Chapter 20: Rhett's POV: The Trap

Rhett's POV

I put her in the tub with a bag of frozen peas on her ankle.

I picked the gravel out of her hands with tweezers.

She let me.

That was how I knew how badly she was hurt.

"Someone cut that brake line in Pia's yard," I said. "The dog knew him."

"I was there, Rhett."

"Then you know it's one of mine."

"I know," Rhona said. "Tonight I'm not letting you hunt him."

"Tonight I'll set a trap instead."

"Fine. Pull the stone first."

"You're doing it wrong," Rhona said.

"Hold still."

"You're digging."

"There's a stone in your palm the size of a lentil."

"It's been there ten minutes. It's my stone."

I pulled it out and showed it to her.

She looked at it, and at the scar across the base of the same hand, and her face changed.

"I'm not going to say it," I said.

"Say what?"

"That I keep finding you bleeding from something I did."

"Then don't."

"I'm not."

She put her wet fingers against my jaw.

I had a head wound under a butterfly bandage and a cracked rib that grabbed me each time I breathed.

None of it mattered.

I knelt on the tile with water soaking my knees and wanted her so badly I couldn't hold the tweezers.

She watched me not move.

"You can say it, Rhett," she said softly. "You don't have to hide it from me."

"I'm trying to be decent."

"You've been decent for two weeks. It's exhausting to watch."

I laughed, and my rib stabbed me, and she saw it.

"Help me up," she said.

I lifted her out of the water in a towel.

I carried her to the bedroom and set her on the edge of the bed.

For a minute I only stood there with her wet hair dripping on my shirt.

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