Josh!
Daisy floored the accelerator. The Mercedes, unhappily goosed, leaped forward, and Daisy struggled to keep it in check. She went for the brake but missed somehow. The car continued to accelerate. Daisy held on tight to the steering wheel, her mind not moving fast enough to force her hands to turn it, just so overwhelmingly happy he’d come back at last, before she slammed across the curb, over the sidewalk, and directly into the corner of Aubrey’s house.
CHAPTER 25
Aubrey
Aubrey saw the car coming, recognized the lashes on the headlights, realized who was driving, all in the fragment of a moment before the car jumped the curb and barreled directly into her living room. There was no slow motion, no dawning realization that the accident was going to occur. The car appeared one second and smashed into the side of the house the next.
Winston began to bark, howling and frantic, and something mechanical in Aubrey kicked in. “Call 9-1-1,” she shouted at Chase, then ran around to the driver’s side of the car. The air bag had deployed. Aubrey could see Daisy leaned back into the seat, eyes closed, mouth agape, blood streaming from her nose. She was not wearing a seat belt.
Her hands were deathly still in her lap, and Aubrey was filled with foreboding. She tugged at the door, but it was locked. She ran to the passenger side—it, too, was secure.
Chase was talking into his phone, looking over at her wildly. She ran the ten feet back to him.
“Tell them we need an ambulance. She’s hurt really bad. The doors are locked, I can’t get in to help her.”
The car was still running, the purr of the engine altered, sounding more like a spitting, snarling beast. Daisy’s foot was jammed on the gas; the tires tried to gain purchase, grating the grass beneath them into a muddy mess.
“Hammer?” he shouted at her.
“In the garage.”
Chase tossed the phone to her. “Stay on the line, they want to hear more details.”
He ran back in the house. Aubrey put the phone to her ear.
“Please hurry,” she said. “I think Daisy’s badly hurt.”
“Do you know the woman in the car, ma’am?”
“Yes. Her name is Daisy Hamilton. She used to be my mother-in-law.” Aubrey heard the thin wail of sirens bleeding into the air. “They’re coming, I can hear them.”
“They’re only a minute away, ma’am.”
Nashville. An ambulance was always only moments away.
Chase dashed out of the house and down the stairs toward the car. He had a hammer in his hand.
“Wait, Chase.”
He glanced back up at her, and she pointed over his shoulder. The heavy grinding of the fire truck’s engine preceded the vehicle, and a moment later the wail of the siren grew to a fever pitch, and they pulled onto the street.
Neighbors were popping out of houses like groundhogs, eager to see what was happening. Aubrey heard murmurs and shouts and barely noticed that Chase had ignored her and plunged the hammer through the passenger window. The glass shattered, showering Daisy with small shards. She looked like she was covered in diamonds. Chase reached in and pressed the button that controlled the engine. The engine cut off, the growling stopped, and just as quickly, a fireman pulled him away from the car.
An ambulance rolled into the street, along with a white-and-blue patrol car.
Aubrey took Winston by the collar and dragged the panicky dog into the house.
“It’s okay, baby,” she crooned. “It’s all okay.”
She caught a glimpse of the living room. The car hadn’t torn a complete hole but had wrecked the wall. The lamp had fallen on the floor, and the sofa was five feet into the center of the small room.
“Stay, Winston.”
She went back out onto the steps. Chase returned to Aubrey’s side and put his arm around her shoulders. She couldn’t help it; she moved in closer. It felt so good to have someone hold onto her again.
They watched the melee. Daisy was fitted with a hard neck brace, brought gently from the car on a backboard, set carefully on a stretcher. Her eyes were still shut, the front of her tennis whites covered in thick red blood.
A patrol officer came to the steps and barked, “What happened here?”
Aubrey had to drag her attention away from Daisy—they were putting something down her throat and attaching IVs to her veins—to the officer.
“Is she going to be okay?”
The officer softened a bit. “They’re doing all they can. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know what she was doing here. She never comes over here. There was no reason for her to be here anymore.”
Chase tightened his hold on Aubrey’s shoulder. She was babbling, the shock of the accident taking over. He spoke in her stead.
“The car came flying up the street, directly into the side of the house. She didn’t brake, didn’t slow down at all. Almost as if she was aiming at it.”