Of course, he would assume personal responsibility. The burden he shouldered was so misplaced and undeserved. “You didn’t do this, dammit.” She returned the pressure of the towel to her head and gnashed her teeth against the burn.
They stared at one another through the swelling tension. What was going on behind those stony eyes? He’d told her for three years he didn’t blame her for Noah’s death, but she knew it was eating at him. How could he even look at her?
“I need to check in with the team.” He twisted to kneel against the back of the couch and parted the curtain behind her. A flood of daylight spilled in from the window that overlooked the rear alley.
“This is Nathan,” he said slow and crisp in the wireless headset. “There’s a stiff in the rear alley.” He moved to the window facing the side lot. “And there’s a crowd around our vehicle. Colson’s not going to be able to contain them.”
In the kitchen, Jay shoved his hands through his hair, the muscles in his biceps twitching. He’d risked his life to save hers, and he didn’t do it out of debt. The thought sent sticky tendrils of attachment wrapping around her. For once, they were coming from her. It was careless and selfish, but she didn’t want to fight it. And if he stuck around through gunshots and getaways, maybe he was more than just crazy. Maybe he was attached, too. She wouldn’t take that for granted.
The faint and undeniable blare of sirens pierced through the walls.
Jay shifted, found her eyes. Hair disheveled, strong shoulders lolling forward, eyes wide and glued on her, he wore an intense look on his face. The way he just stood there, not moving toward her, pulsing waves of emotion around him prompted her to rise from the couch. The distance suddenly felt wrong, discomfiting.
A flash of heat shot through her ear from pressing too hard. She lowered the towel to check for bleeding.
That broke through his stupor. He raced to her side and swung her into the cradle of his arms. “Jesus, Charlee. I’m sorry. I needed to work out a plan with Tony, amongst other things.” He hugged her face to his neck and, in a few strides, had her in the bathroom and sitting on the counter, back to the mirror.
His breathing was wild, and a measure of him flinched at the sight of her injuries, something only present in the twitch of his scowl. Still, watchful caution remained in his eyes.
“They’re just graze wounds.” She raised the towel to cover it.
“Don’t. I haven’t had a chance to look at them.” He wrapped firm but gentle fingers around her hand on the towel and lowered it. “Fuck, you need a doctor.”
“It’s fine. My eardrum isn’t ringing so bad and—”
“A fucking bullet cut through your ear.” He flew backward and slammed against the wall behind him as if to keep her distanced from his anger. He swiped a hand over his face, sucking in air and staring at her out of feral eyes. “Fuck, fuck.” He punched a fist backward and dented the sheetrock. “Fuck, I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve been there.”
“You were there. Calm the hell down. You’re not helping.”
More punching. More dents.
What was wrong with him? He seemed fine in the kitchen. Did she look that bad? She turned toward the mirror.
37
A small gouge separated the cartilage high on Charlee’s earlobe. Following the path of the bullet, a strip of skin the length of her thumb was flayed behind her ear at the hairline. It could’ve been worse. She’d survived worse. Although she wouldn’t be wearing earrings for a while, what bothered her was Jay’s reaction. Why was he punching the wall?
The bathroom wall propped up his back. His ready fists curled at his thighs, his head bowed, and his eyes were raised and clinging to hers.
Tanned skin smoothed his face, giving him a calm expression, but there was a restlessness in the way his eyes shifted between hers. She recognized that look from that morning, and it twisted her gut. “You’re high.”
Her words hung there between them until movement drew their attention outside the bathroom. Nathan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jay.
Jay pushed off the wall and formed the other half of the deadlock with an identical stance. They bandied hostile looks, flexing their jaws and issuing so much testosterone the small room choked with it.
She sighed. “Nathan.”
The only thing Nathan moved was his lips. “He’s high.”
Protective till the end. “He’s harmless. Is there a plan? We need to leave, right?”
Nathan glanced at the dents in the wall. “Backup’s here. So are the cops.” He met her eyes.
“And we can’t trust them,” she said, softly, miserably.
Jay swung his head toward her. “Why not?”
“They’re probably on Roy’s payroll.” She chewed a fingernail. “The officers outside are probably here to ensure this ends according to Roy’s directive.”