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Unless the person driving was a professional who has experience crashing vehicles. But I keep that to myself until I have substantial evidence. The last thing I want is for Detective Sanderson to think I’m paranoid. “So where do we go from here?” I ask.
“We're keeping watch for anything out of the ordinary with this case, but since there weren't any witnesses, it's unlikely we'll find out who's responsible unless they come forward. Wouldn't hold my breath on that one, though. If someone thinks they can get away with something like this, people will typically stay silent and pretend it didn't happen. I'm finalizing the report so you can turn it into your insurance company and start the claims process. Sorry I didn't call you with better news,” he tells me.
“It's fine. I appreciate your time, Detective.”
“No problem. You hear anything at all, let me know,” he says right before we end the call.
I set my phone on the couch and lean my head against the cushion. It's not comfortable, but no position in my current state is. I’m pissed off and frustrated that I'm so banged up and bruised. I reposition myself and lie on my side until my dad comes back from eating breakfast with Belinda.
A few hours later, Gemma and Tyler come over for lunch and bring pizza. I take the opportunity to tell them what Detective Sanderson said.
Disappointment covers Gemma's face.
“It's okay, Noah. I had full coverage on the truck,” Dad says. “We can get it replaced.”
“Thanks, Dad, but it’s not about that,” I tell him.
“Karma needs to work her magic,” Gemma says matter-of-factly.
Tyler quietly listens as we continue. When there's finally a break in the convo, he speaks up. “What do you think about this?”
I glance at him. “I think it was done with intention.”
All eyes are on me.
“Think about it. The gym. The bomb. Murderer being painted on my truck. This accident. After all of that, I don't think any of it's coincidental.”
Tyler nods as though he understands. It's not an assumption, though. It's my reality, even if it's a harsh one.
Silence lingers, then Dad speaks up and changes the subject. “Can't believe the grand opening is in six weeks. It'll be here before we know it.”
“I know, I'm so excited,” Gemma exclaims. “There's just so much to do still.”
With a grin, Tyler grabs her hand. “We'll get it done.”
Immediately, my old friend guilt returns, and Gemma notices.
“What's wrong?” she asks, studying me.
I let out a breath. “I'm upset I won't be able to help you guys, knowing the opening is soon. Every day I'm not there puts you further behind. It's frustrating as hell that things keep happening to me that are affecting everyone in my life,” I admit.
“Noah, it's fine. You taking two weeks off won't hinder us that much. When you're better, we'll have the rest of the back-ordered equipment in, so there will be plenty to do.”
“Two weeks?” I scoff. “I won't need that long. Probably just a week to recover.”
“You gotta stop doing that,” Gemma snaps. “You have to listen to the doctors. If they said two weeks, it's for a reason.”
I roll my eyes, but I know her concern comes from a place of love. “We'll see. Once my muscles no longer ache and I can walk better, I'll be there. Don't want to put anyone in a bind.”
I snag another slice of pizza as Dad mentions the weather. “Supposed to be warm this weekend.”
Tyler laughs. “Eighty degrees. Not looking forward to summer if that's the temperatures we're getting in the spring.”
“No shit,” I say. “Summer’s probably gonna be brutal.”
“Don't put that into the universe. I've heard how horrible being pregnant in the summer is. And I'll be huge at that point.” Gemma groans, and it makes me laugh.
After we're done eating, Dad cleans up, and we say our goodbyes. Once Gemma and Tyler are gone, Dad lets me know he's going to take a nap.
“If you need anything, you holler, alright?”
“Okay, thank you,” I say, knowing damn well I won't ask for help.
I take another pain pill, then slowly make my way upstairs. Once I'm in my room, I climb into bed and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get comfortable while watching TV. All I can think about is seeing Katie later when she gets off work.
A couple of hours pass, and soon, my door is being swung open. Katie immediately rushes toward me with a plastic bag in her hand. She sets it on my nightstand, then nearly topples me. I wince when I feel her weight against my body, and she apologizes, but it doesn't stop me from holding her close. I paint my lips across hers, wanting more of her.
“God, I've missed you,” I admit when she repositions herself and snuggles next to me.
