Britta was propped up in bed, a marked improvement after only two days awake, while I finished brushing out the tangles in her hair. Her amputated limb was freshly bandaged and held up in a sling that EJ had fashioned from the ceiling, and her pain was being managed by both the meds dripping slowly through her IV, and the cup of hot tea at her bedside, made from willow bark and calamus root.
“That’s what she said.” Pulling the chair over near the bed, I sat down with a sigh. I was bone tired and yet unable to sleep more than a few minutes at a time, always waking with my heart hammering frantically against my ribs, hoping that this time would be the time I’d awake to find Logan had returned only to realize over and over again that I was still alone.
Britta chuckled. “That’s a match made in hell, if I ever heard one. You wanna put bets on who kills who?”
“No way,” I muttered. “We both know if anyone’s killing anyone—it’s going to be Ella killing Jordy. Apparently, he likes tocuddle.”
“Ya never know,” Britta mused. “Could be that cuddly kangaroo has a dark side we don’t know about. Wouldn’t put it past our little Hella-Ella to make a good man go bad. ”
When I didn’t respond, Britta’s hand appeared over the bed railing, her fingers wiggling. “Did I lose ya again, sugar—you awake over there?”
Straightening in my seat, I met Britta’s drugged gaze over the top of the railing and tried to smile.
“Nah—hell no. Mm-mm. Now, I may be higher than a giraffe’s ass right now, but I can still spot insincerity a mile away. Don’t be pullin’ happy faces for my benefit. You wanna cry, sugar, you go ahead and cry.”
My smile slipping, I gripped my hands in my lap, twisting them. “I don’t want to cry,” I bit out softly. “I’m sick of crying. I’m sick of feeling sick. I just… I just…need to know what happened.”
“I know that feeling—Lord knows I do.” Fumbling through the bedrail, Britta grasped my clasped hands. “Not knowin’ is the worst feelin’ in this whole…cursedworld.” Britta’s voice broke and her hand disappeared from mine.
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” The soft slap of Doc’s voice across the floor broke up the palpable silence that settled over the room. “That’s enough of that. Now, I know things might seem bleak, but that doesn’t mean we have to dwell on them. Britta—you need your rest more than anything right now. Willow—honey, you need a happy distraction. How about you come with me for the day—I’ve got some foraging to do—I’m out of astragalus and sambucus and a whole host of other things. Britta—if you need anything, Joe’s right outside the door.”
“He got his gun on him?” Britta sniffled.
“Got it right here!” Joe called from the other room.
“Yeah? Which one you got today?” Quirking half a smile, Britta sent me a teary-eyed wink. “The big one?”
There was a pause before Joe appeared in the doorway, lips twisted into a devilish smile. Reaching overhead, he gripped the top of the doorframe, causing the muscles in his arms to noticeably swell. “You wanna see it?” he drawled.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Doc said, whisking me out of the chair and shooing me toward the door. “That is definitely enough ofthat. Joe, you and your gun better get back in your seat—Britta needs her rest!”
