“And warmer,” she murmurs.

The comment came out so quiet that I doubt she meant for me to hear. But I did, and I hope.

As the minutes pass, I watch her from my peripheral vision, silently begging for more questions. But she’s curled in on herself, and she doesn’t pay any attention to me.

My body aches in a variety of ways. The bruises and cuts from my fight nag, but I know they’ll be half healed by morning. It’s the pain underneath my rib cage that’s getting to me. The ache spreads, radiating out from the spot where Zoey has taken up residence.

If I don’t find a way to earn her forgiveness, her acceptance …

I’m not sure when Zoey became such an important piece of my life. It could be as early as the moment she started crocheting while surrounded by bikers. All I know now is that the thought of her walking away makes me want to howl in denial.

I’ll fix this. Somehow.

I’ve opened my mouth to say something, anything, when a set of headlights flashes up ahead.

The two of us freeze, and then I’m stepping up to the road, waving my arms frantically.

Soon, Zoey and I are sitting in the warmth of Mr. Morrison’s pickup as he pulls back out onto the road.

“You kids are real lucky I decided to drive out tonight instead of waiting for the morning. Just think, you’d be walking another three miles before the gas station. And, shit, Warner, your chest is mangled. A mountain lion, you said? They normally don’t go for you big fuckers. Gotta look out for kids and dogs, but not hulking fellows like you.”

“Pretty sure it was a mama with her cubs nearby,” I answer when the old man pauses to take a breath and a puff from his cigarette. The window is cracked for him to blow out his smoke, but the whole cab still reeks of it.

Not that I’m complaining. I’m just happy that Zoey’s off her aching feet and safe from any other wild creatures roaming the woods at night.

Except for me, of course.

She sits wedged between the two of us on the truck’s bench seat, doing her best to sink into the recesses of my sweatshirt. I’d find the sight adorable if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s so quiet and studiously avoiding making eye contact.

“Well, that’ll do it. You’d better get those cuts seen to. Don’t know what that cat had on its claws. Could get infected.”

“We’ll be stopping by the doctor first thing after we get Zoey’s car up and running.”