Sighing, I got up and headed for a closed door off the living room.
“What’re you doin’?” James demanded, suspicion lacing his voice.
Turned out he could read me pretty well now too.
“I’m finding the bedroom so I can wash the sheets. If there’s a washer and dryer, that is.”
I pushed the door open and found a full-size bed with a beat-up wooden headboard and a stained, bare mattress—one stain dark enough that it looked like blood. And large enough to suggest the wound may have been fatal.
“Where did Carter find this place again?” I called out to the living room.
“It’s one of mine.”
“You own this dump?” I laughed. If there was a set of sheets in this place, I had no idea where to find them. And if I did, I’d probably have to burn them.
“It’s a safe house. It’s not meant to be comfortable.”
“At this point, I’d settle for halfway clean.”
When I walked back into the living room, he was leaning his head back on the sofa, his eyes drifting closed. Guilt washed through me. He hadn’t said it outright, but I knew he felt responsible for us being on the run, not only because of his concussion, but because he was James Malcolm, and Gerald Knox already had it out for him.
I felt guilty that investigating my mother’s murder had gotten us into this, but I felt even more guilty that I was grateful he was in this mess with me.
“I’m sorry for complaining,” I said, dropping onto the edge of the recliner again.
His eyes cracked open. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You’re right. The place is a pigsty.”
“I’m going out to get a set of fresh bedding and some cleaning supplies.”
He jerked upright, his eyes flying open. “The hell you are.”
“No one followed us here, James. I made sure of it.”
“You’re not goin’ out alone. I’ll call Carter and have him send someone.”
“The more you involve Carter, the more dangerous it is for all of us.” Carter was in hiding somewhere on his own, because he was also at risk.
He started to protest, then stopped.
We’d left the last safe house because Knox’s men had found it in the middle of the night. We’d barely gotten away, sneaking out the back door and driving off without our headlights on. So I understood why James was paranoid. It was now mid-afternoon, and we’d parked in multiple places covering half the state and hadn’t seen any signs of them.
“I have a hat,” I said. “I’ll avoid cameras. Maybe I’ll curl my hair and put on makeup.” I gave him a dark smile. “You know, a disguise.”
He leaned forward, then cupped my cheek. “You’re beautiful just the way you are, Harper.”
I remained still, but inside I was squirming. I wasn’t used to compliments, especially from men like James. I knew I wasn’t beautiful, and I’d never had a problem with it before. But with him…
Part of me wished I were.
“I’ll come with you.” He started to rise.
I gently pushed him back down, then straddled his legs before he could argue again. I cupped his cheek, forcing him to meet my eyes. The bruise around his right eye had faded to a sickly yellow-green.
“You need to rest,” I said quietly. “We just spent twelve hours in a car or in restaurants.”
“I’m capable of ridin’ in a car.”
“You just rode in a car in bright sunlight.”
