Why was it starting to burn worse? “Shit, shit, shit.” She backed away from the sink, holding her hand to her chest. “What are you doing?” Aiden filled the doorway. She was torn between relief at seeing him and dreading what he might say to her next. He grabbed her elbow and examined her hand. “You don’t scrub pepper spray off with water. It only activates the oil again. Hold on. Don’t do anything.” As quickly as he arrived, Aiden darted out of the door. She heard another door bang against the backdrop of a radio playing the latest hits. Sunshine poured in through the open bay doors. Two men in coveralls were working on a blue convertible, not paying her much mind. She remembered meeting them the night before, but their names escaped her. Aiden returned in a matter of moments with a towel and a carton of milk. “Here. Give me your hand. Is this the only place you got it on you?” “I got some in my eyes, but I think I blinked it out.” “You’ll still want to rinse them out.”
