“Tomorrow.”
I glanced at him and met his troubled gaze. I reached out and clasped his hand. He let me, twining his fingers through mine.
When we reached the bike, we both stared at each other. The gore on him was too much to possibly be real. Ugh! I’d kissed that.
He studied me just as intently. Untangling his fingers from mine, he reached up to brush a hand gentled along my cheek. “You’re pale,” he commented. “And you’re still bleeding. We need to get that looked at.”
I didn’t move. “Or you could just take us to a hotel, I could clean up and you could help me with some gauze and tape.” He looked like he was about to argue so I added, “We can’t afford the questions a hospital would ask.”
He reluctantly nodded and moved toward the bike.
“We can’t ride around with you looking like that,” I said, stopping him.
“What do you suggest?”
I pointed to the nearby marsh, which had a thin layer of ice over the water it offered.
His lips twitched. “You’re liking this, aren’t you.”
“I’ll get Tinker Bell ready. And you better hurry. Who knows what’s still headed in this direction.”
He snorted, but got back off the bike and pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles in his back rippled as he tossed the shirt aside. I fought not to sigh. I was liking this. Far too much.
Chapter Twelve
Fortunately, Tinker Bell was unnecessary. He had most of our clean laundry—including a pair of pants for himself—in his saddlebags.
He washed while I stood shivering on the gravel shoulder. I pretended the shivers were a reaction to his muscled back flexing each time he bent to rinse away more blood. In reality, exhaustion had claimed its due. The sprint through the trees, the fight, and the blood loss took their toll. Dreams whispered to me, and the insistency of them depressed me. What more could I possibly learn other than more pain and death? And sadly, I didn’t have the strength to wrestle Luke down and Claim him, like I’d threatened to, to stop them.
Standing in the cold facing the inevitable, I just wanted to get on the bike, wrap my arms around his waist, and let them have me. I knew he wouldn’t like me sleeping while we drove, but I didn’t want to delay getting to the Compound by stopping at one more hotel and falling asleep there. It just increased the chances of another run-in with the others.
He doused his hair one more time and turned toward me as he shook the water from it. Sunlight glinted off the droplets that flew. Rivulets ran down his chest. Steam rolled off him. When he turned still dripping water, his eyes roamed over my face for a moment. Concern crept into his eyes as his gaze flicked to the arm I held to my middle. I didn’t try to straighten or pull it away. The cut hurt. I couldn’t hide that. But it wouldn’t stop my determination to push on.
“If we drive straight through, how long ‘til we get there?”
“If nothing happens? Ten to twelve hours depending on the roads we take.”
“We need to push through. I can’t take another run in,” I said. He opened his mouth to argue. “No, Luke,” I sighed before he spoke. “I can’t. I’m done. Do you get it? Just, done.” I hurt too much physically, and I had the depressing knowledge that I would hurt more in the near future due to the dreams. I lacked the optimism to fool myself into believing we’d make it through what waited.
He strode over to me with an intense light in his eyes. Both hands gripped my arms lightly. He gave them a gentle squeeze and then pulled me to his chest, hugging me close despite the arm still wrapped protectively around my stomach. His lips grazed my hair, and he laid his cheek on top my head.
“Don’t give up,” he whispered. “Not now.”
He held me for a moment. I soaked up the comfort and the heat he radiated. I really wanted everything to be okay. I just knew we were in too deep for it to be that way.
“We need to get moving,” I said. “Every minute we stay in one place, the more likely they are to find us again.”
He pulled back and lifted my chin so my eyes met his. We studied each other for several minutes. His eyes expressed more than his words because his worry and fear shone there. “We’ll get there,” he promised.
He wanted my acknowledgement, but I wouldn’t lie. Instead, my gaze drifted down to his lips. The memory of his kiss started my heart thumping in a heavy rhythm. I didn’t want to think about the Compound, the journey there, or the men who’d be waiting to attack us. I wanted to lose myself in the way he made me feel just one more time.
My other arm took on a life of its own and drifted from my side to his back. The heat of his skin warmed my cold fingers as I traced the ridges on his muscles.