Page 35 of Bound in Ashes

I squeezed her hand. “That was all Jack.”

She waved me away. “Don’t be modest. Jack is…” she crinkled her brows as she searched for a word, “useful. But we all know who’s responsible for our safety. You made this happen. And we would all be dead without you, Asia.”

She studied me for a long moment, something I couldn’t quite name flashing in her eyes. “Your uncle is a good man, and he and your aunt raised a great woman.”

She locked her eyes on mine, and my own vision started to cloud.

Then Bridget smiled, and shook her head. “Now let me stop. Don’t want to ruin my makeup.”

I giggled. “Bridget, you don’t have any makeup.”

“That’s right. This is natural beauty. Has been all along,” she said with a laugh as she reached up and smoothed the skin around her eyes, pulling so tight it looked like it hurt. Then she sobered. “How pathetic is it that even in all this I miss my face cream and lip stain? I’m alive. That’s what counts, right?”

I didn’t know what to say, and felt the weight of Bridget’s stare as she waited for a response.

“We’re just doing the best we can,” I finally said.

She smiled like I said something profound and patted my hand. “I’ll let you finish.”

I stayed a few extra minutes, but decided to stop putting off the inevitable.

“Looking good,” Lourdes said when I finally entered the living room.

She was smiling, but her gaze lingered on my neck for a half a second too long.

Only sheer will kept me from reaching up to touch the spot.

Lourdes, God bless her, said nothing, but I didn’t miss the knowing glint in her eye.

I looked down at my cartoon mouse T-shirt and flannel pants with Christmas trees that Aunt Kathleen had bought for Christmas fifteen years ago.

“This passed for looking good? How low we’ve fallen,” I said.

“We’re not covered in sweat. I’m not complaining,” she said.

I smiled. “Me, either.”

In fact, I was elated.

Right after we got here, I threw that godawful sleeping bag into a bonfire, and spent three uninterrupted hours taking out my braids, detangling, washing, and conditioning my hair. I hadn’t taken the time to rebraid it and settled on a loose ponytail, at least for now.

A fine hairstyle, but one that left my neck completely exposed. On instinct, I trailed my fingers against the spot where Jack marked me.

Here I was at my big age with my very first hickey.

How ridiculously embarrassing.

At least, it should have been.

They would all see it.

Know who put it there.

A fact that didn’t bother me nearly as much as it should have.

“I feel almost like myself again. Whatever that means,” I said.

Lourdes nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.”