Page 119 of Saving Grace

“So I don’t come off. I’m not going to be a burden to my family.”

He shakes his head and sinks into his seat, as if defeated. He slides the chart across his desk and steeples his fingers. “Have you considered another line of work?”

“Haveyou?”

His lips purse together. “All I can do is educate you on the risks and facts. What you choose to do with the information is up to you.”

“Are we done?” I snatch up the cane.

He simply nods, and I’m out the door like the room is on fire. Reed stands when he sees me. I blow past the receptionist, heading for the door.

“Mr. Rawlins?” she calls from behind me. “Ah, your account?”

“Send it out!” I slam a hand onto the door and burst onto the sidewalk. Fresh air sinks into my lungs and I fight to keep it there. Fuck.

FUCK.

Jaw clenched tight, I stalk for Reed’s truck.

He rounds me at a jog and pulls the door open for me.

Fuck my life.

I clamber into the truck as Reed slips around the grill and slides into the driver’s seat.

“Take me the fuck home.” I release a breath.

He starts the truck and pulls away from the curb. We break the town limits before he speaks.

“Not great news, I take it?”

“Nope.”

“What did he say?” He glances from me to the road, alternating his gaze like a skittish gangster.

Sweet Jesus.

“Gettin’ back on a horse is not recommended. Overdoing it, is not—FUCK!” I punch the dash.

“You’ll come back. You did last time. If anyon?—”

“What if I can’t? Don’t? What then?” I’m yelling. It’s not his fault. But this feels like the last fuckin’ straw.

“Then we’ll figure something out.” His brows are pulled down. A far cry from the cheeky bastard who was full of himself thirty minutes ago. “Grace will know what to do.”

Instantly my anger fades, replaced by the worry that was gnawing at my gut before I walked into the doctor’s office. Theoverload of emotions has my blood invading my skull at a rapid rate. Dizziness creeps in. “Drive faster, gunny,” I choke out.

The F250 bursts into a roar. We fly down the highway until we turn onto the gravel road. He sends the truck along and every minute that passes ratchets up the tension in my body. Muscles tense to rigidity, molars grinding. I grip the door handle, willing the ranch to come into view. Reed sends her round the corner and sideways into the driveway, and I let out a breath of relief. No white Volvo.

He skids the truck to a halt, and I fly out the door before the engine splutters out. Reed is hot on my heels.

Then I see it.

Tire tracks.

Not Reed’s.

Not Blue’s.

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