Free Jordan by Susan Kearney Page B

much. All because of him. He wanted to take away her pain but he
     wasn’t sure how. So he did what felt right. Reaching out, he gathered her against his chest. “It’s going to be all right.”
    One moment he was holding her, the next, another of Vi’s memories hammered Jordan, dropping into his brain as if out of regenerated
     air.
    “Are we there yet?” Vivianne asked her parents. Belted into the back seat of their Prius, she sat behind her father. A cardboard
     carton of cranberry juice with a straw sat on a tray next to a plate with sliced apples and carrots, and peanut butter for
     dipping.
    Headlights from the oncoming cars on the four-lane highway kept lighting up her dad’s face. “Do you need a bathroom, honey?”
    “No. I just want to smell the leaves again.”
    Her parents were taking her north to see the leaves change color. So far, the leaves had been orange and red, gold and brown.
     And they smelled ripe, like Mom’s garden after a hard rain.
    “Look out!” her mother screamed.
    Her father slammed on the brakes. Tires squealed.
    Vivianne’s drink flew off the tray. Her carrots and apples spilled. Then she was turning upside down, then back up. The seat
     belt cut into her waist and shoulder. Metal crunched. Glass broke.
    Mom screamed and screamed.
    The screaming scared Vivianne. She would have screamed, too, but her throat froze.
    Vivianne’s head hurt. Her chest ached. And she couldn’t seem to breathe. The car kept flipping. Over and over. The horn blared.
     The air bags popped, and Vivianne choked on the powder.
    Mom had stopped screaming, and that scared her even more.
    Vivianne didn’t open her eyes until the car stopped skidding. “Mom? Dad?”
    “Sweetie,” Mom said in a sob. She was crying. “Are you okay?”
    “What happened?” Vivianne tried to unlock her seat belt, but her fingers didn’t seem to work right.
    A car pulled up, and headlights shined through the broken windshield. Their car was tipped sideways in a ditch. “Mom, your
     head. You’re bleeding.”
    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her mother kept saying that over and over.
    Vivianne finally freed her seat belt. She put her hand on her father’s shoulder. “Dad. Mom’s hurt. She needs you.”
    “Don’t look at Daddy, baby. Look at me.”
    Vivianne didn’t understand. Dad always helped her mom. Why wasn’t he doing something?
    “Mom?”
    Her mother reached up to the necklace Vivianne had given her for her birthday three years ago. She jerked it, snapping the
     chain. She loved that necklace. Wore it every day. Why would she break it?
    “I’m sorry.” Mom pressed the necklace into Vivianne’s hand. “Keep this, and remember how much we loved each other.”
    Her mother’s head slumped. Her eyes closed. With a horrible gurgle, a bubble of blood oozed from her mouth and her hand fell
     away from Vivianne.
    Vivianne clutched the necklace. She didn’t understand. She heard sirens. Saw blinking red lights. Strangers talking.
    “We’ll have to cut the little girl out of the back seat.”
    “The parents?”
    “Dead.”
    No. No. No. They couldn’t be dead.
    Hands reached for Vivianne. She tried to fight, reached for her parents. “Mom. Dad. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me all alone.”
    Jordan had to inhale a deep breath, tell himself that Vivianne had lost her parents a long time ago. But her pain… he didn’t
     want to feel her pain. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. And he most certainly couldn’t afford to give her his sympathy.
     He couldn’t afford to form emotional attachments that clouded his judgment. He’d made that mistake once, befriending Trendonis,
     a stranger whose betrayal had cost Jordan his world.
    But how could he not feel more for her after living her pain?
    At least he’d been an adult when his parents had died. She’d been only a child.
    He had no idea how she’d grown into such a strong woman. But he wanted to know. Had relatives raised her? Had she gone to
     a