She’s so out of it. Worry spears me, and I gently run my hands over her. She has a goose egg above her temple. “I’ve got you.” I kiss her forehead. “I love you so much, Rory. Stay with me.”
How have I not told her sooner? She means the whole fucking world to me.
I yell to Frank over my shoulder. “Did you call the cops or an ambulance? Rory’s hurt.”
He wipes the rain from his face. “That’s gonna cause all kinds of problems, Jace. Maybe we can handle this quietly. I’m not sure Niles wants?—”
“Fuck Niles. Call the cops, Frank. And get a goddamn ambulance, or you’re fired.”
His eyes widen, but he nods.
55
RORY
Groaning,I turn in bed. After Edmond knocked me over the head, he must’ve thrown me into the trailer because I have aches and pains all over.
I rub my head where a baseball-sized lump juts out. Turns out I don’t have a concussion. I passed out from shock. But I’ll have this nasty bruise for a while.
Jace was by my side all night in the ER. When I got released this morning, he checked us into a hotel so I could get some rest and he went to the police station to give his statement.
The TV is on. “Good news, Tulsa. The rain should be letting up later today, so hang tight. If you’re just tuning in, we had an EF3 tornado rip through town last night, destroying several buildings. Fortunately, there were no fatalities.”
That tornado missed us by one block. Jace was out in the rain, searching for me, when he should’ve been hunkered down somewhere safe.
My heart swells with gratitude for him.
“This weather is terrible,” Susan says from the couch as she shakes her head.
“Thank you for driving up last night.”
She waves a hand. “It was no trouble. I heard you were hurt and jumped in my car. To think you were so close to that tornado!”
“In a way, I’m grateful I didn’t know what was happening or I would’ve been terrified,” I admit as I try to sit up.
“Oh, I think it’s time for your pain meds.” Susan pours me a cup of water from a pitcher. “Let me grab your pills.”
“I don’t think I need them.” I’d rather stretch and ice my bruises.
“Nonsense. The hospital gave you the good stuff.”
“But then I can’t help with Layla.” I peek over the edge of the bed where she’s napping in her pack and play.
“I’m on baby duty for the next two days, so you relax.” She hands me the pills and the cup of water.
“I really don’t want these.” I try to give them back to her, but she hangs her hands on her hips.
“Fine, but you need to hydrate.”
I pause with the cup halfway to my mouth. She smiles and moves back to the couch, and I take a sip of the water, but it’s salty. “This tastes weird.”
“Could be your head injury. I’ve read that this kind of trauma can make food taste odd.”
Really? “I don’t have a concussion.”
She shrugs and picks up her knitting needles. “Maybe the water here is salty.”
“Maybe.” I put the water and the pills on the side table and crawl out of bed.
