Rainshadow Road (Friday Harbor #2)(41)

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said with a sniffle. “I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Shut. Up.” Justine reached for a fresh tissue and clamped it to Lucy’s nose as if she was a child. “Friends are the support bras of life. We don’t let each other down. Right?”

Lucy nodded.

Justine stood and smiled at her. “I’ll be in the waiting room, making a few calls. Don’t go anywhere.”

* * *

From the moment Sam had gotten Justine’s call, he’d been seized with grim anxiety. “I’ll be there” was all he’d said, and within fifteen minutes, he had reached the clinic.

Entering the building with ground-eating strides, he found Justine in the waiting room.

“Sam,” she said, a ghost of a smile crossing her face. “Thanks for coming here. It’s a hell of a situation.”

“How’s Lucy?” he asked curtly.

“A mild concussion, scrapes and cuts, and her leg is totally messed up. Strained ligaments and a fracture.”

“Damn it,” he said softly. “How did it happen?”

Justine explained in a flurry of words, while he listened without comment. “… so she can’t move at all for a few days,” she finished. “And even though Lucy doesn’t weigh much, Zoë and I can’t carry her around.”

“I’ll help,” Sam said at once.

Justine let out a deep sigh. “Thank God. I adore you. I knew you’d have enough room at your house, and Zoë and I have the wedding from hell at the inn this weekend. We won’t have one spare second, and there’s just no way we could—”

“Wait,” Sam interrupted brusquely. “I can’t take Lucy to my house.”

Justine clamped her hands on her h*ps and gave him an exasperated glance. “You just said you’d help.”

“Yes, help. She can’t stay with me.”

“Why not?”

The strength of his objection had left Sam temporarily mute. He had never let a woman spend the night at his place. And he especially didn’t want Lucy in his house. Especially not wounded and needing him. He had gone tense all over, a mist of sweat covering his skin.

“Why can’t someone else do it?” he asked tersely. “What about her parents?”

“They live in Pasadena.”

“Doesn’t she have other friends?”

“Yes, but not on the island. With the exception of Zoë and me, she lost the friends she made with Kevin. They didn’t want to piss him off by taking her side.” With exaggerated patience, Justine asked, “What exactly is the problem, Sam?”

“I barely know her,” he protested.

“You like her. You rushed right over here when I called.”

“I don’t know Lucy well enough to help her in and out of bed, carry her to the shower, change the bandages, all that stuff.”

“What, you’re all prudish now? Come off it, Sam. You’ve been with a lot of women. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s not that.” Sam paced across the empty waiting room, raking a hand through his hair. How could he explain the profound danger of intimacy with Lucy? That the problem was how much he actually wanted to take care of her? He didn’t trust himself with her. He would end up ha**ng s*x with her, taking advantage of her, hurting her.

He stopped pacing and glowered at Justine. “Look,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to get close to her. I don’t want her to depend on me.”

Justine gave him a narrow-eyed glance that should have slayed him on the spot. “Are you really that screwed up, Sam?”

“Of course I am,” he snapped. “Have I ever pretended to be normal?”

Justine made a sound of disgust. “You know what? I’m sorry I asked. My mistake.”

Sam scowled as she turned away. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it. Not your problem.”

“Who are you calling?” he insisted.

“Duane. He and his friends will take care of her.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “You’re going to give a wounded woman on medication to a biker gang?”

“They’re good guys. They have their own church.”

Instant fury sent hot blood to his face. “Having your own church doesn’t make you a good guy. It only makes you tax-exempt.”

“Don’t shout at me.”

“I’m not shouting.”

“I wouldn’t call that your inside voice, Sam.” Justine lifted her phone and tapped on the small screen.

“No,” he growled.

“No, what?”

Sam took a deep breath, yearning to put his fist through a wall. “I’ll—” He broke off and cleared his throat roughly, and gave her a wrathful glance. “I’ll take her.”

“To your house,” she clarified.

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Good. Thank you. My God, all this drama.” Shaking her head, Justine went to the vending machine and punched some buttons to get a drink.

* * *

Lucy blinked in bewilderment as Sam Nolan came through the curtain partitions. “What are you doing here?” she asked faintly.