I harrumphed and grabbed another slice of pizza. I’d better eat up. Who knew when we’d get food again.
“You feeling better?” I said to Colin with my mouth full of dough.
“Not really.”
“You should try to eat again.”
“Greasy cheese and pepperoni don’t really sound good.”
“Then try some of the crust.”
“I can’t eat glu—”
“Can’t? Or don’t want to?”
He looked away.
As I suspected. It was in his head. I tore the rim of crust off my piece of pizza and handed it to him. “Come on. It’s only plain bread.”
He winced, clearly disgusted.
“You have to eat, Colin. If you don’t have an allergy or celiac, this won’t make you sick.”
Finally, he nodded and took the piece of crust and shoved it into his mouth.
Yeah, he was hungry.
“When will we eat next?” I asked, my mouth still full.
“In the morning,” Dominic said. “Breakfast.”
“We’re going to be here all night?” No way.
“You’ll be here until we hear otherwise.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, until we receive instructions otherwise,” he said, clearly irritated. “I say what I mean, Marjorie. You don’t have to read between the lines.”
“Right. You said exactly what you meant when we first met.”
“I did. I told you I was a personal trainer, and I am.”
“It’s not your primary job.”
“So? It wasn’t a lie.”
I grabbed another slice and ripped the crust off, handing it to Colin. Then I shoved a third of it into my mouth.
I was done being ladylike. It wasn’t working anyway. I eyed Colin munching on the crust I’d given him. I pointed toward something with my eyes.
Dave had set something on the table next to Colin when he’d gotten a rag to clean up the vomit.
His cell phone.
Chapter Eleven
Bryce