Closing Costs by Liz Crowe Read Free Book Online

old desk. The air conditioning made her shiver as she slid into a conference room chair. "No, it's not the immaculate conception. Yes, I realize the baby has a father. No, I don't know who he is. Yes, it could be Jack. Okay Dad – now will you please stop harping?" She winced, tried not to let him hear her groan while readjusting herself in the seat. Her heart pounded. "I'm gonna go. You're stressing me out. Yes, I love you too, bye."
    Dropping the phone to the table, she laid her head down, the cool surface of the granite soothing her overheated skin. After a few minutes, she figured she would survive and stood. A sudden wave of dizziness coupled with a rush of nausea forced her back. The baby rolled, hard. "Ow." She put a hand on her stomach, suddenly scared. "Hey, um, is anybody out there?" A bright white bolt of pain slammed her between the eyes. "Holy shit." Her feet went numb and the room dimmed. "Help?" She grabbed her phone, using a familiar number on reflex.
    "You okay?" Jack's deep voice rumbled through her psyche, calming her just as her heart started pounding, racing really, making her breathless. She looked down. A puddle had formed at her feet; her legs were drenched. The liquid was a deep red.
    Not good.
    "No," she whispered. "No. I'm not."
    "Where are you?"
    "Office. Ow! Shit!" A band tightened around her middle, clamping down on her lower back and abdomen with so much force it brought tears to her eyes.
    "What? Why aren't you...? Never mind. Call 911. I'm around the corner. Be right there."
    The phone slid from her hand, landing in the pool of blood on the floor. A tidal wave of pain and nausea bowled her over. She could not get a breath. Her chest ached. "I can't feel my hands." She stared at her fingers, wiggling them, amazed, in a haze of agony. "Help." She tried to stay conscious. Her last memory was of arms cradling her and the sound of a deep voice.
    "Stay with me Sara. I mean it. Somebody call a fucking ambulance already!"
    "Jack?" She whispered as the room went black.
     
     
    Craig dismounted his bike, tucked the helmet under his arm and stretched. Two late nights of studying plus three gigs that week had taken their toll. His whole body thrummed with fatigue. The sight of Sara's black BMW in the lot made him frown. She was supposed to be off her feet.
    The minute he stepped into the back office hallway, Craig sensed something wasn't right. He dropped his helmet on a desk and started to the front, ignoring the strange emptiness of a normally busy summertime real estate office. A sharp, coppery odor stung his nose, making his heart race. As he sprinted around the corner separating the conference room from the open office area, he heard it. Just a soft moan, then the slam of a door, then nothing. His ears started buzzing and his stride lengthened but the hall suddenly felt like ten miles of empty road.
    As he approached the large conference room door he stopped, hearing only the sounds of his own breathing and laughter from the storefront side of the office, but he sensed her there, somewhere.
     "Sara?" His throat closed up when the knob wouldn't cooperate but he wrestled it open. His first thought upon entering was that someone had spilled red paint all over the carpet. Once his brain fully registered the scene, he saw her, half under the table, curled in a ball and moaning. "Dear Christ, Sara." He sat down, grabbed her hand, pulled her into his lap, then watched in helpless horror as her eyes rolled back, felt her body spasm with a terrifying seizure. "Stay with me Sara. I mean it." He glanced up. Pam and Chris stood in shock, phones in hand. "Somebody call a fucking ambulance already!"
    As Sara's body calmed, he brushed her hair back, no longer caring he sat in a pool of her blood. His ears roared but he kept his voice soft. She opened her eyes, tears dripped down her cheeks.
    "Jack?"
    He smiled, kissed her nose, the cloying odor of blood and fear clogging his brain. "No honey. It's Craig. Try to