Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles by Kathryn Smith Read Free Book Online

dreams, the sooner she would begin to heal.
    “Dawn,” she croaked. “Hi.” She sounded awful, so hoarse and frail.
    I forced a smile. “Hi, there. You up for a little company?”
    She shrugged, then winced. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was in. “Sure.” Her gaze flitted to Noah and he smiled.
    “I’m going to go get a coffee,” he announced. “I’ll be back before your mom gets here.”
    I tried not to show—or voice—my surprise. He was going to leave me? Here, with his traumatized ex-wife? Did he need caffeine that badly, or had I been so easily duped into playing doctor with a woman who didn’t want my help?
    Either way, I was a little pissed, and I shot him a lookthat told him that. In return, I got a look that wasn’t so much contrite as it was determined. His concern for Amanda was admirable—sorta—but his methods left something to be desired.
    Noah’s ex-wife fumbled for his hand with her own, and gave his fingers a squeeze before letting him go. “Thanks.”
    He bent and kissed her forehead. The gesture struck me as sweet, and more than a little sad.
    When he was gone, and Amanda and I were alone, I eased closer to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”
    She shook her head and lifted her left arm. “They’ve got me on tubes for everything. It hurts to eat, hurts to pee. Tubes take care of it.” She laughed humorlessly and I swallowed. Hurt to pee? Christ.
    Then she looked at me. “You know, you’re the first person who hasn’t asked me how I’m doing.”
    I didn’t think she was offended by that either. “I guess the answer is fairly obvious.”
    A hint of a smile curved her swollen lips. “Noah won’t let me look at myself.”
    I kept my expression guarded. Whether or not I agreed with Noah didn’t matter. He was trying to do what he thought best, but taking more of Amanda’s control away wasn’t going to help her. “Do you really want to see?” I asked.
    She nodded. “I do.”
    I rummaged through my bag and found my compact du jour . I opened the plastic container and offered it to Amanda. She took it with trembling fingers. “I have this kind,” she remarked, with the kind of surreal observation I often experienced in my line of work.
    “It’s good stuff,” I replied evenly, trying not to hold my breath as she angled the mirror to better see herself with her one good eye.
    She was quiet as she surveyed the damage. I watched, looking for any flicker of emotion. Amanda stared at her own reflection as though looking at a stranger.
    “It’s not as bad as I thought,” she said finally, handing the compact back to me. “Nice to know I look better than I feel.”
    I dropped the makeup into my bag once more, and then set the supple leather on the chair by the bed—the one Noah had been sitting in when I arrived. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    She shook her head. It was a little unnerving, having that one dark eye focused so sharply on me. “Not really.”
    “Okay.” I was relieved. I didn’t want to be her doctor, and I didn’t know if we could ever be friends, so her not wanting to talk took the pressure off of me to be anything to her.
    I guess she figured she owed me an explanation. “I don’t want your pity.”
    “I don’t pity you.”
    That one-eye gaze bore sharply into mine. “After what I did to Noah, I guess you don’t.”
    “Noah’s got nothing to do with it,” I told her honestly. “I feel for you, and I genuinely hope that you make a full recovery.”
    She was silent for a moment. Maybe she was collecting her thoughts, or maybe she was wondering if I was sincere, and how much of that sincerity came from my desire to not share Noah with her any longer than I had to. If asked, I’d say maybe fifty percent.
    How was that for honesty?
    “I went for a walk,” Amanda rasped, her battered throat obviously kicking up a fuss at being forced to make words. She took a sip of water. “Alone, late at night. You going to tell me how stupid that