Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Liz

"Be careful. That curb's a little high." Mr. Hillman wraps his hand around my forearm as he steps over the cement curbing in the parking lot.

"I see it," he mumbles, slightly irritated that I've pointed it out again.

Any other time we'd go for another couple of rounds, but tonight, we're calling it quits early. I don't know who's sweating more—me or him.

"Why don't we stop by the Circle K and grab one of those slushie drinks again? I'm sure it'll help cool us off."

"If you want to have blue lips and a blue tongue, go right ahead. I'll be fine with a water."

The last time we'd stopped off for something cold to drink, they were out of the pina colada flavor and the clerk had talked us into trying the blue raspberry. I won't argue that it was certainly very tasty, but it had taken two days for the coloring to go away. Even after I'd brushed my teeth three times. Mr. Hillman's daughter got a good laugh out of it the following morning—seeing the two of us sitting at the table eating breakfast. I must admit, we were certainly an eye sore.

"I don't know who designed this parking lot, but you've got one more step to get over—"

Mr. Hillman's hand slips from my arm the same time his legs go out from underneath him. He lands on the ground with a hard thump and curls into a fetal position. "Ughhh!" he moans.

I immediately drop to my knees beside him.

"Oh, God. Mr. Hillman, are you okay?" Tears pool in my eyes almost immediately. His painful groans send me into a wave of panic. I look both directions to see if anyone is close by, but my car is between us and the highway, preventing us from being seen.

I've spent years studying how to tend to accident victims and situations like this, yet, I can't remember what I'm supposed to do next.

"Liz—"

A pool of blood begins to collect on the pavement—his injuries far worse than I originally thought. I slide my phone out of my back pocket and place the dreaded phone call for help.

While we wait for the ambulance to arrive, I grab a bottle of lukewarm water out of the car. I hate to leave his side, even for a few seconds, but I know he's dying of thirst. I'm afraid to move him, considering the pain he's in, and end up spilling a good bit of the water on the both of us of as he attempts to take a few swallows.

"Help should be here any minute." I manage to say, my voice almost unrecognizable. Grabbing hold of his wrinkled hand, I gently rub the top of it. "I'm so sorry that you fell. I should've been paying better attention. I could've parked in the middle of the lot so we wouldn't have to cross over those stupid curbs." I sound like a muttering fool, knowing this could've all been prevented.

The paramedics work swiftly to examine Mr. Hillman and to get him loaded onto a stretcher. I help hold the gauze above his eye and walk beside them to the ambulance.

"Are you planning to ride with us to the ER, ma'am?" The senior medic asks before closing the back door.

"I can, yes. Let me grab my purse."