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Humphrey crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at me. The sirens suddenly shut off, leaving only colored lights flashing across his face and eerie silence.
“If there is anything you know that you’re not telling me, I will bring you in for obstruction of justice.”
The threat rolls over me like water. I don’t even care if he means it.
“People don’t usually just run off the road for no reason. Was the driver drinking?”
“I’m not going to comment on an ongoing investigation.”
My hand sweeps in the direction of the road. “There are fresh tire tracks over there that don’t match the path of the car. You see that?”
His gaze goes hooded and Humphrey takes a step back. “It’s time for you to go, Van Koch.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to ask anymore questions. The sheriff turns on his heel and stomps away, leaving me alone in the darkness.
A tow truck rolls up behind me and I’m forced to move out of the way or let it hit me.
I know better than to press for anymore details from the remaining deputies. More questions are going to give me away.
They’re going to give us all away.
These secrets aren’t meant to ever see the light of day because some people will kill to keep them.
This is Vaughn’s car. He has to be the male victim that got taken to the hospital. But the girl with him could have been anyone. It isn’t like he has a steady girlfriend. She could have been a random chick he took for a joyride. Crashing his car while showing off wouldn’t exactly be out of character, especially considering how he’s been acting lately.
But somehow, I just know that my luck isn’t that good.
Chapter Two
I don’t wake up in pain.
At least, not at first.
My vision returns before any of my other senses. When I open my eyes and see nothing but sterile white walls through the groggy haze of my blurred vision, for a second I think I might be in heaven. It takes a minute for the beep of machines and the inaudible murmur of voices in the hallway to filter through my awareness.
I realize that I’m in a hospital room at the same time as pain rips through me with the force of a speeding truck.
Agony doubles me over. It’s bad to the point that I dry heave into a little pink basin tucked beside me in the bed, likely there for exactly that purpose. My head feels like a balloon has been blown up inside of it.
When I smash the call button, it takes a small eternity for the door of my room to finally open. I’m not a theoretical physicist, but a great way to explain the relativity of time is by making someone sit in excruciating pain and then have them tell you how many minutes it took for a damn nurse to show up.
A chick who barely looks older than me bursts in with an annoyingly bright smile plastered on her face. She practically chirps out a greeting in a sing-song voice that does nothing to kill the pain in my head.
This has to be the beginning of her shift because nobody acts this cheerful at the end of their workday.
I manage to groan out a request for pain medication before I pass out again.
I’m not out for long. The next time my eyes blink open, the nurse is hovering over me with a syringe in her hand. She pushes the clear liquid into a plastic port on the back of my hand.
A few seconds later, I actually feel like maybe I won’t die.
Obviously noticing my relief, the nurse pats me on the leg. “I know it feels bad today, but you’ll be on your feet soon. Bruised ribs hurt like a son of a gun and you’re probably still nauseous from the concussion.”
The nurse rambles, telling me how lucky I am to be alive. Despite all the bumps and bruises, I escaped with no broken bones. When I first came in, the doctors were worried about internal bleeding, but the danger seems to have passed. They’re only keeping me here overnight for observation.
Bruised ribs and a concussion are nothing compared to what else could have happened. The car crashed into a tree at nearly full speed. I’m lucky that a tree branch didn’t fly through the windshield and impale me.
Then I remember that I wasn’t alone in that car.
