Something softened in her eyes. When she tried for a cheeky grin, it came out a little wobbly. “So what you’re saying is we’re even?”
“What I’m saying is, between you and me, there’s no reason to keep score.”
Her eyes suddenly looked overly bright. “I’ve missed you, Sam.”
“And who’s fault is that?” He pasted on a stern expression. “I don’t recall sendingyoua goodbye text six months ago.”
“No.” She shook her head and her damp hair brushed across her milky-white shoulders. “I don’t just mean recently. I mean all along. Ever since you left Englewood. I’vemissedyou.”
He wanted to pull her into a hug. But given she wasn’t wearing any clothes, and given the eagerness of his Johnson, he thought it better just to keep his grubby hands to himself.
“I’ve missed you too, kiddo. You’re the only one who gets my movie references. Apparently, the Coen brothers aren’t as universally beloved as we always thought.”
“No accounting for taste, I guess.” She shook her head sorrowfully and then quoted fromO Brother, Where Art Thou. “It’s a fool who looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.”
He chuckled. “Ulysses Everett McGill. One of the greatest characters every written.”
“The paterfamilias.”
“Long may he live in cinematic infamy.”
There they stood in the still steamy bathroom, grinning at each other like a couple of dopes, lost in their own little world. The world they’d created sixteen years earlier when they’d been young and naive and green to all the happiness and heartbreak life had to offer.
She was the one to drag them back to the present. “First aid kit?”
“Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Right away.”
He fished around under his sink through the supplies Eliza kept stocked until he located the square, plastic container. It’d been in the back corner, hidden under a pack of Charmin.
After gesturing for her to take a seat on the toilet lid, he knelt in front of her and opened the case. “Lemme see it.” He patted his leg and tried not to notice how the towel climbed above her knees when she placed her foot on his thigh.
He wasn’t a foot person. But he could appreciate how pretty Hannah’s were. Thin and white, with delicate arches and the sparkly blue nail polish that caught the overhead light and glinted.
With as much care as possible, he applied ointment to the wound on her toe and then closed it with two butterfly bandages. He topped the butterfly bandages with a Band-Aid to cushion the cut and provide an extra layer of protection.
Even still, he warned her, “Shoes are probably gonna be a problem for a while.”
“Good thing I don’t have any with me.” She made a face.
“Those goddamn feds. What were they thinking dragging you out barefoot in this weather?”
“I think they were thinking they’d bagged themselves a bona fide traitor.”
“Which brings us full circle.” He stood, realized he could see down the top of her towel, and hastily averted his eyes. “Get dressed and come down to the second floor. Everyone’s eager to hear just how much trouble you’re in, and how much troublewe’rein by association.”
“It’s not good,” she warned. “And I’m sorry I dragged you all into this. But I didn’t know where else to—”
“Don’t apologize. I’ve been in the middle of messes a whole helluva lot bigger than whatever this is.”
“Maybe.” A dark cloud moved over her face. “But you only know the half of it.”
“Ain’t that usually the way?” He gave a resigned shake of his head. “When the shit hits the fan, it tends to come from left, right, and center.”
She swallowed noisily while nodding her agreement.
Deciding that was his cue, he escaped the bathroom and his bedroom, but ran into Fisher in the hallway. The man had two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand.
“Eliza sent me up with these,” he said.
