Sand Angel

chapter Eleven


Thump. Thump. Thump. The repetitive sound was like giant bird wings. Zoë couldn’t tell if it was coming from outside her body or from within her head until she felt the sting of sand and a flood of warm air surrounding her. Helicopter. The pounding only added to the splintering pain in her head. She ground her teeth together.

From past experience she didn’t dare open her eyes for fear the morning sunlight would slice through them like a knife. Add to that the uncomfortable pressure that squeezed her midsection and the fact her right wrist felt weighted, Zoë knew she was in trouble. The familiar sensation of ice water rushing through her veins revealed she was connected to an IV. She couldn’t lift her hands or turn her head—neck, arm and even leg restraints.

Great. That’s all I need. A whimper of distress pushed from her lips.

“Easy, Miss Davis.” Someone, a paramedic she concluded, slipped an oxygen mask over her mouth. A cool gush of air filled her lungs. “Do you know where you’re at?” His gentle voice did nothing to calm the turmoil churning inside her.

Zoë’s body ached like she’d been hit by a truck. Of course, what more could she expect after doing a full-gainer over the bike’s handlebars?

When am I going to learn?

A deflated sigh pushed from her lungs. A sharp pain caught in her chest. She fought to breathe. It burned.

Please don’t let it be a broken rib.

“Glamis.” Her voice came out muffled. She knew the drill. “I had an accident. Head hurts, ribs sore, but I’m okay.”

Yeah. Right.

After leaving Josh at the restaurant, Zoë had headed to the campsite, determined to get the hell out of there. More than angry, she was primed when a rider on a Kawasaki pulled up beside her and revved his engine. A cocky grin plastered across his face.

“So you wanna race, big boy?” The desire to wipe the sand up with this guy was strong. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t him and it wasn’t a desire—but a need. Zoë was an adrenaline junkie. There was no way she could walk away from a challenge, especially in her heated condition.

The memory rolled through her head. Sand sprayed from their back tires as they both floored it. Everything was going well, she was just about ready to take the lead when a rider and quad came from out of nowhere. The rest was something of a blur.

She remembered jerking the handlebars to the right, swerving to miss him. Behind her there was a sickening screech of metal striking metal. Screams. She turned her head to see what was happening.

One minute her wheels were on solid ground. The next—nothing. She caught air, the sand more than ten feet below.

Immediately, an epinephrine rush hit. The stimulus to her heart was amazing. It was a drug, a high that she lived for. For a moment, Zoë felt invincible. Unconquerable. Invulnerable. That was until the ground rose swiftly to meet her. The bike’s front wheel bottomed out, pushing the shocks all the way down. Next thing she knew she was doing her rendition of Evel Knievel. The sudden stop catapulted her over the handlebars. Thankfully, that’s the last thing she recalled.

Tears welled in her eyes but she fought them. When had she become such a dumb-ass? Truth was, she was getting tired of the pain but she couldn’t help herself. She was always looking for the highest mountain, the fastest track, the greatest experience.

The blood pressure cuff around her biceps began to firm, getting tighter and tighter. Dammit. She had to get out of here.

Zoë swatted at the oxygen mask. “Get this thing off me.” She raised her eyelids to see a young man dressed in white with black-rimmed glasses, hovering over her.

“Ma’am, you need to keep it on,” the ambulance attendant insisted.

“Now,” she growled. The effort it took to speak hurt like a sonofabitch. As the man reached for the mask, she glanced over his shoulder. In the distance, Josh broke from the gathering crowd, running toward her. His ashen face was something she didn’t want to deal with—not now.

“Sis, hold still.” His brows tugged together as he fell to his knees beside her.

“I’m okay. Just a bump on the head,” she insisted, even as nausea threatened to crawl up her throat. She struggled to drag in another breath. Her eyes were watering, stinging from the dust and sand and emotion that refused to be restrained.

“Miss Davis, you were knocked unconscious,” the paramedic explained.

Zoë prepared herself for the effort she knew it would take to talk. “It’s not the first time.” She tried to laugh, but the ache in her side stole it away. “Won’t be—last time.” Please, God, don’t let Josh see how much that hurt. She batted her lashes at falling tears. “Nothing a couple of aspirin—” the breath she sucked in wedged somewhere in her throat, “—and a shot of tequila won’t cure.” Her humor fell flat as Josh cursed, wiping the tears from her face. She didn’t need his sympathy—she didn’t need anyone’s. “Josh, get me out of here.”

Josh reached for her hand and squeezed. “Zoë, please.” She’d never heard such a sorrowful plea in his voice. “Let ’em take you to the hospital and check you out.” The worry in his eyes made her cringe. This was the reason she never contacted her family when she got hurt. Of course, he was right about the hospital, especially if she expected to leave tonight. No way did she want to place other people’s lives in jeopardy because of her stubbornness. The continuous flap of helicopter blades told her that someone had already gotten hurt.

Dammit. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was a race, just like any other race. Instead of showing her true feelings, the fact that she cared, like always Zoë turned to sarcasm. “So, genius, if you’re riding with me to the hospital, how are we getting back once they discover it’s just a bump on the head? Taxi? Here in the desert?”

Color flared across his face, revealing Josh hadn’t thought that far. “Uh…I’ll have Drew follow us.”

“No.” Her abrupt response caused a burst of heat behind her eyes. She paused, gathered her strength. After the agony subsided, she said, “You follow. I’ll be okay.” She glanced at the paramedic’s blurry name tag. “Tell him, Smith.”

Smith nodded, pumping the blood pressure bulb so hard she swore her arm might fall off. “Like she said, it’s probably nothing, but it’s best to make sure.”

Josh hesitated, then pushed to his feet.

God love him. Even with all his interference, Zoë knew he cared. How could she stay mad at him? “How fast can this meat wagon go?” she asked as Smith and his female partner raised the gurney and slid her into the ambulance. Faking a smile, she added, “Can I drive?”

An uneasy chuckle squeezed between Josh’s thin lips. “Better tighten those straps or you’ll be in for the ride of your life.” She heard him add, “I’ll be right behind you, Zoë.”

“Lock and load,” Smith yelled to his partner and the door slammed shut. With a jerk, the ambulance lunged forward.

“Man. I hate hospitals,” Zoë groaned.





Fortunately the outcome was as she predicted. A mild head injury and bumps and bruises from thinking she could fly without wings. Nothing serious—this time. Luck didn’t last forever. How much longer would hers hold out?

The nurse pushing Zoë down the hallway was nice enough, but it was humiliating riding in a wheelchair when she had two perfectly good legs. Instead of meeting Josh in the waiting room, Zoë would have given anything to have her rig outside. She didn’t rely on anyone. With shaky hands, she clutched release papers and her boots in her lap. The nurse had given her a little pair of blue booties to wear.

Bottom line, Zoë was scared. She’d had the last three hours strapped to a backboard to think about things. Riding was her life, she loved it. It defined her. She wouldn’t know who she was without it, but it had become a crutch. What hurt the most was the discovery that what had happened between her and Drew had been an excuse for her behavior. She had no one to blame but herself. She’d been weak, unable to deal with his “rejection”.

It was time to make a change, time to get her life back on track. How did one do that when the past looked her in the eyes? Drew stood beside Josh. His stare was intense as his gaze swept over her. She got the impression he was taking inventory, counting fingers and toes. He needed to look beyond the obvious because it was brain cells she was missing. She knew better than to take her eyes off the road.

Josh shifted his feet nervously. The sheepish expression on his face told her that he expected her to explode the minute she saw Drew, but she didn’t have the energy. Soul searching was tiresome and her body ached. All she wanted was her bed.

Drew kept his distance. Josh moved forward, leaning in to envelop her in a big bear hug. Damn him for being so good to her. Zoë fought tears threatening to fall. She wouldn’t cry.

“Look at you,” Josh whispered. He released her to stretch to his full height. His fingertips hovered over the bandage on her forehead where a goose egg lay beneath. “Zoë—”

She eased her head away. “Scraped and bruised but good as new.” Her attempt to soften the moment didn’t work. Her chin quivered as she fought control.

“This can’t go on.” As his mouth opened to continue scolding her, she pushed out of the wheelchair, making him take a step backward.

“Josh, don’t go there.” Without another word she headed for the sliding glass doors.

“Miss Davis,” the nurse called out to Zoë, but she ignored the woman. Instead she scanned the parking lot for Josh’s truck.

The day had gotten hotter. A sultry breeze teased her long hair. She could feel the heat of the asphalt through her booties. The rough surface made itself known with each step. The smoky scent of someone barbequing from a nearby neighborhood filled the air. Her stomach growled, a reminder she hadn’t eaten today or most of yesterday. She needed something before taking a pain pill, which she fully expected to do once she got back to her trailer. No need to fill the prescription the doctor gave her. She had plenty in her bathroom cabinet.

Josh’s crew cab truck was parked a stone’s throw away. As the click of Josh unlocking the vehicle sounded, Drew walked up to her and took her boots and papers from her arms. He opened the backseat door. She didn’t hesitate to crawl into the truck. To avoid the awkwardness of having Drew next to her, she lay down. He stood there for a moment. The heat of his stare burned her. Slowly, he closed the door and moved to the front seat and got in.

The oily scent of diesel permeated the cab as Josh started the engine. “We passed a Walgreens down the way. I’ll stop there to fill your prescriptions.”

“No need. I’ve got what I need.” She rolled over on her side, back facing them. The leather seats were soft and enveloped her in their rich scent.

“Uh…what about the other thing?” Josh asked.

Her brows tugged together. Other thing? A smirk touched her lips. She’d almost forgotten about the tampon comment she made earlier. “No. Just take me to my rig.”

“Hungry?” Drew asked. His husky voice held a tremor she felt deep within, abruptly shattered when Josh hit a speed bump, making her stomach pitch.

“No.” She buried her face in her arms, praying she wouldn’t get sick. That was all she needed—to appear even more helpless. She wanted the security of her trailer, a place where she didn’t have to pretend.

“Well, sis, you’re gonna eat something if I have to force feed you.” Determination lowered Josh’s tone.

“No fast food,” Drew interjected. “She doesn’t need anything greasy.”

Zoë didn’t want to think, much less argue. She remained quiet as the truck pulled to a stop. While Josh and Drew discussed what to order, she adjusted her body, finding a more comfortable position. Only one door opened and slammed shut. The engine continued to run, the air conditioner humming, blowing cool air. Who remained behind?

“Zoë?” The hesitancy in the way Drew said her name warned her that he expected to discuss something she’d rather not.

She pinched her eyelids closed, feigning sleep. They didn’t need to talk and they certainly didn’t need to discuss things when her emotions lay so close to the surface. If she could just hold on a little longer she could put Drew Thompson behind her.

Zoë reveled in the minutes of silence that followed. Thank God. She’d dodged another bullet.

“Baby, you got the situation this morning wrong.”

Evidently, she didn’t dodge fast enough. Every muscle tensed, increasing her discomfort. Not to mention, her rein of control slipped as tears filled her eyes. “Please. Not now, Drew.” Not ever.

No more was said until Josh climbed back into the truck. “She asleep?”

“No.” Clearly she hadn’t fooled Drew.

Digging through the sack, Josh said, “Zoë, I got you chicken soup. Get up and eat it while it’s hot.”

Zoë uncurled herself. Every strained muscle screamed with resistance. She barely held back a moan as she reached for the Styrofoam cup he handed her along with a plastic spoon. She removed the lid, steam floating off the top as she inhaled the delicious aroma. Pressing the cup to her lips, she took a sip. It was hot, tasty. They say chicken soup is good for the soul. She doubted it would help if she bathed in the stuff, but she did have to admit it felt good flowing warm down her throat.

Another drink and she glanced up, finding both men watching her intently. Her arched brow brought them both around. Before long the smell of hamburgers filled the cab. They ate in silence as they headed for the Dunes.

Roaring engines, the smell of oil, gas and dust made Zoë feel right at home when they pulled into camp. It was closing in on one by the clock in Josh’s truck. Everyone was back for lunch and heading right for them.

Before she could open the door, Drew was there, assisting her out like she was an invalid. Trent was the first one to her side. Drew reached for her, but wasn’t fast enough. Trent wrapped his arms around her. She noted he didn’t squeeze her like he usually did and for some reason that irritated her. She wasn’t a damn porcelain doll.

“My bike okay?” she asked, patting him firmly on the back.

“I took care of it for you, doll. A busted fender, scratched, but engine still runs.” He left an arm around her shoulders. “Man, you scared the shit out of me. By the time I got back from my ride you were gone. I didn’t know where they took you.” He cradled her like he would never let her go. “Now how about I escort you back to your trailer and take care of you?” His brown eyes were filled with concern.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of her.” Drew moved next to her, scowling at Trent with enough heat to fry an egg. A cloud of tension formed around them.

“Neanderthals,” she huffed, ducking beneath Trent’s arm. The quick movement sent pain through her ribs. She grabbed her side and groaned.

“See what you’ve done,” both Drew and Trent said in unison to each other. If it didn’t hurt so much, Zoë would have laughed. It was Josh who came to her rescue.

“Let’s get you settled, sis.” He moved past Drew and Trent and followed her to the trailer. She made it up the steps and inside without any further confrontation.

Without being told to, Josh began to undress her, carefully easing her jersey over her head. He touched her so gently it was as if a fist tightened around her heart. She had to do something to chase away the unwelcome sentiment.

“Looks like you know your way around a woman’s body,” she joked.

“Shut up.” He chuckled. “I’ll help get your riding gear off and then you’re on your own.”

“No tucking me in bed?” She smiled down at him as he knelt, stripped her pants off, leaving her in an exercise bra and a thong.

He looked up at her. “If I do anything, I’ll tie you to the bed to keep you off that damn bike.” She laughed, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. As he got to his feet, he said, “Tomorrow I’m driving you to Phoenix. You’re staying with Mom and Dad.”

The hair on Zoë’s neck rose. Red-hot anger flared across her face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

He didn’t back down, glaring at her. “Dammit, Zoë. This has gone far enough.”

She tried to calm herself by inhaling slowly and releasing her breath even slower. “I know that you’re concerned but Dave over-exaggerated.”

“Over-exaggerated.” He swept his heated gaze up her legs, over her exposed body. “Look at you.” He trembled. “You’re scraped and scarred.” He swallowed hard. “I know about your hospitalizations.” He choked on his next words. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come.” He paused for only a minute. “Sis, I don’t want to lose you.” The truth was in his misty eyes. She had never seen her brother cry. Never realized how much her actions were hurting him. Were her parents suffering as badly?

Zoë couldn’t speak. She snaked her arms around his waist, buried her face against his chest and wept.

He held her, not saying a word. His tears fell, mingling with hers. She was thoroughly shaken by the time he released her.

“You need to rest,” he said, turning his back on her as he wiped his eyes on his jersey’s sleeve.

“I’ll be okay,” she attempted to reassure him.

He nodded and made haste out of the trailer. She watched him through the window as he avoided Drew and went straight to his quad. His hands were shaking as he slipped his helmet on, dropped his goggles over his eyes and tore out of camp. Clearly, they were sewn from the same cloth, both running when things got tough.

Zoë felt drained. All she wanted was to sleep. She knew that when she awoke, nothing would be the same.