"Well, after Jimmy had his tongue in Laura's mouth, I certainly wouldn't have wanted it in mine."
Katie outwardly cringed. "Me neither."
"And now he's stuck with her for the rest of his life."
With that bit of information, Katie's expression lightened. "He sure is. She's no gem either from what I heard."
As Katie went on to give her the latest gossip about Laura and Jimmy, the hair on the back of Lizzie's neck stood on end and an uneasy feeling came over her. She stiffened and tried to force herself to relax.
Katie must have sensed her unease because she stopped talking. "What is it?"
"I don't know. I just got a funny feeling is all. I'm sure—" She was cut off when her SUV was rammed hard from behind.
"Holy shit!" Katie screamed. "What the hell is going on?"
They got hit again, harder this time and the rear end of the SUV slid out, side to side again. Lizzie struggled to get the vehicle under control and when she finally did, she put the gas pedal to the floor.
"In my purse. Grab my cell and call Brand. Now!" Brand was closer than the sheriff. The large red truck behind her was closing fast. She barely heard Katie rambling hysterically to Brand on the phone as she tried her damnedest to get them the last ten miles to the Bar T and safety. Where the hell had they come from? She had been checking her rearview mirror and no one had been there! She risked another look in the mirror and saw the red truck directly behind them again and gaining fast.
"Brace yourself!" She screamed to Katie just before they were rammed a third time, this time it was trickier for Lizzie to gain control of the SUV as the back end swerved hard to the right and then to the left. She used all the skill she had and missed a fence post by a matter of inches as she ran off the road. She regained control and got back onto the asphalt surface. Again, she accelerated the SUV as fast as it could go.
Their only hope was to outrun whoever it was so hell-bent on running them off the road. Katie swiveled in her seat with the cell phone pressed to her ear.
"Can you see who it is?"
"No, they're too far back, but hammer it Lizzie, they're gaining fast."
"I've got the pedal to the damn floor! How the hell can they be catching us?" Lizzie screeched a panicked "Shit!" as she tore her gaze from the mirror. The truck was closing on them quickly.
"Sit in your seat, Katie, and brace yourself. They're gonna hit us again!" She heard the seatbelt click into place just before being struck again. This time the impact was harder and at enough of an angle to send them into a full out fishtail, one that Lizzie didn't have a prayer of maneuvering out of.
She dimly heard Katie's scream as the SUV went into the ditch, and then she felt the vehicle roll, hard and fast, jerking her body in multiple directions at once, airbags deploying, smashing into her face, nearly robbing her of breath. The vehicle rolled and rolled, over and over, her body slamming side to side, front to back. The seatbelt was digging into her shoulder hard enough that it felt like a knife cutting through flesh and her as the SUV flipped again Lizzie's head jarred forward hard and fast, then to the side and right into the window. Pain exploded across her forehead and temple and she literally saw stars. She wanted to scream in agony and fear as Katie was doing but nothing would come out. And when Katie stopped screaming, she wanted to reach over and help her, to ask her if she was okay, but she couldn't. She couldn't breathe. She was pinned in the seat and the SUV continued to flip.
She didn't know if her best friend was alive or dead, and when she tried to turn her head, the vehicle stopped rolling, slamming down hard on its side. The dark edges of unconsciousness were closing in on her and she felt the warmth of blood running down her face.
She needed to see if Katie was okay. When she turned to reach for Katie, she saw her best friend's body twisted into an impossible position, and there was absolutely no movement. Oh, God, Katie!
As she reached for Katie, the darkness threatened again, edging in, blurring her vision along with the red, thick, sticky substance running down her face. "Katie," she choked, just as the darkness took her.
36
Lizzie
She woke up to the smell of disinfectant, and excruciating pain throughout her entire body. It felt like Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan was using her head for a snare drum.
Opening her eyes felt impossible. She mentally checked her body, from head to toe. She had feeling everywhere, she just needed to open her eyes. She fought like a mad woman to open her eyes, and she dimly heard Jake's voice. Jake. She heard him pleading with her to open her eyes. She was trying damn it! Her eyes weren't listening. She tried harder, concentrated on putting all her energy to just her eyelids and forcing them open. Finally her eyes opened a little and she was met with a blinding bright light. She quickly squeezed them shut.
"Come on, Darlin', I saw you peek. Open those beautiful green eyes all the way."
She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, so she whispered. "Too…bright."
A familiar woman's voice crooned, "We can help you with that."
Then Jake was back. "The lights are dimmed now, baby. Try again." She did, and the first thing she saw was Jake's big brown worry-filled eyes. "There you are. I was wondering where you went."
His voice was husky as he brushed her hair back from her forehead with his hand.
So was she. She didn't know what happened. Where was she? "Where?" she croaked, and she saw the same woman she had just met in her kitchen a couple weeks ago.
Dr. Whitaker.
"You're in the hospital," she heard Dr. Whitaker say. "Here, let's give you an ice chip or two so you can answer a couple questions for me." The ice was blissfully cold and wet against her parched throat. "Ready?"
Her, "Yes," still came out as a croak but a little louder this time.
The doctor nodded. "Good. Do you know your name?"
"Lizzie."
"Very good."
"Do you know the year?"
"Two-thousand-twenty."
"Okay. How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Two."
"This might be a bit bright, but I need you to follow the light with your eyes, okay?"
Lizzie nodded. The pen light was bright, but she did as the doctor asked and followed it from side to side, up and down, until it was finally clicked off.
"Well, everything looks good. Do you remember what happened?"
She paused as she searched her memory and then it all came flashing back. The red truck hitting hers. Her SUV rolling over and over and Katie…
"Katie!" She struggled to get up only to be met by a strong pair of arms on either side of her body. "Let me go! I have to find Katie… I have to know if she's okay."
Jake's, "Lizzie, calm down," did nothing to calm her hysterics, but, the doctor's, "Lizzie, you need to settle down or I'll sedate you," forced her to stop struggling. She looked at Jake as tears began streaming down her face.
"Please, Jake. I need to know if Katie's alright." She saw him hesitate and she pushed her fear of what he was going to say aside. "Please."
"She's in surgery right now, baby. We'll know more in a couple of hours."
Despair filled every fiber of her being and Lizzie closed her eyes as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "Oh my God." Anguish and grief caused her heart to ache and her stomach to heave.
Jake gently grasped her upper arms and gave her a squeeze. "Look at me." When she didn't open her eyes, he squeezed a little harder. "Look. At. Me."
She opened her eyes to the fierceness in his. "It was not your fault. You did everything you could. And besides that, don't write her off yet. She's just as stubborn as you and a hell of a fighter." When she didn't answer he squeezed her arms again and then sat on the edge of her bed. "Did you hear me? It wasn't your fault."
A deep, "No, it wasn't," floated across the room, and Lizzie found its source in the sheriff, standing in the doorway to her room. "Can I come in?"
Lizzie nodded once, then reached up to still her throbb
ing head. Her casted hand slammed into her head. Stars exploded behind her eyes and nausea rolled through her. Excruciating pain split through her skull and she moaned aloud.
"Careful, Darlin'. You broke your wrist."
"It's not my wrist that hurts. It's my head."
"I'll have the nurse bring you some medication for the pain, Lizzie. I apologize it can't be as strong as I'd normally give an accident victim, with a concussion it's not safe."
"Great," Lizzie replied.
Dr. Whitaker moved to the door where the sheriff stood. "Not too long. She's not up for that yet."
He nodded. "I'd just like Lizzie's version of what happened, and I'll be on my way."
"Okay."
"Wait! When you hear something on Katie, doctor, good or bad, please, let me know."
The doctor nodded as she left the room. The sheriff came to stand next to her bed.
"How are you doing, Lizzie?"
"I've been better."
37
Jake
Jake held her hand in his and remained perched on the edge of the bed. He just couldn't seem to find the strength to let her go, not when he had come so close to losing her. Again.
"Do you remember what happened? Sheriff Brooks asked her.
"Yes."
Jake felt her pause, and as he studied her, her eyes glazed over as if she were in a trance, reliving every frightening second of being run off the road.
Sheriff Brooks took notes as Lizzie related step-by-step everything that had happened, and with each and every word, Jake's fury intensified. Her breathing grew choppy as she recalled the events just before the accident, and he wanted so badly to stop her, but he knew the sheriff needed the details.
"We got hit hard. So hard the SUV just turned and no matter what I did I couldn't stop it from going in the ditch. Then we were flipping over and over and over. Katie was screaming. Then all of a sudden she wasn't."
Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes, quickly spilling over.
"Shh, baby. It's okay. She'll make it."
When she began to sob, Jake leaned forward and carefully pulled her into his embrace.
"I tried…to get to her." She sobbed again. "I couldn't see…there was blood. So much blood. Then I saw her, twisted up." Her hands clutched at the back of his shirt. "She wasn't moving, Jake! I don't even think she was breathing. And everything went black. And I couldn't help her. I couldn't help her!"
She cried hysterically and a nurse came in the room to add a sedative to Lizzie's IV. She calmed after a few minutes, her sobs turning to hiccups, and then she went limp in his arms.
He leaned her back against the pillows, and she whispered, "I couldn't help her, Jake."
His heart broke into a million little pieces for her. Hell, his whole being ached for her. "You did everything you could to save her, Lizzie. Everything. And she's gonna make it, baby. She's gonna make it."
"You think so?" she whispered sleepily, and then she sniffled.
He reached for a Kleenex and wiped her nose. "Blow," he commanded, and she obeyed. He wiped her tears with a fresh tissue. "I know so. Now, rest, baby. Just rest."
He really hoped God didn't make a liar out of him.
He looked at the sheriff. "The bastard had better pray you find him first, because if it's me who finds him, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands."
Gavin nodded and continued to watch Lizzie sleep. "I'm not so sure he'll be real safe with me either. Is Katie going to make it?"
"We won't know until she's out of surgery, and even then, it'll be touch and go for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours."
"Where's Brand Thomason?"
"The Surgical Waiting Room with Katie's mom and brother. He just left here to get a progress report on Katie before Lizzie woke up. Why?"
"I've got a few questions. I need to ask him about what he heard during that phone call."
"Now might not be the best time."
Gavin nodded. "There's never a good time with someone's life hanging in the balance, but the more information I have and the faster I get it, the better chance have of catching the son of a bitch."
"Let him know Lizzie woke up and she's resting now."
"Will do."
Before the sheriff left the room, Jake stopped him at the door. "Did you find anything at the scene?"
"No."
Jake knew there was more to that "no" than the sheriff stated full out. He almost hated to ask, but he needed to know.
"What did you find?"
"See for yourself," the sheriff said as he handed Jake a plastic bag that held a small slip of paper.
You will belong to me or to no one.
"Shit," Jake exhaled, handing the bag back to the lawman.
"We're on it, but I can guarantee that we won't find any prints. The bastard is smart," the sheriff told Jake with a shake of his head. "We'll do our best to get this guy. He's our number one priority."
"Thanks Sheriff. I appreciate that."
As the sheriff left the room, Jake vowed to himself to find the bastard who was hurting Lizzie, and then he'd make him pay.
38
Lizzie
She was bored. She had nothing but time on her hands to think, think, think, and she was tired of her own voice. She looked around the bedroom and sighed. If anyone had told her a month ago, when she first returned home to Chance Creek, Wyoming, that she would be living with Jake Kramer, she'd have laughed right in their face. And the laugh would have been on her. She was, in fact, living under Jake's roof and in more ways than was smart, thrilled about it.
Two days after the accident, when she'd been released from the hospital, Jake bullied her into staying at his house. Sure, it was convenient that Amy was there to help her get around until her injuries healed. And yes, with her parents still on their cruise, it made sense to stay where there was someone able to help. And she definitely needed help. But that didn't mean she had to admit she liked it, either to Jake or to herself. Because acknowledging she loved being in Jake's house, sleeping with him in his bed, being near him all the time would mean she wanted to stay there. As of yet she hadn't figured out a way to be able to do so.
Now, eight days after the accident, as she wracked and wracked her brain in an effort to find a solution, good humor didn't stand up in the face of her frustration. She needed something else to occupy her time and sitting in bed wasn't cutting it. Amy had brought her some really great books by her favorite authors, but they just weren't enough to keep her entertained. She was sore and cranky and lying in this bed was ticking her off.
As she sat up, her head started to pound, and Lizzie cursed the whole post-concussive syndrome deal. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but it still wasn't great. And pain made her cranky. She'd take a few ibuprofen and all would be right in her world.
Well, maybe not.
As she reached for the pills on the table, she realized she had no way of opening this child-proof bottle with a broken left wrist. Her frustration went white hot.
The only thing worse than being bored and in pain was being helpless, bored, and in pain. It brought back painful memories of seven years ago when she was a broken mess, physically and emotionally, lying there in the hospital without being able to do one single thing for herself.
Screw it, she'd go without the medication. She threw the bottle across the room and it bounced off the closet door and fell to the floor, the pills clinking inside the plastic bottle.
Throwing the bottle hadn't made her feel any better, as she knew it wouldn't, and now she had to get up and go get the bottle. Damn.
She forced herself to stand, then sat back down. Well, maybe she couldn't, not when it felt like the ever-talented Rev was back for an encore. Post-concussive syndrome sucked ass.
Seated at the edge of the bed, head hanging, she didn't see Jake enter the room. She jumped when he spoke.
"What's the matter, Lizzie?"
She didn't want to tell him she couldn't open the bottle, but sh
e had no choice. Without looking up, she stretched her arm out, and pointed at the evil little bottle.
"I can't get the bottle open and I've got a headache." She knew she sounded whiny, but she just couldn't seem to muster up perky and cheerful when she was feeling like crap.
"Let me see if I can help you out here, Darlin'." He walked over and picked up the bottle. "Those childproof bottles can be a real pain in the ass."
She raised her head and looked at Jake, bracing for that arrogant look she dreaded, but found something altogether different. She saw understanding. No sympathy. No pity. Just understanding. "Thank you."
He took the bottle from her hand and tried to pry the lid off, only to have his efforts hampered. The expression on his face was one of confusion and determination as he looked at the bottle. Lizzie felt a giggle forming at the back of her throat as he shook the bottle like a maraca, then tried a second time and failed to pry the lid off.
"How does this damn thing work?"
She bit back the smile threatening to break free. "You have to line up the arrows. It's harder than it looks." If she had had two free hands, she could have had the thing open already. Her amusement continued as his tongue poked out the side of his mouth, his brow furrowed in concentration, as he lined up the arrows before popping off the lid. A look of triumph spread across his face.
"Ha! Got it. These bottles are tricky little suckers."
Her, "Aren't they though?" was laced with humor.
His eyes narrowed and his brows pulled together, and when he met her gaze she giggled. How long had it been since she actually giggled? Too long. But he was so cute, concentrating so hard to open one little pill bottle and all for her. Leave it to Jake to make her smile when she was at her worst.
"How many do you need, Lizzie?"
"Three." Then remembering her mother had taught her to mind her manners at all times, she chirped out a, "Please."
He might have looked surprised at the "please," but the look came and went so quickly she wasn't sure. He shook out the three pills and placed them in her hand, then went to pour her a fresh glass of water from the pitcher Amy had set by the table just a little while earlier. She put the pills in her mouth then reached for the glass of water. When she had swallowed the pills, she handed the glass back to Jake who promptly set it on the bedside table.
When Petals Fall: A Cowboy, Second Chance Romantic Suspense (Chance Creek Book 1) Page 20