parking lot’s security lights. Her hair stuck straight up everywhere. Curling from yesterday’s rain. Cute. He hadn’t realized she had such curly hair. It had usually been straight when he saw her.
He felt like he’d found out one of her biggest secrets.
She had a small burn of road rash on that side of her face as well. He’d had Nikkie Jean pack all the medications he could possibly need to take care of her. There was antibiotic cream, pain pills, antibiotics, and refills of her asthma medications. Nikkie Jean had insisted he carry an epinephrine pen, too. She had given him the warning that her little buddy had multiple food and drug allergies, and he wasn’t ever to feed her anything that didn’t come with a food label or that he didn’t cook himself from safe ingredients.
He waited until his watch chirped seven thirty before shaking her awake.
She rolled on her back and hummed. She was still fully dressed, but the sweatshirt was tight beneath her.
Allen forced himself to get back on track—and not waste time ogling his companion. No sense in confirming her already low opinion of him. Not yet.
Allen had had a well-deserved reputation as a player long before Jess.
He hated that Izzie was judging him by those same standards now, though. He wanted to be a man she respected, corny as it sounded even to him. “Hey, Izzie, you need to wake up.”
Brown eyes popped open. Confusion covered her face, then the memories slid in. “It’s morning, and this is real. Ouch.”
“It wasn’t a dream. No. On a one-to-ten scale—how big is the ouch?”
“We’re still here. Eleven thirteen, on the ouch. With a factor of ten.”
“Yes.”
“Damn it. I need to call Jake.”
No. Absolutely not. If she had been targeted because of her uncle—and that made the most sense—calling her uncle might be a one-way ticket to them being tracked. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Excuse me?”
“If they are after Jake, there’s a chance they’ll be able to trace you through his phone. Something to consider.”
“This isn’t a spy novel. It’s real life.”
“Yes, and real life can be pretty shitty. Dangerous. I think we both know that.” He shifted so she could climb off the mattress. He watched how she moved, cataloging what she wasn’t telling him.
She was hurting. She could move, probably quickly if it was required. It would just hurt like hell to do it.
She looked like she’d gone four rounds with a heavyweight champ, though. “How are you feeling?”
“Like the concrete and I had a really bad first date. But…I’ll live. All good. The cast is mostly dry, at least. How long am I in this one?” She held up the air splint, almost like a barrier between them.
“A week or so. You need to wear the sling on the cast, though. Above heart level.” He frowned. A woman in two casts with bruises everywhere was going to stand out. They were going to have to keep her hidden for a while. “You do have a concussion, but Rafe and Nikkie Jean believe it’s a mild one, at least. Should fade to a mild headache by tomorrow morning, I’d say.”
“My head hurts, but not as much as the arm. I was most likely out of it thanks to the sedative. That stuff always knocks me for a real loop. Sorry about that. I’m sure I wasn’t much help as a drooling mass of potato with legs.”
“You didn’t need to be. I had things under control. You have people who were doing the best possible things they could to make sure you stay safe.”
She stared at him for a long moment, dressed in his old sweatshirt he’d always kept in his trunk for when he needed it and pale-pink scrubs that were borrowed from Rafe’s wife’s locker. “Well, what do we do now?”
“Easy. We survive.”
“I didn’t realize you were this melodramatic.”
Allen smiled at her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Izadora the First. Now’s your chance to find out what.”
59
Jennifer liked to hold his hand, but only when Reggie slept. He wouldn’t tolerate it otherwise. Not her big, strong, masculine son. She’d loved to hold his hand when he’d been a boy. He was a dream child. He always had been.
Jennifer should have seen through Dennis Lee. Should have known how corrupted that sonofabitch was.
Hell, Jennifer had. She’d known and enjoyed it. She never would have expected him to turn on her like he had. To take her Reggie, her son, from her like this.