Free TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) by Celina McKane Page A

tell me when I was little. “Good-bye my heart.”
    I put the syringe into the tube that came out of her chest and pressed down on the plunger. “Good-bye Mom. I love you.” When the syringe was empty, I pulled it out, put the cap back on her tube, and tucked it underneath her. Then I put the syringe in the same container as the needle and knelt back down by the bed. I laid my head down on the pillow next to her once more and listened to her breathe. The tears ran silently from my eyes as I lay there and her breaths became shallower and long, agonizing seconds stretched out in between them. They were agonizing for me anyways as I waited for her to die. It was less than ten minutes later when she slowly pulled in her last breath. I waited for the exhalation, but it didn’t happen and I knew she was gone. My quiet tears turned into deep, heart-wrenching sobs, as I wrapped her up in my arms and held her for the last time.
     

CHAPTER TEN
    TYLER
     
    It was a few days after the accident before I was alert enough to really grasp what had happened. My thoughts were jumbled up in my head, and I wasn’t sure what was real. I knew that I was in the hospital. I remembered that Sam had been there, but not Dad and not Ariana—and I knew why. First, I had killed my own mother, and then Dad threw me out of the house. Then I’d gotten drunk with Brandon, and now Brandon was dead. They probably all hated me. It was all so surreal; I wished that none of it was real.
    When I first woke up in the hospital, I had just come out of surgery. I’d had a dislocated shoulder, a broken femur, a few broken ribs, and I’d lost my spleen and had a chest tube for a few days while my punctured lung healed. None of that mattered though when I finally got them to tell me what happened to Brandon.
    A sheriff deputy came in to talk to me and told me that I had been thrown through the windshield and landed about twelve feet in front of the car on the pavement. That would explain all of the cuts and abrasions on my chest and stomach and arms. Brandon had his seatbelt on. When we impacted the tree, the car had crushed him, killing him instantly. The cop asked if we had been drinking, and I told him honestly, yes. There was a part of me that was hoping they would arrest me, a part of me that needed to be punished for killing my mom and my best friend. The cop said they knew Brandon was driving, and since he was the one that caused the accident, there wouldn’t be any charges brought against me.
    “Can you do me a favor?” I asked the cop before he left.
    “What’s that?”
    “My mother died right before all of this happened. Can you call the mortuary for me and find out when her services are?”
    “Sure,” the cop said with a sympathetic look in his eyes. I hated that. I didn’t deserve the man’s sympathy. I didn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. A little while later, the cop came back and said, “It’s today, son, in a couple of hours.” I started to climb out of the bed. “Whoa, I don’t think they’ve discharged you yet.”
    “I’m not missing my mother’s funeral!”
    “Okay, stay in the bed for a second and let me get a nurse.” I watched the cop leave and then climbed out of the bed. There wasn’t a spot on or in my body that didn’t hurt, ache, or throb. I could barely hold myself up, as I searched the room for my clothes. I finally found a plastic bag that had the shirt and pants I’d been wearing the day of the accident. I pulled the shirt on over my head and looked down at it. It had holes in it and it was all bloody. I struggled with getting my jeans on because I couldn’t bend over. I had staples in my abdomen and shoulder, stitches in my face and arms and chest. I was a freaking mess…but still better off than Brandon and Mom.
    I finally got my pants on and started looking for my shoes when the cop came back in. “I thought you were going to stay put.”
    “My mother is dead. I’m going to the funeral.”
    “You