He passed through the bright sunshine yellow kitchen, down the hall and straight into the bathroom. Setting her on the counter, he flicked on the light, making her blink in the harsh brightness of it. The small pale blue room was well lived in. The lace shower curtains were flung over the top of the rod because she’d taken a bath that morning. Her towels were still on the floor, as were her favorite peach bra and matching panties. She had her things scattered over the counter: her favorite body lotion, a fistful of scrunchies in every color under the sun, her big round brush, her strawberry cream lip gloss, and an assortment of other necessities.

“First-aid kit,” he said, looking baffled by it all. His eyes darted around, landing on her peach panties.

“There’s some Band-Aids in the drawer.”

He went hunting through the messy drawer, past a box of tampons and hair dryer without a word, but the box of condoms stopped him.

“Three,” she said to his unasked questions.

He lifted his gaze to hers.

“Three are gone,” she clarified. “You wanted to know, right?”

“Not really,” he muttered, and shoved the box to the back with more force than was necessary.

She put her hand on his wrist and waited until his eyes swiveled back to hers. She was aching from the cuts on her legs now, her throat felt as if she’d swallowed glass, and her head…she was certain some little guy with a jackhammer had made himself at home between her eyes. She’d lived through a nightmare tonight and yet suddenly she felt like smiling at the brooding look in Joe’s eyes. “None of the stuff in that drawer is mine,” she told him. “It all belongs to the person who rents this place full time, who is Chloe’s college roommate. I told you about her, remember? She went home to Maine for the summer.”

To his credit, he laughed a little at himself, then it seemed to back up in his throat when she pulled one foil packet from the box and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans, her fingers brushing his gun as she did so. “Just in case,” she murmured.

He went still for a breath, then busied himself finding some antiseptic to go with the Band-Aids. He straightened with both in his hands, and no longer looked remotely relaxed.

Not that he’d been relaxed to begin with, but his jaw was all bunched and the muscle in it was leaping. His eyes were like smooth glass but filled with things he’d kept to himself.

He unraveled her from the blanket and nodded to her skirt, which was stuck to her in places, with little spots of blood soaking through. “Lift it.”

Instead, she held it down, feeling oddly self-conscious. “The paramedics already looked at the cuts.”

“But you didn’t let them put anything on them.”