Page 3 of Where Love Lies

“Your car isn’t in the best shape either,” I gesture toward the smoking SUV, wondering if he forgot he was part of this wreck.

“Nah, she’ll get us there.”

“Mom, I don’t feel good,” she sobs. Shit, I really need to get her looked at. Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need his help. But he needs to understand that I’m not making this easy on him, not the least bit. He hurt my kid, and my car.

“Fine, you can take us to the hospital. I’ll call a tow truck on the way,” I finally give in.

I open Paige’s door and see that she’s still holding the rag on her cheek. From the color of the cloth and all the blood soaking in, it looks more like a purple rag.

“Come on, he’s going to give us a ride to the hospital.” I help her out, noticing the powder from the airbag sticking to her hairline and arms it makes her look in worse shape.

Paige doesn’t say anything as we slowly walk toward the SUV, keeping my arm around her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t fall. Opening the back passenger door for Paige, she boosts herself up and climbs into the back seat, resting her head on the headrest. A somber pull at her natural beauty, she places the rag back on her cheek and glances at me with a forced smile. Pulling my gaze from hers, I get into the passenger seat and shut the door. It’s very clean in here, the dash shiny, and floorboards without a speck of dirt. The leather seats polished and without wear. I’d think he just drove it off the lot, if it weren’t for the steering wheel. The sides are worn and ragged from driving, pieces of it tattered. The smoke dancing around his hood and into the cab catches my attention, and my brow rises. Is he sure he can even drive this the way it is?

He slides into his seat and shuts his door, his hands resting on the steering wheel.

“You sure you don’t need a tow truck?” I ask him, gesturing to all the smoke.

“Nah, I can fix it,” he insists, a bit of arrogance in his tone. He has to crank it twice before it finally starts then he glances over his shoulder before he pulls into traffic. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I hold it tight. Being in a strange man’s car is scarier than I imagined. Not wanting him to sense I’m uneasy, I Google a local tow truck company to come and get my car. They pick up on the first ring and I quickly give them the location and condition of my car. They assure me they’ll handle it and they’re on their way. It took a whopping five minutes to get that settled, and now I’m left sitting next to a man I don’t know anything about. Awkward silence fills the cab as the three of us sit confined in one small space, which causes my heart to race for a different reasons than just being in an accident.

“You wanna exchange information?” he casually asks, his words breaking through my panic. My eyes snap to him, without moving my head to look at the attractive man who hit my car, tended to my daughter and is now taking us to the hospital, despite what it’s doing to his car in its condition.

“Sure…” I finally respond.

He gives me his cell number and insurance information, and when I begin to tell him mine, he holds the wheel with one hand and swipes along his screen to enter it. Panicked, my hands rise, as if they’ll protect me from the dash if he wrecks or the car gives out.

“Whoa.” My heart begins to race as cars pass us with not much room to spare. “Umm, maybe you should wait until we get there?”

“Nah, I got it.” He clearly doesn’t sense my discomfort. We just got into a horrible wreck and with the condition his car is currently in, you would think he would be a little more attentive.

Closing my eyes, I focus on breathing and hope he’ll hurry the hell up and get off the phone.

He laughs, and I open my eyes to see what’s so funny.

“Why you got your eyes closed?” A boyish grin on his face shows off two dimples.

“I guess I’m a little gun shy about wrecking again.”

“I’m actually a good driver…well, except for earlier.” He rests one hand on the wheel, looking at me with endless blue eyes. An electric charge fills the air causing me to stir uncomfortably. Glancing over my shoulder at Paige, I say, “Are you okay back there?”

“Sure,” she groans, holding the rag on her face.

“We’ll be there soon.” I give a reassuring smile before hastily looking out the window wanting to avoid Heston’s cobalt blue eyes. The magnetic pull between us is confusing, and I don’t know how to dissect it right now. He’s so nice and calm compared to my ex-husband. If it where Cam he’d be yelling and kicking the bumper in a fit-of-rage. Sighing, I focus on what’s outside my window. The sun sits high in the sky, touching everything in its sight with warmth, and whispers the promise of a beautiful summer. Something Paige and me really need after the last two weeks.

We finally make it to the hospital. It’s huge, and on the far-left side, a construction company is adding on to increase its massiveness. The accident happened closer to our new place so I haven’t been to this particular hospital.

“Well, thanks for taking us.” I paste on an appreciative smile, nervously tucking a brown strand of my hair behind my ear. Getting out, I open Paige’s door and take her hand to help her down.

“Sure you don’t want me to wait? I don’t mind.”

“No, thanks, I have someone who can take us home. But thanks,” I lie, I don’t have anyone now that my mother is dead and that realization hits me in the gut a little too hard. I guess I can have Cam come get us, even though I’d rather walk in the desert without water or shade.

Closing the car door, I give one last friendly wave and take Paige inside. The emergency room smells like latex and citrus cleaner that’s almost as strong at the florescent lighting that’s beaming down on us as we walk over to the desk to get checked in. A robust woman, with breasts bigger than I’ve ever seen rest on the desk, smacks her gum as she types in Paige’s information. Raising her left hand, she scratches at her over-volumized black hair, still looking at her computer screen.

“Alright, if you can take a seat the doctor will be with you shortly.” Sighing, we turn away from the receptionist desk, only to find there’s no place to sit. Every dark blue chair is taken. It’s packed, but there doesn’t seem to be anything visibly wrong with the people sitting in them. Paige, who just got into a wreck, has a blood-soaked rag on her face, and they’re making us wait. I hate fucking places like this, instead of seeing patients by their level of injury, it’s first come, first serve. Meaning the woman across from us, who is on her phone laughing, will be seen for something as silly as elbow pain before Paige.

After two hours, we’re finally called back to be seen and Paige has to get twelve stitches.

Twenty minutes later, she’s all stitched up, we head back out to the waiting room and pray that, Cam, Paige’s dad, comes quickly. We’re standing outside, Paige leaning against a rock wall, when my phone dings.

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