A Rose Revealed Read Online Free PDF

someone had pushed him. “Rose! You saw this?”
    “Well, I didn’t actually see either explosion. I had my back turned. That’s why I was knocked down on my face instead of my bottom. But I saw the fire.” I started to rub my aching forehead only to wince when I dragged my fingers over the lump. “Oh, yes, I saw the fire.”
    “Rose, I don’t know what to say.”
    I shrugged. “I’ve seen terrible things before. Scraping up people after accidents or shootings isn’t exactly pleasant. But I knew Sophie.” Again the welling of tears. “And there were all the lights and the static from the radios.” My voice faltered and fell silent. I gripped my hands and pressed them to my chest. I started to tremble again.
    Jake reached out and took my hands in his. He pulled them down to his knees and began to rub his thumbs absently over the backs of them.
    “You mentioned the lights and the static before.” He looked at me closely. “Why did the lights and static affect you so much? You’ve seen lots of revolving lights and heard lots of radio static in the course of your emergency runs.”
    “Rhoda,” I said in a whisper.
    “I thought her name was Sophie.”
    “It was. But it reminded me too much of Rhoda.”
    He shook his head in a flash of irritation. “Rose, you’re rambling again. Who’s Rhoda?”
    “My sister.”
    “Was she with you? Was she hurt?”
    “Rhoda’s dead. She’s been dead for fifteen years. This just brought it all back.” I started to sob. “I’m sorry. I feel like such a baby.” Normally I rarely cried, but tonight I couldn’t stop.
    “It’s okay,” Jake said. “Memories can be very painful things.”
    I glanced at him through my tears. His memories must be excruciating at times. I wondered which hurt him more, the memories of running freely through the fields, legs pistoning, effortlessly swallowing up distance, or of the agony and nightmare of rehab? And I cried harder.
    Somehow I found myself on Jake’s lap again, his voice gentling me, his hand soothing me. I don’t know when I realized that I wasn’t crying for the past any more. I wasn’t even crying for Sophie and Ammon or for Jake. I was crying for myself and the fact that it had been fifteen years since anyone had rubbed my back and told me everything would be all right.

Chapter 3
     
    I stood beside Jake’s chair and sniffed, I hoped discreetly. My nose was stuffed and runny at the same time, and I still wanted that box of tissues. But thankfully my weeping seemed over though my head ached and my eyes felt like mere slits.
    “I’d better go,” I said, sounding all cloggy, like I had a major head cold. “I’ve given you enough trouble for one night.”
    I reached for the car door, my movements slow and lethargic. I had run on an adrenaline high all through the aftermath of the explosions and the police interviews. This experience of intense energy and acute mental clarity was nothing new to me. It occurred each time I ran with my emergency crew, each time I dealt with the unexpected at some accident scene. The adrenaline was even responsible for my hysterical collapse. Too much juice. As a result, I couldn’t cope with my usual calm.
    Equally familiar was the concomitant languor that struck with the draining away of the adrenaline. Now I had all the energy of melted ice.
    “I need to get home,” I repeated.
    Jake made a noise deep in his throat, one that said don’t be dumb. “Mom wants you to come in before you go.”
    I thought of the way I must look, the way I felt. “I don’t think so.”
    Jake continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And you’re in no condition to drive anywhere anyway. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
    Immediately I stuck my hands in my pockets. “I’ll be all right.”
    Jake made that throaty sound again.
    “Don’t threaten me,” I said, but with no heat. I hadn’t the energy to get angry. What I was was embarrassed. I’d made a blithering idiot of myself in front of Jake and