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'Where's your hatchet?' he asked. |
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'Under my duds,' Sandy said. |
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Stepping away from the wall, he nudged the pile with his shoe until he spotted the wooden handle. |
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'You'd better get dressed,' he said. |
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Sandy raised her upper lip. 'I can't put them things on. They'll get me all dirty and I might go wild again.' |
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He supposed that was true. 'You don't want to go out in that,' he said. |
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'Well, I don't much wanta go out at all.' |
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'I can't leave you here.' |
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'Maureen might come home.' There was a roughness in his voice that made Sandy draw her head back. |
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'Well, I wouldn't hurt her or nothing.' |
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Softening his tone, he said, 'I'm not going to leave a stranger in her house. Besides, she might come home wet. If that happens, she'll attack you. I don't want either one of you getting hurt.' |
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'Well, I don't wanta get wet again.' |
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'I've got a car just outside the kitchen. It's not in the rain.' |
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'Where do you aim to take me?' |
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'Just away from here. You won't have to leave the car. Come on.' He backed his way out of the bathroom, watching her. She stepped over the pile of clothes, taking a long stride to avoid them, the robe slipping away from her thigh. She made no attempt to snatch up the hatchet. |
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She's either all right, Trev thought, or she's putting on a good act. |
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