“You’re limping.”
“No, I’m not!” she said.
He stared at her for a long, thoughtful moment. “I should change your bandages.”
“No need. At least the first aid kit was easy to find. I put new ones on after my shower.” A sudden thought struck her, and her hostility vanished temporarily. “How are your stitches? I forgot all about them. Did you . . . I mean, did you . . .” Words failed her.
“You mean did I pop any stitches while we were fucking? I bled a little bit, but it was worth it.”
She felt her face flood with heat. “You are such a sleaze!” she snapped. “And you’re trying to distract me. I should check your stitches.”
“Tell you what. I’ll let you look at my stitches when you tell me why you’re limping. I need to look at your leg.”
“After I take Merlin out . . .” She let out a little whoop as he picked her up and deposited her on the narrow bunk, moving so fast she had no warning. She tried to squirm away but he put a hand in the middle of her chest, holding her still.
“Keep fighting me and I’ll put my hand on your tits to hold you still,” he growled.
She froze. “You’re crass.”
His smile was seraphic. “Yes, I am,” he agreed, releasing her to turn and examine her legs. She knew what the right one looked like, and she’d worn long pants to hide it, but all her pants were loose, and he had no trouble pushing up the cuff to her knee, exposing the swelling purple bruise.
He sat back, for a moment all artifice disappearing, and looked shocked. “How did that happen?”
For some stupid, stupid reason she didn’t want to tell him, to throw it in his face. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled, turning her face away.
But his hand caught her chin and drew it back, so she couldn’t avoid his gaze unless she closed her eyes, and she wasn’t that big a chicken. “Did I do this when I kicked you?”
Everything had shut down with him again, his face unreadable, but for some reason she still wanted to protect him. “It was a fluke. You didn’t mean to kick me that hard, and you just happened to hit me at the wrong place and . . .”
“I meant to kick you that hard.” There was a strange note of bitterness in his voice.
“Well, it worked.” What else could she say? “It’ll heal.”
“It’s a problem. You never know when you might have to make a run for it. This makes you a liability.”
So much for tender regret, she thought, wondering why she felt crushed. “Then just put a bullet in my brain and leave me behind. That way I can’t tattle on you.”
He shrugged dispassionately. “That’s protocol.”
“Is it? Then why didn’t you just kill me at the church and have done with it? Why go through an elaborate charade . . .”
He’d been examining the bruise, pressing against it, but at this he turned away. “It’s not broken,” he said, ignoring her question. “If you look hard enough, you’ll probably find ice. Put it on the bruise, keep your leg elevated, and it should be fine eventually. We’ll just have to hope we don’t run into any problems.”
It was a waste of time to glare at him—he wouldn’t even notice. She sat up and gave a long-suffering sigh. “All right. After I take Merlin out.”
“Merlin doesn’t need to go out. He can hold his bladder for hours. Find something to entertain yourself with while I drive.”
He started toward the driver’s seat, and she slid off the bunk, starting after him. “Look, just let me get some fresh air.” She hated the pleading sound in her voice.
She found herself talking to his back. He was ignoring her, of course, about to move between the two front seats to take his place behind the wheel, when she made the dire mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder.
He turned, in no particular hurry. “You can open a window,” he said callously. “Go ahead and play with the computer if you’re bored. You won’t find anything interesting.”
“The Internet is full of interesting things if you know how to look,” she said, which was patently stupid. She wanted access to that computer again. She had barely begun her research.
“Fine with me, Angel. Do your worst.” He reached over her and pushed one of the buttons over the door. She heard the locks click in, place, and she had no illusions that she’d have any way of getting out of this tin box without Bishop’s permission.
She glared up at him as he started past her, into the cockpit of the RV, when he paused. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said in a flat voice.