"Oh, God," I whispered, sitting back up. "That sucked."
He sat back on his heels, his face pale, a muscle jumping in his jaw. He looked from my foot to my face, then away.
The silence stretched too long.
My stomach dropped. "It's bad, huh?"
He didn't reply, which was answer enough.
I tried to look down, but his hand caught my chin, tilting my face back up. His eyes were dark and unreadable in the firelight, but they held an intensity. Concern, maybe. Or anger. Or both.
"Let's get the other one off," he said.
A tear spilled down my cheek.
He thumbed it away. "You should’ve told me you were in so much pain."
A knot formed in my throat. "Complaining wouldn't have helped."
He stared at me as if I'd just spoken a foreign language, a mixture of surprise and disbelief crossing his features.
"What?"
His hand was still on my chin, his thumb brushing absently against my jaw like he'd done it a hundred times before. Frustration flickered across his face. Or maybe helplessness. Then he released me and reached for my other boot. "Let's get this over with."
He pulled the second boot and sock free quickly. I bit back another scream, tears streaming down my face.
Mitch's warm hand gripped my shoulder. "Breathe, Charlie. Just breathe."
When I finally managed to blink the tears away, Mitch sat back, running a hand through his hair. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth. His eyes had gone dark, and his hand stayed in his hair, gripping like he was fighting to keep control. For the first time since I'd met him, that unshakeable composure had cracked.
And that scared the hell out of me.
Chapter 20
Charlie
* * *
Through my tears, I finally looked down at my heels. The skin had peeled away completely in places, leaving raw, weeping flesh. The right foot was worse than the left, but both were destroyed.
I wished I hadn't looked.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Mitch's head snapped up. "What the hell are you apologizing for?"
"For slowing you down. For not telling you sooner. For?—"
"Don't." The word came out sharp, almost angry. "Don't you dare apologize for this."
Silence stretched between us. He looked away, his jaw working as if he was chewing on words he didn’t want to voice. "We'll figure something out." He finally spoke, but his voice lacked conviction.
He pushed himself up and moved to sit against the tree, tugging off his cowboy boots and socks.
"Don't you have blisters?" I asked.
"Nope." He grabbed the log from beside the fire and tossed it on. Sparks shot up into the darkness, scattering like fireflies before fading.