The bedroom is dim. I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling. Through the thin walls, I hear him pacing. The creak of floorboards as he checks the windows again.
He's not resting. He's standing guard.
Or maybe he's just staying as far from this room as he can.
Four more days until the trial. Four more days of this.
I close my eyes.
When sleep finally comes, I dream of kitchens and counters and the question he asked before the car.
What do you want, Eden?
I wanted him to mean it.
Chapter Seven
Diesel
Itake my showers cold now.
Not by choice. Orcs run hot—always have. I need the water scalding just to feel it. But there's only one water heater in this cottage, and she likes her showers long.
So I wait until she's done. Use what's left. Tell myself the cold is good for discipline.
This morning, it's barely lukewarm. I stand under the weak spray and let it run over my shoulders, my chest, the scars I've been collecting for fifteen years. The cold helps. Clears my head. Keeps me from thinking about her on the other side of that wall, wet skin and steam and—
I shut off the water.
Jeans on. Didn't think to grab a clean shirt before I got in—I'll get one from the bedroom after.
When I open the bathroom door, she's not in the kitchen.
She's standing at the hallway mirror, shoulder twisted awkwardly, fingers fumbling with the edge of her bandage. Trying to see what she's doing. Failing.
She catches my reflection and freezes.
I'm in jeans and nothing else. Still dripping. Water runs down my chest, catches in the ridges of old scars, pools at my waistband.
Her eyes travel down. Over the raised lines across my chest. The puckered burn on my shoulder. The hard planes of my stomach, the trail of dark hair disappearing into denim. Then back up. Her throat moves.
"I was just—" She gestures at her shoulder. "The tape's peeling."
"Sit down."
"I can almost reach it—"
"Almost isn't done. Sit down."
She sits in the kitchen chair, facing away from me. I grab the med kit from under the sink and pull up a chair behind her.
"You could put on a shirt," she says. Her voice sounds strange.
"Clothes are in the bedroom."
"Which is six feet away."
"And you're right here." I peel back the old bandage. "Hold still."
