Chapter 7I stunk—I smelled like salt water and sweat and blood, and I knew that a hot shower would do me a world of good. Instead of getting up though, I rolled over again, closed my eyes, and wallowed in self-pity until I heard a pounding on my front door. That had to be Billy.
Billy had cleaned the blood and dirt off her face back at the motel, but she still hadn't looked much better than me in the wee morning hours when we parted ways; however, I was extremely annoyed at how she looked this morning. She was scrubbed clean, hair hanging in ebony waves down her back, and aside from the butterfly bandage on her forehead, I only saw two minor cuts on her chin that looked more like scratches. Her short-sleeved blouse showed her upper arms, one of which was wrapped in gauze, but she didn't h
