped her.
Even Law.
He believed she was so damned weak that she’d slit her own wrists while he was lying there, hurting and helpless. Turning away, she started down the steps, uncertain of where she was going to go—she sure as hell wasn’t about to wander around, but she didn’t want to go inside the house, either.
The helpless anger, her frustration and rage bubbled inside her and then, before she realized it, she hit boiling point. Abruptly, she spun around and glared at Law.
“I didn’t
do
this.”
For long, long seconds, he stared at her … like he couldn’t quite comprehend what she was saying.
Then, his voice slow and rough, he said, “What do you mean you didn’t do this?”
“Just that.” Storming up the stairs, all but shaking as unfamiliar fury swamped her. She knew
fear
. She knew
hesitation
. She knew
doubt
. She knew
anger
.
But this kind of fury? She didn’t know it, barely understood it, and she could hardly control it as it came bubbling out.
Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the bandages, tearing them away and letting them fall to the ground. The black sutures looked like an
Similar Books
