She waited for the car to pass her but it didn’t, perhaps waiting for a car to go by in the opposite direction. Or maybe the driver was texting. Brinley had learned to fear those people. They never seemed to pay attention to what was happening around them.
She craned her neck but couldn’t see any vehicle coming toward her that would impede the car behind from going around. Pedaling even faster, she pulled as far to the right as she dared without getting into the soft shoulder that would surely toss her from the bike. Now there was no reason for the vehicle not to pass her.
Sweat trickling down her back, she heard the roar of the engine and then felt a sickening jolt that tossed her into the air like the matador at a bullfight who had connected with the horned end of the animal. Fear rippled through her as she landed like a rag doll onto the pavement with a sickening jolt that rattled her teeth and bones. The first thing she registered was the pain in her legs, arms, and torso. The second was that gravel had dug into her exposed skin and dirt and blood dripped down her knees and palms. Dazed, she reached up and felt her helmet still in place and said a small prayer of thanks that it had protected her head even as the rest of her body had borne the brunt of the collision.
Anger surged through her tangled and bruised body. She’d given the driver more than enough room to go around her. Anyone who managed to hit her under those conditions with a deserted road and clear skies was a blooming idiot who shouldn’t have a license. As soon as she felt better she was going to give the driver a piece of her mind.
The car had come to a stop about ten feet ahead and was now just sitting there idling. Even in the other two accidents she’d been in the drivers had flown out of their cars to see if she was injured. The snippy one had even followed Brinley to the hospital to make sure she was okay. Now this asshole was just sitting there waiting for her to get up and climb back on her mangled bike.
What a jerk.
She waved her arm to try and get the driver’s attention but she couldn’t see him or her and she wasn’t sure they could see her from this angle.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice weak and shaky and her breath still shallow. The excruciating pain on her right side was making it difficult to get a lungful of air. “Can you help me? I think I’m hurt.”
Her bicycle lay about three feet away and the back wheel looked bent and damaged beyond repair. Even if she hadn’t been hurt she wouldn’t be riding it anywhere. She had her phone in the pack around her waist and she should probably just call and have someone pick her up since right now she didn’t trust herself to be civil to the guy who had knocked her off her bike.
The driver still didn’t answer and Brinley was losing patience. She was sprawled on the road, in pain, pissed off. This accident was their fault and by God they needed to own up to it. With her luck it was probably some teenager that was now panicking and calling mommy or daddy asking what to do. Quickly she memorized the license plate in case the car drove off without helping. It hadn’t ever happened to her but hit and run wasn’t unheard of.
If she could get to the driver’s window she could force the person to acknowledge the incident whether they liked it or not. She tried to push herself to a sitting position but her head swam and the world tilted dangerously. She fell back onto the pavement, a pain shooting up her leg that made tears well up in her eyes.
“Hello?” she yelled again, this time as loud as she could, wincing as the sound reverberated in her skull. Her right ankle and hip was beginning to throb with pain and black dots spotted her vision. “Can you please help me?”
Still no answer and that was weird. In fact, the entire situation was strange. There should have been no reason for anyone to hit her and yet they had. Now they wouldn’t get out of the car to help her which was equally bizarre.
The vehicle finally lurched as the driver put it into gear. Backup lights came to life and anger morphed into fear in that instant. The driver was going to put the car into reverse and she was lying right in the path of its bone crunching wheels. Brinley sucked air into her lungs as her heart pounded like a timpani in her ears.
The accident hadn’t been one at all. He’d meant to run her down and now this lunatic was going to finish the job. How annoyed he must be that she didn’t die on the first try. The whole thing with the murder and the house came down to this moment. Someone might want in the house but they wanted her dead too. They’d succeed if she didn’t do something.
Move!
Her limbs shaking with terror, she used her already ripped up hands and feet to drag herself toward the side of the road where she could roll down into the ditch. A shaft of stunning pain shot up her leg that almost took her breath away but she gritted her teeth, determined to ignore anything but the voice screaming in her ear to get away.
Tears leaked down her cheeks as the car engine gunned, almost splitting her skull open with the booming sound. The last bit of strength in her battered body used up, she made it to the shoulder of the road, the soft earth a cushion on her abraded flesh and rolled as far as she could down the ditch, but not nearly far enough to protect herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to watch her own demise, but the vehicle came to a sudden squealing stop a mere foot from where she lay. The tires spun and the car peeled away from her, spitting gravel in the air, rocks and dirt pelting her as it raced down the road.
Another car seemed to come from nowhere and she didn’t even have the energy to flag the driver down. Her guardian angel must have been working overtime because the vehicle stopped and the driver frantically ran over to her, kneeling down while pulling out their phone and calling 911.
“An ambulance will be here in a minute, young lady,” the elderly man said, patting her hand. “Just stay still and try not to move. What happened? Did you fall?”
Brinley shook her head and winced at the pain in her shoulders and back. She felt like she’d been beaten with a baseball bat and by someone who knew how. She’d be feeling this for days. “That car that just left hit me.”
The man’s bushy brows shot up. “Hit and run? I wish I’d gotten the jerk’s plate number.”
“I got it.” She looked up into the man’s kindly eyes as her vision blurred and the dark spots showed up again. “I got the number.”
Brinley tried to keep her eyes open but the effort was simply too much. She let the blackness take over, shutting out the pain and fear, not wanting to even contemplate what she’d have to face when she woke up.
Things had gone from bad to really and truly awful.
*
Adrenaline pumped through Jason’s veins as he launched through the emergency room entrance and straight up to the front desk. Since receiving West’s phone call fifteen minutes ago, Jason had been in panic mode. Someone had tried to kill Brinley and had almost succeeded.
He hadn’t been there to protect her and that was his fault. He’d heard her moving around this morning and getting ready for her ride but he’d stayed in bed like the coward he was, not wanting to deal with the issue hanging between them.
Brinley was right. He was a chicken-shit.
He’d been using his past as a shield because he was afraid of love and committing to one person. Hell, she hadn’t even asked him about the future but he’d been miles ahead of her on that one, already worrying about something that might never even happen.
His gaze darted around the waiting room and landed on Logan who had been leaning against a wall, but on seeing Jason straightened and came to his side.
“Just relax. She’s going to be okay. West is back with her getting a statement. I told him I’d wait for you out here.”