Run (Never Waste A Second Chance Book 1)

by Whiteaker, Janice M.

  She spun on her heel and headed for the door stopping to turn and look at him as she reached it. “You don’t deserve her.” And she left, gravel flying under her feet.

  Thomas leaned back against the tractor. “Shit.” He just royally fucked up.

  Nancy had been alone for years. Now he knew why. She assumed any man would judge her for her past, and he’d just basically told her they did. Even worse, he made her think he did. And it wasn’t even true.

  He tried to make it true, telling himself over and over Mina was a bad idea. It wasn’t working. He didn’t care about her ex. If anything it made him want to be close to her more. Make sure no one hurt her ever again. No, she wasn’t the problem. He was.

  His mom was right. He couldn’t be with Mina because he didn’t deserve her.

  She deserved a man who knew how to be the kind of husband a woman needed. If there was one thing he learned from his first marriage, it was he obviously didn’t know how to be that kind of man.

  If he was, Mary wouldn’t have changed her mind. About their plans. About their marriage. About him.

  His own marriage went belly up and to this day he still wasn’t sure why. He’d been blindsided when Mary left. Everything seemed fine, better than fine. One day they were making plans for a family and it seemed like the next she was packing up her stuff and giving him some half-assed excuse about different priorities. Even looking back he couldn’t see signs of her unhappiness. How would he know if it happened again?

  He wouldn’t.

  Not until he was sitting alone in a big house eating off paper plates because his ex-wife took all the dishes.

  He thought his life with Mary would give him the chance to be what he never had. He wanted a family. He wanted to be a good father and an even better husband and prove to himself and everyone else the apple couldn’t have fallen farther from the tree.

  He bought them a house, a big brick two-story near the farm for them to fill with kids and spend their lives together. It was solid and strong, just like he thought they were.

  He found out too soon, or not soon enough depending on how you looked at it, the house was much more capable of standing the test of time than they were. Two years into their marriage, Mary took a new job and quickly decided a family wasn’t anything she wanted in her near future. And neither was he.

  She decided what she wanted, was in her boss’s pants.

  He picked up a bucket at his feet and chucked it across the barn, the thud as it hit the hardboard wall making him feel oddly satisfied.

  He was still just as angry as the day he found out. Maybe more.

  When Mary left, everything he’d always wanted, a wife, kids, the chance to be happy, walked out the door with her leaving him alone in his misery. He wanted to try again, but he’d failed miserably the first time. There was no reason the next would be any different. It was unfair to test his luck on a woman who’d been through so much already.

  He crossed the barn and picked up the bucket. A large crack ran the length of the plastic side. He set it on a shelf in the work area then sat on the floor, his back against the wall.

  He needed to talk to his mom.

  He hadn’t been fair to her either. She deserved the truth and avoiding it had only made him hurt her. He stood up and started across the barn. A car door slammed and by the time he slid the heavy wood door open, she was pulling onto the road shrinking as the distance between them grew.

  “Shit.”

  He thought about calling her, but decided against it. She deserved his apology in person. Maybe she would be back soon.

  He decided to finish the tractors while he waited. Leaving the door open so he could catch her as soon as she got home, he went to the corner where he kept his gas cans. All full. Good thing he kept a few extras in the loft.

  He started up the ladder trying to remember where he put the hoses he used for siphoning. As his dirty boot hit the second to top rung he felt it give out under his weight. Searing pain ripped up the side of his leg where the jagged edge of the broken rung tore into flesh as he slid between the rails. He grabbed wildly for the top rung hoping to at least slow his fall, but his hands met only air. The ten feet between the betraying rung and the hard floor of the barn seemed to take an eternity. His mom was gone. There was no one to help him. His cell was in his truck parked in the driveway. He was in trouble.

  His slashed leg hit first, the sickening sound of splintering bones filling his ears in the milliseconds before the rest of him landed. The force of the impact forced the air to explode from his lungs and flung his head back against the cement. His last thoughts as darkness descended like a million spiders crawling in to smother out the light were the words he carelessly threw at his mother. They might be his last.

  EIGHT

  As fast as he hit, the barn floor beneath him evaporated, replaced by… nothing. Above him. Beside him. Below him. Nothing. No tractors. No broken ladder looming above. No hard, cold concrete under his back. He was surrounded by complete emptiness.

  There was no sound. No birds chirping. No cars driving past. Not even the sound of his own breathing.

  Confusion clouded his mind. How did he end up here? He should remember, but it was a struggle to even tell where here was. He looked around hoping to find a shred to cling to, something to offer a clue of what was going on. Was he dead? Could this be it, the great hereafter was limited to an eternity of consuming emptiness?

  He didn’t feel dead. He didn’t really feel alive either.

  There must be some explanation. Maybe he was lost. Lost where? Panic contorted his gut as a sick feeling washed over him. His skin clammed and drops of cool perspiration collected across his skin.

  He wasn’t lost. You had to be somewhere to be lost. He was nowhere.

  The air around him became heavy, almost suffocating making it difficult to catch his breath even as it came faster and faster. His body began to spin. He flailed his arms trying to find anything he could grasp to stop this spiral into certain oblivion. He spun faster and faster, dizziness stealing what little grip he’d managed on the situation. His eyes darted wildly, searching for something, anything to cling to.

  A pinpoint of light appeared in the distance. What seemed like the distance anyway. With no point of reference, it was hard to tell. Thomas watched closely as the small dot grew incrementally larger. He tried to reach for it, but his arm felt so heavy, like this world of nothingness suddenly had an unbeatable gravitational pull. He focused all his strength, slowly lifting his arm only to feel it being drug back down by that unseen force.

  Abruptly, the light began growing quickly. Faster and faster, becoming unbearably bright, forcing his eyes to close against the intensity as it came barreling toward him.

  As light came crashing all around him he was overtaken by unbearable pain. Pain in his head jumbled his thoughts. Pain shooting up his thigh. The agony forcing a low groan to climb up his throat as it tried to squeeze the air from his lungs.

  “Shhhhhhhhhh. I’m so sorry I have to do this.” A soft voice whispered gently from above him. He tried to open his eyes against the light, see where the voice came from, but an immediate, crushing pressure around his leg just below the joint forced them tightly shut as he screamed in agony.

  The already unbearable pain quadrupled and the spinning began again. Bile surged up his throat, burning as it climbed, the sickeningly bitter taste threatening to fill his mouth before retreating.

  “So sorry. I’m so sorry.” The soft voice was back. Soothing him. “You have to breathe Thomas. I know it hurts.” Soft warm hands stroked his face, smoothed his hair. “It will be okay. The ambulance will be here soon.” It was a woman’s voice.

  He tried to raise his arm again. Reach for the voice, the hands that were touching him so gently.

  “No.” the voice whispered as he felt his arm carefully pressed back at his side. “Be still. Just breathe.”

  He tried to open his eyes. He needed to see her, but the light was so
blindingly bright. He squeezed them shut again.

  “Please Thomas,” she pleaded. “Please be still.” The soft hands swept across his brow and paused on his cheek.

  One more time. He had to see her. He fought against the pain the light brought, gritting his teeth as his vision focused through the small slit he managed. He could make out a form leaning over him.

  Rays of light streaking from somewhere in the distance angled around her shoulders like the wings of an angel. He tried to make out more, but the stabs of light caused pain to sink deep into his skull as the threat of darkness began creeping in around the edges of his vision. Just a few more seconds. He just wanted to see her face, this angel desperately trying to save him. His angel.

  The blackness eased in and cold prickled his skin as she began to blur and fade.

  No! He fought back, straining against the draw of unconsciousness, trying to see her, just for a second, but he was too weak, too tired. The darkness came quickly crawling back in, consuming all but the same small point of light. A small point of light that held two golden eyes.

  Blackness overtook him. For how long, he didn’t know. He hadn’t even fully realized it happened until he found himself suddenly and violently thrust back into the blinding light. The pain came screaming back, overwhelming him. Hands were on him, but they weren’t gentle and calming like before. They were rough and forceful, moving him, squeezing him, bringing more pain.

  A cool, sharp path made its way quickly up one leg, then the other. Cool air bit at his bared flesh raising goose bumps that made his skin ache as tremors he couldn’t control wracked his body and made his teeth chatter. The sharp sting of a needle pierced his arm. An eyelid was forced open before a piercing light swung back and forth across his vision. He tried to turn away but his head wouldn’t budge no matter the direction he tried. He swiped blindly at the light assaulting his eyes.

  “I need you to relax.” The man’s voice was so loud he could feel it reverberate in his skull. “We are trying to help you. You’ve been in an accident.”

  Who was this man? Where had she gone? He needed her.

  “Wh-s-sh?” His voice sounded slurred and messy. He swallowed, trying to regain control over his words. He tried again. “Where… is… she?” He managed to rasp out.

  “She’s in the waiting room.” A soft voice assured him. He slowly opened his eyes, giving them time to adjust to the light, hoping to keep the pounding in his head to a minimum. A pretty woman stood by his side and gently patted his shoulder. “You’ll see your mom soon, but first we have to fix you up.” He lifted his arm, trying to tell her that wasn’t who he meant, but she was already turned away. His mom was waiting. Only his mom. She was gone, or never was.

  The woman turned back to him and smiled. “Time to rest.” As soon as the words left her mouth, he began to feel very heavy. Within seconds, everything around him fell away replaced by a soft cloudiness.

  A peaceful quiet settled over him, a welcome change from the pain and chaos he just experienced. His muscles slowly relaxed as he floated into this warm, tranquil existence, breathing deep and steady as he tried to make sense of what just happened, but he struggled to put thoughts together. The synapses of his brain simply wouldn’t connect.

  What was he trying to recall? It felt important. He wanted to remember, but he couldn’t recollect… anything. There was only here, now. He drifted along in the misty abyss as it soaked into him, relaxing deep into his very core. His body felt light and heavy at the same time. He floated on air, but couldn’t move a muscle if he wanted. He simply was here at the mercy of the fog, unable to do anything except exist.

  Out of the denseness came a quiet, feathery sound. The clouds began to swirl and shift, changing color and shape. He watched, transfixed as they slowly gathered, becoming more and more solid.

  “Tho-mas.” The sound again. So soft he could barely hear.

  The swirling cloudy mass dissipated, slowly revealing the source of the sound. It was her. She stepped close to him, her body unaffected by whatever was holding his hostage.

  “Thomas.”

  His name was barely a whisper across her lips. Her long dark hair softly caressed her shoulders as it shimmered in a light that seemed to radiate from her. She bent over him, the chestnut strands spilling over his cheeks like a thousand dandelion seeds caught in the wind. He tried to raise his hand, he wanted to feel them slide through his fingers, but he was paralyzed. His body wouldn’t, couldn’t obey.

  She leaned closer, so close he could count the copper flecks scattered within the golden irises of her eyes. He felt her breath warm and sweet on his face as her lips slowly, tenderly brushed his.

  Then she was gone.

  He was alone.

  Was he?

  A mechanical beeping slowly became louder bringing with it an awareness of his surroundings. He took a deep breath. The cool air smelled of antiseptics and bleach aggravating his throat. His body was covered by a blanket that felt soft and worn under his fingers. Quiet murmurs of faraway conversations joined the steady beeping.

  He fought open heavy lids, blinking slowly as his vision cleared. A dimmed fluorescent light above his head cast shadows across the hospital room. Heavy curtains were drawn across a window. No light edged its way in between the panels of heavy blue fabric. Nancy was curled in a chair in the corner, softly snoring.

  Dull pain radiated from his head and left leg. An IV stand loomed beside him, holding a bag of clear fluid. He watched hazily as drop by drop fell silently into a thin clear tube.

  Something happened. What, he wasn’t sure. He should wake his mother. Make her tell him, but he was so very tired. He blinked hard, trying to force himself to wake all the way up. Each time he blinked the urge to keep his lids closed became stronger. Soon, the fight to keep his eyes open became overwhelming. He relented, letting sleep take over.

  He is on the farm. The sun is warm on his face and neck. A quiet breeze ruffles his hair and pushes the green fields around at its mercy. He walks along the break between rows, taking long strides, sure of his destination. He can see the road. She is there, not running but walking slowly, her hair loose in waves that swirl about her head in the soft wind, catching on her lips before she gently tugs them away with delicate fingers. The gauzy white dress she wears alternately clings and billows around her form revealing soft curves and peeks of long graceful legs.

  He walks faster. His fingers ache with a need to hold her, stroke the smooth skin of her arm, press her body against his. He starts to run. Faster and faster, but the distance between them remains unchanged. His breath comes in heaves, one barely clearing his lungs before another shoves it’s way in. Desperation makes him push harder, but no matter how fast he puts one foot in front of the other, he remains fixed in place.

  Exhaustion overtakes him and he drops to his knees, hanging his head, defeated. As the burning in his lungs and legs subsides, he looks to the road, resigned to watch as she passes him by.

  Her gold eyes lock onto his as a soft smile eases its way onto her lips. She steps off the asphalt and slowly makes her way across the field, coming closer and closer, her eyes never leaving his. He’s frozen, hypnotized by the sight of her. Before he can blink, she is standing before him, her dress billowing around them. Slowly, she sinks to her knees.

  He’s waited so long to touch her, feel her skin, her hair, yet he hesitates, afraid touching her will again break the spell holding her here with him.

  “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” Regret fills her beautiful eyes and furrows her brow. Tears well along her lashes and threaten to spill onto the smooth skin of her cheeks. The sight of her pain steals the air from his lungs. Without thinking he reaches for her. As soon as he feels the softness of her skin under his palms, his stomach drops. He freezes. What has he done? He refuses to even blink, not wanting to lose even a millisecond of seeing her. He holds his breath waiting for the inevitable, but it does not come.

  She places her hands over his where they
remain gently cupping her face. Warm tears dampen his skin. “So sorry,” she repeats. “It was all I could do to save you.”

  Hazy memories slide through his mind, just beyond his grasp. Whatever happened, he was sure she would never intend to bring him pain. He pulls her to him, brushing his lips across her forehead, tangling his hands in her hair. Her soft sobs are like salt in a wound. He tucks her under his chin, wrapping her in his arms, pressing her soft body against his. “Shhhh. I’m fine.” He strokes her hair, rocking them gently as her tears soak into his shirt and the fabric clings to his skin.

  “Please be okay,” she whispers into his chest. “You have to be okay.”

  NINE

  Beep... Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep... Beep…

  “I swear to God.” Mina rubbed her eyes trying to ease the throbbing behind them that was keeping time with the endless beeping of the heart monitor across the room. The noise was wearing on her already fried nerves.

  The last two days left her drained, physically, mentally and emotionally, wandering through the day in a fog created by an adrenaline hangover, fear and guilt.

  And exhaustion. Can’t forget the exhaustion.

  Maybe the beeping was a good thing. The irritation it was inflicting might be the only reason she was still upright and currently the only conscious person in the room. That and this God-awful chair. She shifted against the rock hard cushion as she attempted to find a comfortable position.

  On the other hand, sitting here in the dimly lit hospital room with just the never-ending beep, beep, beep to keep her company was about to make her lose what was left of her sanity.

  She spent the past fifteen minutes sitting silently, staring at the floor and picking at her demolished cuticles, listening to that incessant noise and reminding herself she should be grateful to hear it.