Page 39 of Drive Me Crazy

A warm sensation radiates offmy face, rousing me awake. My body is so relaxed, I refuse to open my eyes. I lie here, wallowing in a cloud of fluff and comfort.

The morning breaks with a soft light creeping through the billowing curtains. I don't want to move from this spot, and I linger as long as my body will allow.

I clutch the pillow in my arms, claiming it for eternity. For some ungodly reason, I feel safe wrapped in the coverings on this bed. A fortress from the world and the shame that comes with it.

The aches and pains of the last few days are setting deep in my bones now. I want to stretch, but the fear of agony defeats me. As my eyes focus, I fall back into what is my life.

I throw the comforter back and will myself to sit up. No sooner am I upright, my phone pings. I glare at it on the nightstand. So close, yet so far. Lazily, I lean over grabbing it from the surface.

My throat is scratchy and dry, I clear it as best as possible and answer it with a raspy tone. "Hey."

"Good morning." Scout sounds cheery today, there's a lilt in her voice. "I hope you slept well."

I hold the phone to my ear, and curl back up. "Too well, if you know what I mean."

"Can't complain about that kinda feeling."

"This bed is utter heaven; I could stay here all day." I sink deeper into the fluff of bedding. "I can't tell you how badly I want to stretch but I'm afraid to."

"They say the third day after a car wreck is the worst, or at least we tend to treat as though it is."

"Every muscle in my body hates me right now, I don't plan on doing anything to make them even more angry." My jaw pops, leaving a heaviness in the pit of my stomach.

Scout sucks in a deep breath. "Ouch! Please tell me you didn't break anything."

"Naw, just my jaw making its presence known." I giggle. "At least it's working, right?"

"Right, but I'm not laughing."

I clear my throat. "Me either."

"I'm getting ready to leave for work and wanted to give you a heads up on a few things we're working on." Scout's words are no louder than a whisper. I don't enjoy talking about this either, but it's a necessary evil.

"You sound like you're about to apologize." I gasp as I sit up in bed, wrapping my free arm around my ribs. "Fudge crackers and cheese grits, that hurt like a close cousin to a witch!" Now she giggles. "What?"

"I can't wait until you rip into a profanity filled rage of anger and tell us how you really feel."

"One day but probably not until I break old habits." My brows knit.

"Habits? More like rules and regs." Scout huffs. She's right, Weston didn't allow me to use vulgarities, but I often thought them.

"So true. You were saying?" I don't want to spend the time regaling Weston's attributes or lack thereof.

"Landon tossed your old phone; we'll get you a better one today. The attorney said they'll be filing papers as soon as the clerk's office is open, and the PI can't find Weston. We should assume he's already here." She rolls through the list like a doctor would before surgery. I suppose she is cutting out a growth of sorts.

I rub my temple, as a headache like no other is coming on. "I never doubted he'd come here, but I hoped removing the sims card would've thrown him off. So, he's filing divorce papers?"

"She... it's Reese Pennington, Walker's wife. She works with Lea at her shelter and she's damn good."

I lift my brows. "I need good, he's going to fight me every step of the way."

"Actually, if we can catch him, it'll be a cakewalk."

Again, the pounding in my head rings in my ears. "How's that, Scout? No one has ever been able to do anything to him; his family's money has gotten him out of everything."

"One will be over today; he's bringing the PI and you'll have a lot of answers. Reese is coming with him, so you need to be ready for her too."

"Oh, come on. I look like death or at least ran over by a rig." I run my fingers over my face.