Maybe Jonas’s relationship with Debby and Richard was as strained as Skylar’s had once been with her family. Love mixed with fear and disappointment and anger.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Her voice still sounded as raw and sore as her throat felt, and Debby patted her arm.
“I’ve got some of my homemade chicken noodle soup already at the apartment where you’ll be staying. You’ll have to have some of it tonight. It will do wonders for you.”
“You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. I love cooking. As a matter of fact, it’s my life’s work.”
“Debby has a catering business,” Jonas explained as he said goodbye to his dad and Debby, his hand on Skylar’s shoulder as they walked outside. Late afternoon sunlight streamed onto the sidewalk, splashing patterns and shadows onto the ground. The contrast made Skylar’s head spin, and she swayed, reaching out, grabbing Jonas’s arm.
“You okay?”
“Right as rain.” Except that her head was still spinning, her stomach churning.
“Then why do you look pale as paper?” He helped her into the passenger seat of a beat-up Chevy truck, reached across her lap to snap the seat belt into place.
“Maybe my sunburn is wearing off.”
He chuckled, the rough sound washing over her as she leaned back, closed her eyes. Quiet voices drifted into the truck, but she didn’t look to see who was speaking. Didn’t want to chance being overtaken by dizziness again. Passing out in front of the hospital would mean going right back where she didn’t want to be. Vulnerable. Alone. But she wasn’t alone. Jonas was with her—along with his family.And if danger followed her, she could be bringing it to his home. She shivered.
“Cold?” Jonas tucked something around her shoulders, his callused hands more familiar, more welcome than she wanted them to be.
“Worrying that I’m putting your family at risk. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”
“Neither do I. I told them they should keep their distance until we figure things out.”
“I hope their feelings weren’t hurt.”
“I’d rather have their feelings hurt than endanger their lives.”
“I feel the same. Which is why I know your feelings won’t be hurt when I tell you I want you to bring me to the closest Phoenix police station and drop me off.”
He didn’t respond, and she opened her eyes. “Well?”
“What?”
“I asked you to drop me off at the police station.”
“I would have responded, but I figured that either your fever is back and you’re delusional, or you didn’t hear me the half dozen times that I told you I’m sticking around until you are on your way back to New York.” He pulled onto a long stretch of highway, his jaw tight with irritation.
“I can’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Jonas—”
“Tell you what, we’ll work together, try to figure out what’s going on. If things get too hot, you’ll get on a plane and leave town, and I’ll go back to my life.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
“It’s going to have to.”
“You’re exasperating.”
“Thanks, I’ve always thought it went well with rude.”
The comment surprised a laugh out of her, and she gaveup the fight. Jonas wasn’t backing down and, truth be told, Skylar was glad. She’d been alone for six days. It felt good to have someone around.
Six days?
She’d been alone for fifteen years.
Unless she counted the two years she’d wasted dating Matthew. She preferred not to.
“You’re quiet.”
“My throat is protesting. I’m trying to give it a break.” It was a partial truth, and she was sure Jonas knew it.
He met her eyes, the contact brief, but so filled with questions Skylar turned away, stared out at the passing landscape. He already knew too much. Had already seen her vulnerable and scared and out of her head with fever. Seen more than anyone ever had.
“You have your prescription?”
She nodded, patting her pocket
Matthew Kinney, Lesa Anders