Facedown.
Disoriented.
Shocked.
But alive.
For the flash of a moment, I lay there trying to process what had happened. As the paranoia tried to possess me the way it always did.
To convince me it was purposed, and the car had tried to run me down.
Memories of coming home to find flames devouring my condo that night invaded my mind.
Old fears screamed this wasn’t by chance.
It wasn’t by accident.
But how many times had I done this? How many years did I spend hiding at the back of my closet, shivering in terror? How much life had I missed because of it?
Both pain and relief suddenly splintered through my body as the adrenaline drained free of my pores and my nerves took over. A wail erupted from my raw, aching throat.
Disoriented and shaking, I pushed myself up enough to see the car skidding around the corner at the four-way stop up ahead. It disappeared behind a hedge of shrubbery the second it made the turn.
Choking out a cry, I slumped back down. Tears blinded my eyes and gasps ripped from my throat as dread hooked like splintery barbs into my spirit.
You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re fine, I silently chanted in an attempt to stave off the fear.
A shriek tore from my lungs when a hand suddenly landed on my shoulder.
I jerked that way to find an older man wearing baggy swim trunks and a stained tee hunched over me.
His mouth was moving frantically.
Shouting.
Worry came off him in waves.
Overwhelming.
I braced myself against it, and I managed to shift around to sitting, groaning with the pangs that already were screaming from my muscles.
I ripped the earbuds free.
The second I did, his distress poured into my ears. “Can you hear me, girl? Are you okay?”
I blinked. My mind tilting from one direction to another. Panic and relief.
Before I could figure out how to respond, he lifted both my arms away to inspect me.
He whistled low. “Lord have mercy. You are busted up good. Leakin’ blood like a sieve.”
Slowly, my gaze traveled to where he was looking. In slow motion. My thoughts so muddled, I was having trouble processing.
The sight of blood dripping down my leg and arms triggered another rush of pain.
My right knee was split open in about a three-inch gash, and my palms were shredded, pebbled with tiny rocks and sand.
“I’ll get an ambulance out here. Dontcha worry, girl. We’ll get you patched up quick.”
Alarm raced, and the word sprang free on a shout, “No.”
My tongue darted out to wet my dried lips, and I forced myself to get it together. “No. I think I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Don’t look so fine to me. I see some stitches in your future.”
“I really don’t think it’s necessary. I just…need to make a call.”
Dread glimmered. Different this time. Royce was going to lose it.
“That car nearly hit you,” the man rambled. “Thought they were gonna run you plumb over. Damn tourists. Probably partied all night, got liquored up, and decided to use our neighborhood as a playground. No one’s got any respect no more…not for property or human life.”
I barely nodded, fully agreeing with him and feeling awful that I wished in this instance his speculations were right.
That it was someone out for a joyride.
Swallowing the horror, I attempted a smile that was nothing more than a tremble of my lips. “It’s okay. I don’t think they saw me until the last minute. I should have been paying attention. Shouldn’t have had my music playing so loud. I didn’t even hear them until they were right there.”
I did my best to convince the guy that it was no big deal.
That it was my fault.
It wasn’t.
It wasn’t my fault.
For so many years, I’d questioned if it had been. If I’d done something wrong. Said something that invited it.
I’d let my mind toil with I should have done this, or I shouldn’t have said that.
I knew better now.
It didn’t matter what I’d said or done.
It wasn’t my fault.
But the guilty always wanted to make the innocent pay.
Not this time.
My paranoia and fear would no longer rule, and I was going to do this, no matter what it took.
I was determined to take back a little of what was owed.
To make a difference.
To make a change.
Even if it cost me my life.
Eight
Rhys
“You are my sunshine…my only sunshine! You makes me happy, when skies is gray…”
Daisy belted out the song where she sat on a stool coloring with markers on blank pieces of white paper at the island.
Pouring myself a fat cup of coffee, I joined in on the next line, singing it loud and raucous…because how could I not?
Not when the little thing grinned and giggled and mashed up my heart all over again.
I actually croaked over one of the words.
So what if I wasn’t feeling top-notch this morning.
I could blame it on the bottle of Jager I’d drowned myself in. Or maybe I could pin it on the anger and the fear I’d felt when I’d gotten that fuckin’ picture of my mama last night that was nothing but blackmail and bribery.