Conflicted

We get through security, and I hang around in the waiting area while Aaron speaks to the clinic manager to get more information on what happened. I wander over to the worn, two-seater sofa and sit down, picking up a magazine from the stack sitting on the coffee table on the way. I flick through the pages of the gossip magazine, not really reading, because I can’t focus on anything other than Duane’s death. I’m glad he’s dead, but from experience, I know that won’t bring his victim’s family closure.

“Are you ready?”

I look up and nod at Aaron, placing the magazine back on the stack.

“So, what happens now?” I ask, following him out.

“They’ll launch an investigation into his death, and decide if anything could have been done to prevent it. For me, it’s case closed. I move on to the next one.”

“Or maybe you take a break and let yourself rest?” I suggest. It’s the first we’ve mentioned his illness sin

ce my place.

He laughs. “I’ll rest when I’m dead, Lacey.” His laughter ceases when he sees my frown. “Sorry, I guess I’m not as funny as I think I am.”

“No,” I retort. “You’re not. And you can’t expect this not to take a toll on your body. If you wear yourself down—”

“I didn’t tell you so you could nurse me back to health, Lacey. Please stop treating me like your special patient.” His words cut through me and I flinch.

I glance down, muttering an apology to him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says with a sigh. “There is nothing you or I—or anyone, for that matter—can do. If you want to help me, just pretend I never told you, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.” It’s his decision not to fight this, so I don’t have a choice but to respect his wishes, but in the back of my mind I know it’s not the type of thing you can easily forget.

“What’s that?” I murmur, straining to see into the distance through the torrential rain that is pouring down around us. Flashing lights come into view. I’m not surprised to see it’s an accident, especially in this weather. We’re halfway home, and the whole drive it’s been raining heavily.

We slow to a stop at the insistence of a police car about a half mile out from the crash. Aaron winds down his window and smiles at the approaching officer.

“Evening, folks. Sorry to say you won’t be getting across the bridge tonight. Not for a good few hours, at least.”

“Is there another way through?” Aaron asks, his brow creasing.

“Not unless you want to add a few hours to your trip,” the officer replies apologetically. “There is a motel a little way down that road,” he says, pointing to the dirt road we just passed. “I’ve sent a few people that way tonight, though, so I can’t tell you if they have room.”

“Okay, thanks for the tip.” Aaron winds up the window and sighs. “So, any late night plans you’re rushing back for?” he asks.

“No,” I say, sure Lucas will forgive me for standing him up. It’s not like I have a choice. “What do you want to do?” I ask.

“I guess it makes sense to stay here and get up early in the morning.”

The thrill that races through me catches me off guard, and I don’t like it. You’re angry at him, remember? I scold myself.

“The long way isn’t an option?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“On the little amount of sleep we’ve both had, and in this weather?” He shakes his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you won’t be getting home tonight.”

We drive past the vacancy sign and into the parking lot of the motel. The rain has slowed, but doesn’t look like stopping anytime soon. We get out of the car and run over to the reception. I shiver as I step into the warmth of the small office.

“Awful night.” A lady in her fifties pops up from behind the counter, smiling kindly at us. “Another group that got caught by the accident?”

“You must’ve had a busy night,” Aaron says, chuckling.

“I don’t want to say I’m glad for the accident, but we’ve had more customers tonight than we have all month,” she laughs. “You’re very lucky, I have one room left.”

“Only one?” Aaron asks, glancing at me.

“It’s a twin, if that helps,” she adds, giving me an inquisitive look. “Are you father and daughter?”