Page 71 of The Witch’s Orchard

Instead she says, “Easier to cut the pant leg than pull the whole pair off. ’Specially with these big-ass clodhoppers you’ve got.” She taps my half-calf-high tactical boots, and I’m suddenly overcome with gratitude that she decided to cut my jeans instead of my boot strings. They’re broken in just right. And, like my gun, they were a gift from Leo.

“Girl who kicks up as much shit as you do ought to have some reliable boots,” he’d said. I smile at the memory, and my face feels tight and hot. I try instead, to relax and watch the EMT’s hands at work on my leg.

“Thanks,” I say to her.

“No problem,” she says. “Looks like you grazed something in there.”

I figure it must’ve been that beam I kicked but who knows. I grimace at the gauze on my shin, just above my boot. I look closer and see a long scrape up the black leather and offer a silent thanks for well-made shoes.

“I cleaned it out,” she says. “Your boots absorbed the worst of it. Didn’t even break the leather. You don’t need stitches or anything, so that’s good. We’ll get you to the hospital and—”

“Nope,” I say. “Nope. I’m… I’m okay. I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, right? Not bleeding from anywhere?”

“Well, I can’t make you go. Just keep it clean,” she says, hands on her hips. “Keep fresh gauze on it. And you’re going to want to report to the hospital in the morning. Get you a tetanus booster.”

“Oh,” I say. “I’m good.”

She gives me a practiced side-eye.

“Military,” I say.

She nods like that explains everything.

“Chest X-ray wouldn’t hurt either. But you got lucky.”

“I know.”

“Promise you’ll go to the hospital if you start to feel worse.”

“Scout’s honor.”

She rolls her eyes and walks off.

“Most of the second floor collapsed,” AJ says. “Right after we pulled you out.”

I put the water bottle to my mouth. Drain it.

“Yeah. You sure you don’t wanna go to the hospital, Annie?”

“Don’t like ’em. Can’t afford ’em. And, right now, I don’t need one. I’ll be fine. I just need a shower and some food.”

“Okay,” he says. “I can help with some of that, at least.”

I smile at him, exhausted, and lay my head back against the cruiser and close my eyes. Almost instantly, I hear the sound of another car crunching over the gravel and into the lot. A door slams and boots hit gravel.

“Somebody tell me what the hell happened here,” Sheriff Jacobs barks to the general crowd from the other side of the car.

I open my eyes and find AJ looking not at his boss but at me.

“Oh, come on,” I say to the sky, pleading. “Just a shower. That’s all.”

“You!” Jacobs says, rounding the corner. “Just what the hell areyoudoing here?”

“I only—”

“I swear to Christ, it’s like you’re a walking bad-luck charm!” His cheeks are red with some blood-pressure-raising mix of frustration, surprise, and anger as he points at the smoldering factory and shouts at me. “Does chaos just happen to follow you around or do you invite it along for rides in that ugly clunker of yours?”

A growl works its way from my belly, up through my chest, and into the back of my mouth before I realize I’m too tired to fight and, anyway, there’s no getting out of this. The growl turns into an exhausted sigh.