Читать книгу Midnight Disclosures - Rita Herron - Страница 9

She had to tell Mark about the baby.

Claire Kos punched the accelerator, flipped on the windshield wipers and wove her way through the late-evening traffic. Mark couldn’t leave on some dangerous mission without knowing she planned to accept his proposal, that she’d be waiting for him when he returned.

She understood his need to serve his country. He’d been raised by a military father, had grown up on a base himself. He’d been born and bred for the armed services, a true hero. His reasons were all very noble.

And she knew she was being selfish. But what about her and their unborn child? What would happen to them if he didn’t return?

Telling him won’t keep him from leaving.

She gripped the tiny silver frame she’d bought as a going-away gift in her hand. He could take the frame with him, and if he couldn’t make it back for the birth, she’d mail him a photograph to put inside. That way she and their child would always be with him, wherever he went.

Thunder clapped in the gray sky, the rain rushing down in a torrent, the shadows of the night closing in around her. A hurricane warning had been issued on the coast of Florida, the torrential rains already unleashing themselves on Atlanta.

Reminding herself that she had another life to consider now, a baby to protect, she eased her foot off the accelerator, but another pair of headlights behind her, set on high beam, nearly blinded her. She blinked and righted the wheel to correct for the curve in the road, but a horn blared as an oncoming truck roared toward her. She skimmed the edge of the embankment, spotted the bridge ahead and panic slammed into her.

Behind her another car honked, speeding up on her tail. She skidded on the wet pavement, her Jetta hurling into a tailspin. The passenger side scraped the side rails of the bridge and sparks flew from the car as it careened down the riverbank, grinding over the muddy earth. Glass exploded as she nosedived into the Chattahoochee River.

The air bag exploded, trapping her against the seat. Spots danced before her eyes, and panic knifed through her arms as a stabbing pain shot through her temple.

She had to save the baby.

Water seeped into the car, the current lapping at the windows. She jiggled the seat belt to escape, pushing at the air bag, but the seat belt was stuck. Red water swirled around her.

Blood.

Her stomach cramped, a spasm of mind-numbing agony gripping her. She cried out, tears running from her eyes. The red faded into black. Then darkness. She reached for the tiny picture frame and clutched it in her hand.

Dear God. No. She was losing her baby. They would both die. And Mark would leave the country without ever knowing that she’d planned to accept his proposal.

Or that she had been pregnant with his child.