hole in the center of his forehead.
Travis looked away, trying to block the image from his mind. Visions of his wife and his two-year-old son stared back at him through the darkness. He was never going to hold her in his arms again, never see his son grow old.
A sob tore from his throat. His body trembled in anguish. “Please, God,” he prayed, then allowed his tears to flow. The battle drifted off into the distance. His heartbeat, loud and hard, was the only sound he heard. And it soothed him, blossoming a peace he’d never known.
Desire, strong and true, filled him, and he opened his eyes. The strength he’d thought had long abandoned him had returned. That, along with sheer determination, forced him to use his arms and pull his body in a slow crawl across the field, where he’d hoped to find safety.
His vision faded in and out of focus, but he kept going—and believed he would see his family again.
Chapter 10
“W hat a night.” Carissa sighed as she closed her front door and slumped behind it. What in the hell was she doing? She’d dug a nice little grave for herself, that was what. Now how was she going to get out of this one?
The door pushed open from behind her and she jumped away in surprise. When her aunt eased her head inside, Carissa eyed her with astonishment.
“Please tell me you’re not just getting home.”
Helena smiled and closed the door behind her, but before she responded, she cast a futile glance over her niece’s attire. “I see I’m not the only one just getting in.”
“I spent the night at the hospital. Where were you?”
Helena smiled wickedly. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Carissa shook her head. “You’ll never change.”
“Change? God forbid. I’m in the prime of my life. And unlike you, I’m still determined to find my Prince Charming.” She sashayed past Carissa, whistling.
“What are you talking about? You’ve been married six times.”
“Yeah. Come on, lucky number seven,” Helena sang, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the coffeemaker. “Good. I see the maid service cleaned up the mess.” She opened a cabinet.
“Wait,” Carissa commanded.
Her aunt pivoted with her brows raised in curiosity. “Is there a problem?”
“Do you know how to work a coffeemaker?”
“Give me a break.” Helena laughed. “How difficult can it be?”
“I’ll do it,” Carissa insisted, before taking over the task.
“Whatever floats your boat.” Helena shrugged off the insult, then sat on the stool by the credenza. “Now tell me what on earth kept you at the hospital all night?”
Carissa’s back stiffened. “There’s nothing to tell. I went to see about Mr. Edwards’s condition.”
“And it took all night?” Helena’s disbelief echoed in her voice. “Are you sure Junior doesn’t have anything to do with your extended interest in this situation?”
“His name is Nathan. And don’t be silly.” Carissa shook her head, but didn’t dare turn around to meet her aunt’s gaze.
Helena laughed. “You have to do better than that if you’re going to try to lie to me, sweetie. Don’t forget my maiden name is Cartel, too.”
“Be that as it may,” Carissa said as she hit the brew button, then turned to face her aunt, “you’re still barking up the wrong tree. What I’m dealing with is just a tremendous amount of guilt. It’s nothing more than that.” She sat next to Helena with a tight smile.
“Guilt, huh? Now what do you have to feel guilty about? From what I’ve heard, you’ve been known to eat businessmen like Edwards for breakfast. Why the sudden concern?”
“Because I’ve never been responsible for any of them lying in a coma.”
“You’re overreacting and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. Excuse me for growing a heart.”
Helena held her hands up in surrender. “Touché. I apologize. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on in that busy little head of yours. And believe me, I’m not the least
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