End

“Ma, stop crying she’s fine.”

“Who could have done this? I don’t understand it, Richard.”

“It was an accident.”

Jamison kept very still as she became aware of the ambient noise around her. Her mother and brother were vocal as always, not so much from her father, but that was typical. He only spoke when it was important. She so didn’t want to open her eyes and explain. The censure in her mother’s eyes—the bloody murder in her brother’s...yeah, she could avoid that for as long as humanly possible.

Jerry was a shit, but he didn’t need to be murdered. Well, not by anyone but her.

“Who would hurt my baby girl?”

“I’m sure it was just Jamie driving too fast, Ma. Pops, can you…” she heard shuffling as Richie handed off their mother to her father. She could smell his musky Old Spice and cigarettes, her mother’s powdery smell, then her sniffles faded as they sat down across the room.

Richie’s heavy boots clicked on the floor then faded as well. Jon hadn’t told them. They had no idea that it was Jerry that had caused the accident. Awareness, like a caress, blindsided her, startling her enough to open her eyes.

Jon stood in the doorway, his wild hair couldn’t decide between brown or blonde, curls or frizz. His gaze was heavy with worry, censure and something she couldn’t quite name. Richie stood behind him, his hand clasped his shoulder. The moment was broken as Jon looked up at him. “Looks like the brat is awake.”

Irritation killed the rest of the stupid knots that had rolled through her. “I told you I was fine.”

Richie pushed Jon inside. “Sure you are. After two hours of surgery to fix the puncture in your spleen you’re just fine.”

“She scared the fu—uh, crap out of me,” Jon said and smiled toward her mom. “Hey Mrs. S.”

Her mother and her wide, sprayed nest of dark hair came into view. Her dad’s long, craggy face split into his infectious smile, his spidery fingers were wound around her mom’s tightly. She’d obviously scared them.

Again.

She met Jon’s eyes, his fingertips brushed the side of her hand before he stepped back. “I’m glad everything’s fine. I’ve got to get back to the studio before we lose all our paid time.”

“I’ll be in tonight.”

Jon shook his head. “I think you’ll probably have to sit on that one. She’s determined to get to her show tonight.”

As if on cue, three girls filled the doorway. “Dammit, Jamie, what the hell did you do to yourself?” Steph rushed to the bed, pushing Jon aside.

He lifted two fingers to his brow and saluted. She looked up at her best friend and tried to smile. She glanced back at the door and he was gone. As usual. She tried again, forcing a smile on her lips.

“I swear, we’re changing your name to Crash.”

Richie sat down on the end of her bed. “Well you were using my car because you already wrecked yours. Seems like the perfect name.”

She growled. “Don’t even think about it. That accident and this one were not my fault.”

“Oh yeah? Just who’s fault was it?”

Jamie swallowed back a groan as she shifted on the bed. She knew Jerry wouldn’t bother her again. He was a weasel of the first order. “Okay, so this one was my fault.” She sat back and let her family gather around her.

Her sisters, perhaps not by blood, but they were sure as hell her sisters, flanked her right side, her family on her left.

Crash it was. Jerry could take his over the top prank to his grave, just as she would. She wouldn’t risk putting her family through any more pain. If there was a twinge of regret that Jon wasn’t there any longer, she’d shove it down.

It was what she did best after all.

She smiled up at Richie with a wink. “Got another car I can borrow?”