A Harmless Little Game (Harmless #1)(49)

I inhale and smell Drew. He must have moved closer to me. The rustle of his jacket against his shirt releases a cloud of sweat and cologne that hovers over me. I should open my eyes. I’m sure everyone is looking at me. They are all waiting for me to tell them what happened. What really happened.

I wish I knew more.

I breathe in and out, savoring the scent of Drew. It’s hypnotic. Comforting. And all I want to do is make everyone else leave the room and have Drew take me into his arms.

Instead, I get interrogated.

“What do you mean you pushed the pedal, Lindsay?” Daddy’s voice is neutral. Too neutral. I know he’s trying to figure out what happened underneath the surface.

But here’s the thing. There is nothing going on underneath the surface. As far as I know, my brakes failed. Did someone make them fail? I don’t know.

It turns out I just said that aloud, because Daddy’s eyebrows go up. “What do you mean someone made your brakes fail?”

“Exactly what she said, sir.” The clipped way that Drew snaps the sentence makes all the tiny hairs on my exposed skin stand up at attention. I can feel Mom straighten her spine even though my eyes are closed. She must be turning, looking at Drew, who moves in a way that rustles his clothing again.

Now I hear him take one step closer to me.

I feel his warmth. And then I feel his hand resting against the blanket that covers my leg. His touch is fleeting, but it’s there. Drew is sending me a message.

And he’s about to send one to Daddy and Mom to.

“When we left the shopping area, Lindsay’s brake lights were on and fine. I did not observe any problems, sir. As we accelerated, she began to drive erratically. I called her and she told me her brakes didn’t work. We were on a stretch of highway that made it impossible for me to call emergency services and get aid before she would’ve crashed. I did call 911 to request assistance. I made a judgment call to pull my vehicle in front of hers and use it as a tool to slow her down. If the crash is anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“You didn’t cause anything.” Daddy waves his hand toward Drew. It’s a dismissive gesture. “Someone obviously tampered with Lindsay’s vehicle. We need to spend our time and resources on figuring out who it was.”

I open my eyes. Daddy is giving Drew a hard look. “Get your men on it now.”

“Yes, sir.” Drew is saying as few words as possible.

“Who would tamper with Lindsay’s car?” Mom asks. She’s frowning again. Her eyes dart to me. “Do you know, Lindsay?”

If I look at Drew, I’ll betray myself. What happened back at the dock has nothing to do with my brakes failing. There’s no way any of those ex-friends of mine tampered with my car. They wouldn’t know which piece to break. Tara barely knows the difference between an Audi and a Honda. She wouldn’t know how to make a set of brakes fail.

I let out a huge sigh. “I have no idea.” I swallow my mouth dry and then open my lips again to speak. I close them.

I was about to say that I haven’t been home long enough to piss anybody off, but that’s not true, is it?

A doctor enters the room and cranes her neck around. I can see her through my barely open eyelids. She’s short, and young, but she has a don’t mess with me look on her face.

“We need to give Lindsay a chance to rest.” The doctor’s imperial nature makes Daddy cock an eyebrow at her. She doesn’t cower. I smile. She reminds me of Stacia, back at the Island.

“Just a few more questions, doctor.” He makes it clear that he’s the one in charge in this room. The doctor ignores him, walks over to my bed, and picks up my chart. I wish they would all leave.

Everyone except Drew.

“Based on what I’m observing, Senator, you all need to go. I realize that you’re her father, but patient care takes precedence over these questions.”

Okay, she can stay, too.

“I’m sure that Lindsay’s medical care needs have been adequately met at this point,” Mom says, glaring at the doctor. “You do understand that her father is running for president. The car crash may very well not have been an accident.”

My eyes fly open and I look at Mom. Is she defending me? Or is she defending Daddy, and his right to continue questioning me?

“This can wait.” Drew jumps into the argument, taking the doctor’s side. Taking my side. Now I have two people who are for me, and two people who want to continue questioning me.

The irony that the two people who want to continue questioning me are my parents does not escape anyone.

“Patient care before investigations.” The doctor snaps my chart shut and turns, speaking to Drew. “You’re the security detail?”

“Yes.”

“Then as far as I’m concerned, you make the decisions about who stays in this room.”

“But we’re her next of kin!” Mom shouts.

The doctor’s eyebrow raises. “According to her chart, Lindsay is twenty-two years old.”

“And your point is?” Mom has a way of using condescension as if it were a scent. A weapon. Something tangible that you can taste. If condescension had a flavor, it would be my mother’s pheromones.

“My point is that Lindsay is an adult. She can assign power of attorney to whomever she pleases.” The doctor gives me a look that manages to be both compassionate and challenging, yet also remaining firm. “Do you want this room emptied?”