She Walks In Moonlight (Second Chances Romance Book 1) by Jennifer Silverwood

Author:Jennifer Silverwood [Silverwood, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SilverWoodSketches
Published: 2017-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

11

Running Up That Hill

I woke up with visions of a shirtless Adam King dancing around my head. Though since I hadn’t seen him shirtless since high school, the fantasy in my head was the standard male chest on the cover of every romance novel. Memories were fuzzy at best, the result of too much alcohol. Oddly enough, Adam featured most prominently in quick, brooding snippets, interspersed with a friendly Hailey King. It was difficult to say what I’d made up after the fact and what had happened at dinner last night. And it was even more embarrassing that I was hungover from red wine.

I sat up and held my head in place so it wouldn’t fall off. “I must be crazy.” I slid out from the tangle of bedcovers and glanced at my terrifying reflection before leaving my room. I was surprised the kids hadn’t woken me until I heard the melody of cartoons downstairs. Clearly, they had helped themselves to a little Saturday morning awesomeness.

I was heading downstairs for a cup of coffee when I heard retching sounds coming from my brother’s bedroom. Ignoring the pounding in my head, I opened his door and rushed inside.

“Peter?” I saw the bathroom light was on, and lying on the tile floor, just in front of the toilet, was my brother. I cursed and shut the door behind me. The kids didn’t need to see this.

I stumbled as I knelt at his side, ignoring the trail of vomit on the floor leading to the bathroom. The toilet bowl was streaked red with blood. Peter’s skin looked wan, and his hair stuck slick to his head.

“Shit.” I pressed my hand to his scalding forehead.

Peter looked up at me as I grabbed a towel and tried to clean off his face. “Sorry you had to see this, baby girl,” he choked.

My vision blurred, and I held him as he heaved over the porcelain again. I shook my head and stared at the mess around us. “Shit, this is bad.”

Peter moaned and collapsed in on himself. I tried to pull as much of his weight on me as I could. It was too easy, and reality knocked the breath from my lungs while my brother clung to me and cried silently.

“It’s okay,” I heard myself whispering. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” I shushed and whispered reassurances in Russian, and when that wasn’t enough, I hummed songs our father used to sing to us when we were kids.

I knew Peter was sick, but I hadn’t understood, not really. Peter had always been the strong one, so when he’d told me his cancer wasn’t as bad as Papa’s had been, I believed him. I was sick from more than the stench of bile and blood then. I was sick of my own selfishness. Even after coming home for him and the kids, I had spent most of my time caught up in King drama. I’d even let myself feel bitter and angry with Peter for keeping things from me about Adam.

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