Page 36 of The Mountain Echoes

“Try me,” I push.

She looks weak. Maybe she’s tired. Or not feeling well. Works for me.

“Come on, Aria, you like money, and I’ve got plenty of it,” I drawl lazily, enjoying the flicker of irritation and insult in her eyes.

It’s there and gone, but I’m starting to get a feel for Aria Delgado. I’m starting to learn her buttons.

She gets up. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Sit down,” I order.

She smiles at me and walks away.

She’s outside the restaurant, pulling out her phone, when I catch up with her. I grab her arm and take the phone from her, pocket it.

“I said I’ll take you.”

The look on her face stuns me. She looks…fragile. Her eyes are tired.

She’sreallynot feeling well, I realize, and feel like an asshole. “Come on.”

She doesn’t resist as I open my truck. She gets in without comment. I hand her back her phone. She holds it and closes her eyes.

There’s pain on her face.

“You okay?” I ask, my voice gruff.

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper.

I feel a pounding need to hold her and take care of her. I shake it off and bark, “Put on your seatbelt.”

Her movements are jerky as she gets the job done with effort.

“What’s wrong with you?” I demand.

“Just tired.”

Her voice is soft. Her eyes are closed. Her hands are clenched in fists.

I lean across and open the glove compartment. I throw a bottle of painkillers on her lap. She opens her eyes and looks at them, and then turns to me.

I pull out a bottle of water from the side where I keep them and hand it to her.

She takes three pills and drinks half the water. “Thank you.”

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“I get migraines.”

I don’t know much about that, so I wait for her to tell me more.

“I…it’s…stress-related, and I get nausea and…” She closes her eyes again, rests her head against the seat. “It hurts to keep my eyes open.”

“You take somethin’ for it?”

“It’s at the house.”

“The painkillers? Will they help?” I don’t like seeing her in pain. I want to soothe her. I want her to feel better.