Admit One (Sweetwater Book 2) by Clark O'Neill Lisa

Author:Clark O'Neill, Lisa [Clark O'Neill, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2014-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE pounding woke her up. Raining again, Allie thought. Sometimes, when it rained really hard, it sounded like the pounding of horses’ hooves across the metal roof. It had scared her as a young child – she’d been convinced that they were ghost horses carrying haints, or maybe boo hags, trying to find a way in. She would lie there in her frilly, lonely room, until the fear grew so big that she bolted across the hall and climbed in bed with Branson. Will made fun of her when he found out about it, so Bran got in the habit of coming to her first whenever there was a storm. They didn’t have that sixth sense about each other that so many twins spoke about, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know each other inside and out.

Allie shifted, tried to open her eyes, and with the pounding came a sharp, searing pain. She cried out, but all that emerged was a sort of rough whimper.

Not rain, she realized. The pounding seemed to be coming from inside her head.

She held still, perfectly still, until the throbbing noise quieted a little, the pain easing off to a dull if persistent ache. If she didn’t move, maybe her skull would hold together instead of splitting into dozens of pieces.

Allie sniffed, an unpleasant scent crawling slowly into her nostrils so that they flared, and then pinched in revulsion. It smelled like the dank corner of the crawlspace under the house. Damp masonry, mildew, mold. Animal feces and decay. And something vaguely… yeasty. One time a raccoon had climbed in there and died, and the stink from it had eventually worked its way into the house. The stench now wasn’t quite that bad, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

She should tell Josie… no. Josie didn’t live with them anymore. They were all adults, and no longer required a nanny. Well, Will probably required a nanny, as he tended to be a slob and essentially useless in the kitchen, living primarily on coffee and peanut butter and jelly toast, but…

Will. She should tell Will to check out the stench in the crawlspace. She would do it herself – she wasn’t a baby anymore, after all – if her head didn’t hurt so much.

There were other aches, also. The floor – and she didn’t understand why she was lying on the floor – but the floor was really hard. And cold. Strange that it should feel so cold.

Her arm…she couldn’t feel her arm. She was pretty sure it had fallen asleep, seeing as how it was pinned beneath her body.

Had she fallen out of bed?

She didn’t want to open her eyes. They felt so heavy, and the last time she’d made the attempt, her head had tried to fall right off her shoulders. But she couldn’t just lie here on the floor. There was something…

Wasn’t there something she needed to do? A little voice in the back of her head was trying to make itself heard over

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