Garden of Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

have a masochistic bone in his body, and he had an aversion to pain. Drinking led to pain; ergo, he didn’t drink. But he still ached.
    His head felt muggy. He heard voices, but he didn’t feel inclined to tune them in. If he didn’t think too hard, maybe he could drift back to sleep again. He could count line numbers in the banking program. That usually worked, if he didn’t get caught in a particularly sticky loop command.
    The voices jogged other memories. He winced and tried forgetting, but the memory slashed a fresh gash across his brain, and the wound still bled. How could Uncle Harry do this to him? He still couldn’t believe it. Maybe he didn’t trust people much, but Uncle Harry? Harry had been closer than a father to him. There was something wrong with this picture, only he couldn’t put his finger on it.
    Finger. Fingers. On his forehead. Cool ones. Smooth and slender. JD instantly jerked back from whatever world he drifted in. The voice that spoke over his head had no resemblance whatsoever to Harry’s.
    â€œHe’s not feverish. The doctor said he’d come around soon. Go ahead and finish your hamburger. He’ll be all right.”
    JD didn’t think so. He thought he might die first. Imps of hell pounded sledgehammers in his brain, and now that he’d been dragged back to consciousness, he realized his foot throbbed and ached as if he’d pulled it off and stuck it back on wrong. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d hurt worse. Maybe that time when the horse threw him... Or the day he slammed the bike into a tree. But that had been a long while ago. He was too old for those stunts now. Remembering the son he hadn’t known he had, he groaned. Entirely too damned old.
    The cool fingers slipped away, but he sensed their owner hesitating beside him. He didn’t suppose he’d see the face of an angel if he opened his eyes. His luck didn’t run that way. But a she-devil might be just up his alley.
    Wincing against the pain of movement, JD squinted into the dim light of the room. The slender figure outlined against the glare through the window blinds reminded him of someone, or something, but he didn’t strain his brain remembering.
    â€œAwake?” she asked quietly, stepping farther away, almost out of his sight.
    He tried nodding and realized the mistake at once. He closed his eyes again. “Jackie?”
    â€œHe’s wolfing down a pound of hamburger right now. I’d say he’s fine. Can I bring you something to drink? The doctor said you shouldn’t eat anything just yet.”
    He thought he heard a trace of amusement in a voice almost as slender as the figure he’d seen. Or could voices be slender? Thin? Tinkly? He concentrated on the words rather than the sound.
    He definitely didn’t want to eat anything. He didn’t particularly want to sit up either, but his mouth felt like the inside of a toaster. “Beer?” he asked cautiously.
    â€œNot likely. This is a dry county. How about Coke?”
    He grimaced and regretted the effort. “Water.”
    JD had managed a semi-sitting position by the time Jackie bounded in with a tall glass of ice water. The mysterious voice had evidently closed the window blinds, and he could open his eyes a little better. He still couldn’t focus on Jackie without narrowing them. “You all right?” he asked gruffly. He hadn’t yet acclimated himself to this tall young man who claimed him as father. He’d certainly set a hell of an example so far. Lack of paternal behavior must be another of those genetic flaws he’d inherited.
    â€œI’m fine,” the boy acknowledged. “It’s you they sent spinning off the road. The bike’s dented, but the engine still starts. I don’t know about the computers, though.”
    The computers. Oh, shit. JD sipped the water and nearly gagged. Tap water. Or worse. But he was too thirsty