Free No Such Thing as a Free Ride by Shelly Fredman Page A

waiting for an answer. I hopped out too and felt a searing pain in my ankle as I stepped down.
    “Hang on there a second,” he told me, and lifted me up in his arms.
    “Nick, really, this isn’t necessary. I’m fine.”
    “You’re more than fine. Indulge me.”
    I made an involuntary noise, a cross between a sigh and an orgasmic moan and let him carry me up my steps.
    My across the street neighbor, Heather Koslowski was just getting out of her car with Mr. Wiggles. Mr. Wiggles is her dog, but she refers to him as her ‘boyfriend.’ Swear to God. Ignoring the fact that I was being carried “Windswept” style up to my house, she called over to me.
    “Hi Brandy. I haven’t seen you for a while. Want to come over and watch
What a Girl Wants,
tonight?” Normally I’d take her up on it, seeing as it’s one of my favorite movies, starring perky Amanda Bynes, but I already had what a girl wants, at least for the moment.
    “Um, thanks, Heather. Maybe next week.”
    Nick carried me over the threshold and deposited me on the living room couch. I took a quick look around. I’d left my bra draped over the banister.
Great.
And over in the corner was a box of old Barbie dolls I’d found in my bedroom closet and thought about donating to Good Will, but then Janine came over and we dressed them up and had a fashion show, and when I remembered how much fun they were I decided to keep them.
    “I’ve got an Ace Bandage in the truck,” Nick told me, heading out the door again. “I’ll be right back.” He glanced over at the box and grinned. “Barbies. Nice.”
    “Those are my brother’s. He’s really into fashion.”
    “Uh huh,” Nick said, and went off to retrieve the bandage.
    The instant Nick left tears welled up in me and began spilling haphazardly down my cheeks.
Oh Christ, where’s this coming from? Okay, so the day’s been a little rough, what with watching a kid die and getting the living crap beat out of me, but things are looking up now. Stop being such a baby.
    I sucked in a deep breath and swiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Nick came in at that moment and sat down next to me on the couch. He was holding a small first aid kit and some bandages.
    “You okay, Angel?”
    “What? Me? Pfft. I’m fine.”
That’s the Alexander spirit.
I flashed him a big old smile and split my chin open again. “Ow.”
    Nick carefully lifted my chin and inspected the damage. “You could use some stitches.” He opened the kit and extracted an antiseptic wipe and dabbed at the cut, covering it afterward with a butterfly bandage. Then he reached down and pulled my legs up onto his lap. Easing off my shoe he began cuffing my pants.
    Oh shit! How long has it been since I shaved my legs?
    Thank God he stopped at the ankle. Nick slowly rotated my foot. “There’s some swelling, but nothing’s broken,” he decided, only I wasn’t really paying attention. His touch was sending electric currents straight to my crotch.
    Too soon my ankle was wrapped and my legs back on solid ground.
    “You’re going to be feeling those bumps and bruises, if you haven’t started already,” Nick told me. “Where do you keep your aspirin?”
    “In the kitchen, above the microwave, only I really think I could use some chocolate. Studies have shown it helps in the healing process.”
    While Nick was getting the medicinal Hershey’s I put in a call to the hospital. Nurse Morrison was still on duty.
    “It’s Brandy Alexander,” I said, when she got on the line. “Listen, I know you’ve got rules against giving out patient information and I totally respect that. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about the girl who—” I stopped, choking up.
    “Who died.” Nurse Morrison supplied. “Dr. Sanchez vouched for you. She says you’re one of the good guys. What do you want to know?”
    “It’s just that I thought she was going to be okay. What happened?”
    “Miscarriage, in all likelihood caused by the drugs we found in her