Page 136 of Crash Course
"It’s a valid point. The new office should help."
She nodded. "I think so. It feels . . . good. Like freedom. Does that sound horrible?"
"Not at all. I live and work with my family. It’s 24/7. I love them, but I like my alone time, too."
"Exactly."
She dug her keys from the outer pocket of her purse and gestured to her car. "I’d love to stand here with you all day, but I need to go."
That, he most definitely understood. He felt it too. The pull to be near her. Talk to her.
Touch her.
He ran one finger down her perfect cheek and then kissed the spot before easing back. "Call me later," he said. "Let me know how the day is going."
"I will. If nothing else, it should be interesting."
"Hang on," he said. "Let me put this in my truck. I'll walk you to your car."
"I'll be fine."
She turned, headed for her car and . . .
Boom!
22
A blast,like a bomb going off, not that Cilla knew what that felt like, but the sound,my God,the sound bounced off thick concrete supports and rammed her ears like a pickax.
Then she was airborne, her body lifting from the ground, an altogether surreal experience. Blood roared and her pulse throbbed—buhm, buhm, buhm, buhm. Then everything crawled, a movie in slow-mo as she flew through the air, her arms splayed in front of her while she peered at her car, her precious Quattroporte, fully engulfed in flames.
"Cruz!"
Ooofff.She hit the ground, landing flat on her back, her head bouncing off concrete like a coconut.
Ow.
What the hell?
A fierce ringing filled her ears. She winced, then lifted her hands above her face, trying to focus, but her fingers blurred and melded into each other. Pain ripped through her right shoulder and she dropped her hand, lifted the other to her ear.
What the hell just happened?
Everything hurt. Her legs. Her arms. Pain whooshed up and down.
Face.Her left cheek. Something warm oozed down the side.
She lifted her hand from her ear, moving it toward her cheek. Then Cruz’s face came into view just above her and he grabbed her hand. His mouth moved, but . . . nothing.
Only the ringing mixed with thatwha, wha, wha.
When his face distorted, she blinked once, twice, three times until he came back into focus. "Can’t . . . hear . . . you," she said.
Wha-wha-wha.
His lips moved again. ". . .. hear me? Cilla!"
Yes. She peered at his mouth, focusing hard while panic slithered, circling on the edges of fuzzy thoughts. A weird darkness crept in. Like a narrowing tunnel, slowly fading. "I . . ."
