Page 58 of Serial Burn

Nathan had already requested Kenny be picked back up and held for questioning, influential parents or not—and the chief had agreed. The timing couldn’t be denied. It would take Nathan a minute to get to the station to question the kid, because honestly, that wasn’t his priority at the moment. First, he was checking on Jesslyn.

She’d been admitted for observation against her protests that she was fine and could go home. Lainie put her foot down, and when Jesslyn’s aunt Carol showed up, that was the end of the argument.

Nathan had managed to avoid the same fate by promising he planned to stay close to Jesslyn—with the exception of the visit to the station to talk to Kenny Davies. Lainie could check on him when she checked on Jesslyn. He had some cuts and bruises, but surprisingly no burns. Jesslyn had some first- and second-degree burns on her hands, but the one that hurt the most was on her right leg.

Thankfully, shockingly, the smoke inhalation had been mild. Enough to irritate her lungs once more, but she should heal with meds and breathing treatments.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he glanced at the summary notification. Something about Jesslyn’s vehicle—he’dcheck it in a minute. He knocked and pushed the door open at the call to come in. Jesslyn sat up in the bed, her laptop open on her lap. While her hands were wrapped in bandages, most of her fingers were free. Her aunt Carol sat in the chair by the window reading a book by someone named Elizabeth Goddard. She put it down—reluctantly—at his entrance.

He smiled. “Hello. I’m Nathan.”

“Oh hi,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Jesslyn’s mentioned you.” Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her jeans were torn at the knees and her Gamecocks sweatshirt about two sizes too big. She might be in her midfifties, but she looked about twenty years younger. “I hear you’re quite the hero,” she said, her voice soft.

Heat crept into his cheeks and he wanted to duck his head in an “aw shucks” kind of way. Instead, he simply shook it. “I did what needed to be done. So did Jesslyn.”

“I couldn’t have gotten out of that car without your help, Nathan,” Jesslyn said. Her voice was soft, raspy, low. “Just so you know. If you hadn’t been there...” She shuddered.

Carol stood and placed her book on the table. “I’m going to grab a coffee while you two chat. I’ll be back in a bit.”

She left and Jesslyn burst into tears. Sobbing as though she’d lost her best friend—or her entire family. Feeling helpless, Nathan wondered if he should go after her aunt or track down Lainie.

He decided to man up. If he could handle a burning car, he could handle her tears.

Hopefully.

He thought he might prefer the car, though. Not because he didn’t want her to cry, but he didn’t know how to stop her pain—and he wanted to. Just about more than anything else on earth at the moment.

He sat on the bed next to her and slid an arm around her shoulders, unsure if it would comfort her. He braced himself for her to push him away, but instead, she leaned into him and he pulled herinto a full embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and went silent.

After about five seconds of quiet, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’ve needed a good cry for hours and I couldn’t in front of Aunt Carol.”

But she could in front of him? Interesting.

She pulled back and dried her face with the sheet, then let out a low sigh. “Sorry to blubber all over you. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.” She shrugged. “I’m only a crier when things have built up and I feel like I’m going to explode. This latest thing was the dead man’s switch, I guess.”

He held up a hand. “No apologies necessary.”

“How’s your hip?”

“It’s fi—” The words froze on his lips at her look. “Okay, it’s not fine. It hurts.”

“Did you do more damage when we fell from the car?”

“No, it wasn’t far and I actually landed on the other hip, so at least that was a blessing.” She raised a brow at him. “And yes,” he said, “I had it x-rayed again. It’s just going to hurt a while.”

“I’m sorry.” A pause. “What am I going to do, Nathan?” she blurted. “This guy is serious about killing me, I do believe.”

He told her about Kenny, and she gaped, then snapped her lips shut. “So, it could be him.”

“Could be.”

“But how did he know where to find me? How would he know the route I’d be on?”

“One sec. I got a text—something about your car.” He pulled out his phone and read the message that had come in earlier. He pursed his lips.

“What?” she demanded.

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