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The Amendment (The Contract 2)

Page 19

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“I do.” He paused, his voice droll when he spoke again. “I still think you’re an asshole for making me get my hair cut and breaking my phone, but you’re all right, Richard. I actually think I owe you.”

A chuckle escaped my lips, the effort making me grimace. “Get me home before I hurl in your car, and we’ll call it even.”

He sped up slightly. “Good plan.”

Moments passed, the sounds in the car that of the rain beating down and the steady rhythm of the tires spinning on the wet pavement. I drifted, the medication beginning to take the edge off.

Brad’s loud curse followed by the cacophonous squeal of tires and brakes startled me, and my eyes flew open. The car shuddered as the sound of metal screaming and twisting on impact filled the cabin of the automobile. My body jerked as the car lifted, glass breaking and shattering as we rolled. The airbags deployed, hitting me in the face and chest, the sound of them going off deafening and frightening. Pain exploded—my head, my entire body, screaming in agony as it hit me full force. The car stopped suddenly, teetering on its roof. I groaned, the sound filled with anguish and confusion.

I tried to open my eyes. To speak. Something warm ran across my face. I attempted to lift my hand to wipe it away, except I couldn’t move. It felt as if my body were locked in a vise that was getting tighter every second, and I struggled to breathe. With an extreme effort, I forced open my eyes, blinking. I was upside down, hanging tethered from the seat belt. The airbag was pressed into me. I managed to look sideways toward Brad. He was unconscious and bleeding. Outside were people—screaming, running, shouting. I couldn’t make out their words because of the loud ringing in my ears. I tried again to talk, to call out, but nothing made it past my lips except another groan.

“Help is on the way! Hold on!” Voices yelled. A woman shrieked, the sound tormented and painful.

The car rocked, tilting side to side violently. Pain ripped through me, slicing into my brain and exploding down my spine. Sirens came closer, the noise around the car growing.

I began to black out, the pain obscuring everything in its path. Like an explosion of shrapnel in my lower back, it radiated outward, unlike anything I had ever felt in my life.

Excruciating, sharp, and, piercing.

Images of my girls slipped through my head before I succumbed to the black. Gracie laughing, Heather snuggling into me. My wife holding out her hand as she greeted me. The images wavered, dissipating in a sea of agony.

One word slipped from my mouth in a long, low groan as I gave in.

Katy.6KatyI tucked Heather into her crib, brushing my fingers over her fat little cheek. Her lips pursed in sleep, and she looked so much like Richard, it made me grin. She had his eyes, full lips, and his smile, although she was more laid-back like me. Both girls had his cowlick—a fact that he found amusing, knowing how annoying he found it to be. Gracie had Richard’s temperament, although she resembled me more, unless she was frowning. Then she looked like him, right down to the furrow between her brows. I had a feeling they would keep us on our toes for the next twenty years or more.

I peeked in on Gracie. She was sprawled out on her bed like a starfish, sleeping hard. I glanced at my watch, knowing I had thirty minutes of peace at the most. Probably more like twenty if I was being realistic. Heather would sleep a little longer, but Gracie would be up and raring to go in no time. She had been that way from day one. Down fast, up quick.

I walked downstairs, listening to the sound of the rolling thunder that had begun a while ago. I had noticed the dullness of Richard’s eyes this morning and made sure he had some pain medication in his pocket. Storms like this always brought on one of his headaches, and with Graham away, he refused to stay home today, saying he would handle it. His stubborn streak was one thing I knew would never change, so I didn’t argue with him.

I poured a cup of coffee, mentally planning dinner, when the doorbell sounded, and I hurried to the front door before it rang again and woke up the girls, interrupting my few moments of peace. Opening the door, I was shocked to find Graham and Laura on the doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping forward to hug them. “You’re supposed to be in the Caribbean!”

Laura chuckled. “We were until someone decided they were done with lazing on the beach and wanted to come home.”

I studied Graham. He looked rested and relaxed. He met my gaze with a smile. “I had enough,” he explained. “It was time to come home. There’s no point in staying when my mind was ready to get back at it.”


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