papers in hand, no doubt looking lost and confused.
"I can call my Dad."
The nurse smiled and pointed toward a wall phone. "You can use that phone there. Just dial nine first."
"Thank you."
In order to get her dad there without alarming him, she told him she was delivering flowers at the hospital and had a flat tire, asking him to come and pick her up. Then she left the ER and walked through the hospital to the main entrance and waited.
* * *
Bryce awakened to someone poking him on the shoulder. He rolled over and almost fell off the living room couch.
He blinked.
It was daylight.
Bren was standing there holding her stuffed dog. "Are we going to school today? I can't get Mommy to wake up."
"Where is she?" He kept his voice even, kicking back the panic clawing at his back.
"In bed." She looked more puzzled than scared.
A dozen alarmed questions popped into his mind, none of which he'd ask his baby sister. "You go on and get some cereal. I'll check on her."
For a long moment, Bren stood there with a look in her eyes that scared the shit out of him--a look that said she trusted
him
to make it all right.
He touched her shoulder. "It's okay. Go on."
As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Bryce raced up the stairs two at a time. Shit. He'd waited up for his mom to come home and fallen asleep on the couch. If he'd stayed awake...
He skidded to a stop at his mother's open bedroom door.
She lay diagonally on the bed on her stomach, wearing only her underwear. Her face was turned away, her clothes in a heap on the floor.
Bryce swallowed dryly and walked into the room, steeling himself for the worst.
Slowly, he reached toward her arm, fearing the same cold, unyielding feel of Grandmother Vera's skin in the casket. Now he wished he hadn't touched his dead grandmother. But he'd been so curious....
His fingers made contact with his mother's skin. Warm. Alive.
His breath left him in a rush and dizziness washed over him.
"Mom." He shook her--hard. "Mom!"
She mumbled and swatted him away.
It was a routine that was sickeningly familiar. There would be no waking her until she slept this one off.
Bryce left the bedroom and closed the door.
He had to get Brenna ready for school.
"Abby?"
Abby turned away from the glass doors that led to the entrance portico of the hospital. The movement told her that she'd been still too long; her sore muscles were beginning to tighten and cramp.
Jason Coble stood there, wearing a hospital ID tag, a dress shirt and tie, and black slacks. He looked just as hot as last evening--but in a much more professional way.
His greeting smile faded. "Oh my God, are you all right?" he asked, eyeing her bruised and butterfly-bandaged forehead. "What happened?"
"I had an accident." She bit her lower lip to keep from saying more. The knot arose in her throat again as she thought of that poor man lying in the woods. But she'd held herself together this long; she was determined not to break down until she got behind the privacy of her own door.
She tucked her hands behind her back as the trembling began once again. Her dismissal papers rattled slightly as they shook against the back of her skirt. She hoped Jason didn't notice.
He walked closer. "In a car?" He raised his brow and pointed to the stains and mud crusted on her clothes.
"My van went into the marsh." She looked down at herself. "This happened when I walked out." Walk being a relative term, she thought.
"But you're all right? You've been checked out in the ER?" His hazel eyes reflected the concern in his voice. She felt foolish for even flirting with the possibility that he'd drugged her while they sat in Jeter's last night.
"Yes. I'm just waiting for my dad to pick me up."
"How did it happen? The accident, I mean. Was it on your way home from Jeter's?"
"I don't think so. I lost consciousness." She touched the throbbing bump on her head. "I really can't remember anything."
"And they're letting you walk out of here! You should be
"I can call my Dad."
The nurse smiled and pointed toward a wall phone. "You can use that phone there. Just dial nine first."
"Thank you."
In order to get her dad there without alarming him, she told him she was delivering flowers at the hospital and had a flat tire, asking him to come and pick her up. Then she left the ER and walked through the hospital to the main entrance and waited.
* * *
Bryce awakened to someone poking him on the shoulder. He rolled over and almost fell off the living room couch.
He blinked.
It was daylight.
Bren was standing there holding her stuffed dog. "Are we going to school today? I can't get Mommy to wake up."
"Where is she?" He kept his voice even, kicking back the panic clawing at his back.
"In bed." She looked more puzzled than scared.
A dozen alarmed questions popped into his mind, none of which he'd ask his baby sister. "You go on and get some cereal. I'll check on her."
For a long moment, Bren stood there with a look in her eyes that scared the shit out of him--a look that said she trusted
him
to make it all right.
He touched her shoulder. "It's okay. Go on."
As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Bryce raced up the stairs two at a time. Shit. He'd waited up for his mom to come home and fallen asleep on the couch. If he'd stayed awake...
He skidded to a stop at his mother's open bedroom door.
She lay diagonally on the bed on her stomach, wearing only her underwear. Her face was turned away, her clothes in a heap on the floor.
Bryce swallowed dryly and walked into the room, steeling himself for the worst.
Slowly, he reached toward her arm, fearing the same cold, unyielding feel of Grandmother Vera's skin in the casket. Now he wished he hadn't touched his dead grandmother. But he'd been so curious....
His fingers made contact with his mother's skin. Warm. Alive.
His breath left him in a rush and dizziness washed over him.
"Mom." He shook her--hard. "Mom!"
She mumbled and swatted him away.
It was a routine that was sickeningly familiar. There would be no waking her until she slept this one off.
Bryce left the bedroom and closed the door.
He had to get Brenna ready for school.
"Abby?"
Abby turned away from the glass doors that led to the entrance portico of the hospital. The movement told her that she'd been still too long; her sore muscles were beginning to tighten and cramp.
Jason Coble stood there, wearing a hospital ID tag, a dress shirt and tie, and black slacks. He looked just as hot as last evening--but in a much more professional way.
His greeting smile faded. "Oh my God, are you all right?" he asked, eyeing her bruised and butterfly-bandaged forehead. "What happened?"
"I had an accident." She bit her lower lip to keep from saying more. The knot arose in her throat again as she thought of that poor man lying in the woods. But she'd held herself together this long; she was determined not to break down until she got behind the privacy of her own door.
She tucked her hands behind her back as the trembling began once again. Her dismissal papers rattled slightly as they shook against the back of her skirt. She hoped Jason didn't notice.
He walked closer. "In a car?" He raised his brow and pointed to the stains and mud crusted on her clothes.
"My van went into the marsh." She looked down at herself. "This happened when I walked out." Walk being a relative term, she thought.
"But you're all right? You've been checked out in the ER?" His hazel eyes reflected the concern in his voice. She felt foolish for even flirting with the possibility that he'd drugged her while they sat in Jeter's last night.
"Yes. I'm just waiting for my dad to pick me up."
"How did it happen? The accident, I mean. Was it on your way home from Jeter's?"
"I don't think so. I lost consciousness." She touched the throbbing bump on her head. "I really can't remember anything."
"And they're letting you walk out of here! You should be
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