Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It Read Online Free PDF Page B

staying strong for her sister and her son, when in reality she had been breaking apart into little pieces inside, and now she was about to shatter.
     
    She wasn't going to stick around and let Marcus see it happen because she had the awful feeling he would laugh. He definitely thought she deserved whatever bad luck came her way. He would probably get a real kick out of watching her fall apart.
     
    The bastard.
     
    She didn't see the crack in the sidewalk, but she felt it—right before pitching forward. She tried to break her fall with her hands, but the impact was too strong and her elbows buckled. She landed facedown on the pavement.
     
    The air whooshed from her lungs and she lay there in stunned pain.
     
    She couldn't see the sidewalk any better close up than she had while walking. For one thing, it was getting dark. For another, her eyes were too bleary with tears to see anything. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the traitorous moisture. She hated crying. It didn't do any good.
     
    Crying hadn't brought her parents back.
     
    It hadn't made one iota of difference in getting Jenny treatment.
     
    It hadn't lessened the pain of leaving Marcus.
     
    It hadn't diminished the terror of giving birth alone in the same hospital that housed her sister's still-fragile body.
     
    And it wouldn't help now, but Heaven above, she couldn't seem to stop. A sob welled up in her throat and broke free before she could muster She had to regain control.
     
    She had to stop crying.
     
    It was a litany in her head as she lay, strangely paralyzed, on the hard concrete.
     
     
     
    "Are you all right, Ronnie? Speak to me, damn it!" She hadn't fallen that hard, but she was crying and hadn't gotten up.
     
    What was wrong with her? Had she broken something? He didn't know what had happened in the restaurant. He'd set out to talk to her, to learn what he could about the possibility that she was selling corporate secrets again, and had ended up accusing her instead.
     
    She'd gone ballistic in a way he hadn't expected. Neither her reaction nor his actions were going to help him solve his case. He cursed inwardly as he examined her in the fading light for signs of injury.
     
    Her blouse had ridden up to expose the delectable curve of her behind in her jeans.
     
    "Say something, Ronnie."
     
    She didn't answer him but tried to push herself up.
     
    He pressed gently but firmly against her shoul-ders, refusing to allow her to move. "Don't squirm, baby. You might have seriously hurt yourself."
     
    She shook her head and pushed more insistently against his hands.
     
    He didn't relent. "You shouldn't risk moving."
     
    The subtle scent that was distinctly her wafted up and he wanted to brush his hands down her arms, caressing her soft skin through the thin cotton of her blouse.
     
    She sucked in air and let it out again several times. With each successive breath the shudders that indicated her sobs lessened.
     
    "I'm fine. Let me up."
     
    Her voice was still husky, but she had gotten her tears under control.
     
    Relief filled him. He didn't know what to do with her tears. They were so different from the usual cool demeanor she exhibited; they unhinged him a little. He shouldn't care that she was so obviously hurting, but he did. She might have done this to herself, brought about her own misery with her dishonesty, but he still didn't like it worth squat.
     
    At the continued pressure against his hands, he let her up, cupping her shoulders as he helped her turn and rise to a sitting position.
     
    Her expression was hidden from him in the fading light, but there was no mistaking the way she tried to move away from him. "Let me go."
     
    He shook his head and tightened his hands on her so she couldn't leave. "You might need medical attention."
     
    She laughed, the sound even more hollow than when she'd done it earlier in the car. Ronnie had not laughed often before, but it had always been genuine. The bitterness in the sound now