Page 74 of Tough Love

She smashes a hand over the mouse. The screen goes black, and she pushes the chair back. I brace against the desk with both hands.

“I’m so sorry, Huddy. I thought maybe you’d seen it? That Addy had already showed you.”

I blow a long breath and wait for the dizziness that threatens to swallow me whole to subside. I knew her accident was bad. I wasn’t prepared for how I would feel watching it. I slide to the floor.

Ma sits back in the chair. “She is a tough girl, your Addy.”

I huff a strangled sound.My Addy.

Ma checks her watch. “Where is she? It’s five o’clock.”

“She didn’t turn up. No texts, either.”

“Why are you sitting on the floor? Go and make sure she’s okay. God, if that low-life Justin made her stay back late?—”

“Shit!” I bolt up from the floor and rush from the study. I swipe my hat up and jog to the truck. Starting her up, I slam the stick into drive. It takes ten minutes less than usual to make it into town. I head to the clinic, but the lights are off and the doors are locked. Reversing out of the parking lot on screeching tires, I head to Addy’s townhouse.

Her car is in the drive.Good start.I park beside her Cherokee and kill the engine and race up the steps. The last hour still running through my head, I knock. The house is quiet. I knock again, louder.

No answer. Ruby went back to the city after Ma’s party, and I wish I had her number now. Maybe Reed has it. I round the house and try the back door. It’s unlocked. I walk in and remove my hat.

“Addy?”

No answer.

I walk through to the kitchen and living room. Nobody there. “Adeline!”

Something moves upstairs. I fly to the stairs and bolt up them, taking two at a time. When I swing around the banister and head for her room, she stands, gripping the doorframe. Swaying. Her face is far too pale. Hair a mess, and she is in stained pajamas.

Fuck, sweet girl.

“Huddy?” she utters. Her eyes are glassy and strung out.

“Yeah, beautiful, I’m here.”

I press a hand to her forehead. She’s burning up. When I scoop her into my arms, she cries out. Shit, she must have the flu, aching everywhere. I lay her back in bed.

“Addy, where’s your thermometer?”

She points to the floor. Downstairs. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

She probably hasn’t been to work today, possibly not yesterday either. Jesus, I wish she had told me she was sick. She was unwell and all alone. Nobody here to take care of her. I hurry back downstairs and rummage through the kitchen cupboards until I find her Tylenol and thermometer and grab her a glass of water.

I pull out all the drawers until I find a tray and head back upstairs. Shivering, she reaches for another blanket. I take the blanket and remove it from her hands. She whimpers.

“You are burning up. You need medicine, not a ton of blankets.”

I set the tray on the bedside and sit beside her. “Can you sit up for me, darlin’?”

She moans and I help her up, cradling her body against mine as I rearrange her pillows.

“You smell nice,” she croaks.

I chuckle. I smell of horse and sweat. “That’s the fever talkin’.”

“No, you always smell like this. I love it.”

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