Page 57 of The Rough Ride

She lifted her head. “It was dark and so cold. If it wasn’t for Mac and that bomb dog, I wouldn’t be here. I don’t remember much after that dog licked my face and Mac gave me morphine. Sometimes, I dream about that dog. I don’t think they’re trained to lick a wounded soldier, but it whined and licked me that night as if I were its favorite human.”

“Why were you even there, Liz? You were an analyst. Your brains were needed elsewhere.”

“I had a gut feeling the intel was bad. I’m the only one who’d met the bad guy, so I’d recognize his face and mannerisms.I had to make sure before they put a missile in his basement. I insisted.”

He tugged her hand and kissed a finger. “Do you know where you are?”

She gave a nod. “Big4Less store.”

“Did you buy anything?”

“Yup. Diapers. Blue and chicken.”

“Can you tell if you’re injured, honey?”

“Head hurts, but I think I’m okay.” She swiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand. “I really hate it when shit blows up.”

“You crawled under a pickup truck. I’ll come to your side and help you shimmy out.”

“Still scared.”

“I know.” His heart twisted with compassion, and he shook his head. “But I promise to hold you close.”

“Okay.” She rested her face on her hand for a minute and started to move.

He moved to her side. “That’s it, just a little at a time, brace your foot on the tire and push off. That’s my girl.” Once half of her body was out, he tugged, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. “You’re out. I’ll stand and then pull you up, okay?” She trembled in his arms.

“Yeah. I think I’m okay. Just my head hurts.”

When they were both standing, he wrapped his arms around her. “There’s an ambulance a ways down in the parking lot. I’m going to carry you there, make sure you’re okay.”

“No. I can walk; hold onto me. Where’s my car?”

They took a couple steps together and walked slowly toward the ambulance.

“Your car is roasted, babe.”

“Damn,” she patted his chest with one hand, “I loved that car.”

“I know you did. You’ll get a new one.”

She stopped and looked across the aisles at the burned cars. “It was the first time I used the remote start since the dealership. Whatever happened tossed me over on this side. I remember crawling until I found something I could fit under.”

Nick took a whiff. No bomb material. He could identify that odor from ordnance training. Aside from the pungent burnt stench of auto parts in the air was the underlying scent of gasoline, lots of it. But four burned-up cars provided an awful lot of gasoline to ignite the next vehicle. He’d leave it to the professionals to determine the cause, but the situation rubbed him wrong.

They reached the ambulance, where the medics wasted no time checking Liz out. She had a nasty bump on her head and some bruising, but aside from that, they cleared her, leaving a trip to the hospital for full evaluation up to her.

The police and fire marshal both conducted short interviews while Liz sat in the ambulance nursing a bottle of water.

Once they had the information they needed, she looked at Nick and pleaded, “I want to go home and hold Ella and hug my mom. I want a hot bath and a bowl of soup. Take me home?”

“You betcha. Let me drive my truck over and pick you up.”

As he jogged to his truck he thanked his lucky stars that the senator had decided to stay in Texas another week because he had no intention of letting Liz and Ella out of his sight until he knew exactly what had happened to her car.

32

Justice was a dish best served flambé. The thrill of seeing those flames shoot high into the air would last the rest of her life. Liz should’ve considered the consequences before she’d allowed Jazz to die in the desert.

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