Page 14 of When The Dust Settles

“Why didn’t you just call us on back?” Zach growled. I knew why he was angry. Rand was pissed at him and he had to take it out on someone.

“I dunno,” I said flippantly, “y’all ain’t been all that concerned up to now.”

“Did you once say the pace was too fast?” Zach berated me.

I hadn’t. I’d meant to, but got diverted with my quarry and Mac. “No.”

“Well, then, how the fuck were we—oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re bleedin’.”

I had a scrape over the swell of my right hip, but I would live. “It’s fine.”

“You’re gonna be black and blue tomorrow.”

“The fuck do you care,” I snarled. “Just get on back up to the front and lead.”

He spurred his horse toward me and his look was murderous. “You—”

“Quit,” Rand ordered harshly, his tone brooking no protest. “Go get the guys who’re supposed to be riding drag back here with him.”

“Rand, I—”

“Now,” he bit off curtly, turning back to me, not giving Zach a chance to defend himself.

Zach shot me a murderous glance and was gone seconds later, leaving Rand sitting tall in his saddle, frowning at me.

“What?”

“We’ll have some guys back here to help you.”

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“You’re such a dick,” Rand barked. “Why ya gotta be such an asshole all the time?”

“It’s a gift.” I smirked up at him.

He left me then, but Mac dismounted.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what?”

“Unlike Rand, I will deck you,” he warned, his voice hoarse and low. “Now lemme look at your side.”

“It’s nothing,” I told him, taking off my hat and raking my fingers through my shoulder-length wet hair to get it out of my face before I put my hat back on.

“Just lemme see.”

I yanked my flannel and undershirt up and shoved my waistband down so he could see the wound. “There, see, it’s fine.”

“Are you serious?” He was using that tone, the one filled with disdain. “Jesus, Glenn.” He touched the reddening skin. “You need stitches.”

“It’s a scrape,” I argued.

“It’s a gouge,” he corrected me. “And it needs to be closed up.”

“You are out of your mind if you think—”

“Shut up,” he said gruffly, hand on my hip, holding tight. “God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” I squirmed out of his hands, stalking away and shoving my shirts back down.