Body Lock by Kimmie Easley Page A

happy now?”
    I tried not to laugh, but the way she was waving her tan arms in the air made me chuckle. But I was thankful that Megan’s reaction wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it to be.
    “It’s no big deal. I twisted my foot on the landing,” I attempted to appease my over protective friend.
    “I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re here because you swallowed a damn bug on the way down! It doesn’t change the fact that you’re in the damn hospital!”
    I propped myself up, ignoring the mounting pain jarring through my foot and up my leg. “Are you going to get me out of here or do I have to call a cab?” I shoved myself up from the gurney and hobbled across the room. I tried not to show the pain on my face, but the searing jab from the slightest movement was intense. Heat rushed through my belly. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out.
    I heard a defeated sigh. Megan couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t that she was the nurturing type; she just had a soft spot for me. Her charity case. She came over and helped me slip my sock over my foot, which now resembled a fairly large eggplant.
    The car ride home was more torturous than jumping out of the damn plane. Once we managed to get me up the four flights of stairs, Megan insisted on tucking me into bed. She handed me a glass of water to wash down the horse sized pain meds the doctor had prescribed.
    Scared they would numb the pain and cause me to forget, I slipped the pills under my tongue, waiting to toss them in the trash.
    I can’t allow myself to forget.

CHAPTER TWO
    “H ow’s the foot?” Megan sashayed across the kitchen, pouring herself a generous cup of steaming hot coffee. Her long, straight hair fanned out across her slender back, once again making me self-conscious. I tucked the stray strands of curls back into my unkempt bun.
    I had never been one to be comfortable in my own skin and Megan made me feel like a pigeon among peacocks.
    “It’s been almost a week. You can stop worrying about it, Momma Megan. I’m fine, look.” I hopped off the kitchen stool and danced around the room. My ankle throbbed from the abrupt movement, but I bit down, clenched my jaw, and grinned.
    Pain was quickly becoming my driving force. Without it, I would probably be lying in my bed, with the covers pulled up over my head, withering away.
    Megan pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. “When did you become such a smartass?”
    I blew her a kiss, causing her to roll her eyes.
    “Fine,” Megan continued. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
    I debated whether or not to divulge my plans. There was no doubt that she would be pissed. Not that I was going to change my mind.
    “Well, funny you should ask.” I tried to be coy, which never worked with Megan. She could see right through me, always had, ever since the time I tried to lie and say I didn’t have a crush on Bobby Wheeler. Who was I kidding? Everyone had a crush on Bobby Wheeler.
    Megan caught wind of my not so sly comment and spun around on her heel. She tapped her perfectly manicured nails against the kitchen counter.
    “I’m heading downtown.”
    “By yourself? That’s insane, especially on a Saturday. Why don’t you just wait until I finish up my appointments and I’ll drive you? I have that songwriter’s event, but I can be done before six or seven. Where’re we headed?” She nonchalantly checked her reflection in the tiny magnet mirror on the refrigerator, as if she had just made a decision and I was to follow along like a whipped puppy.
    Instead of being worried what she might think, Megan’s flippant attitude only pissed me off.
    “Yeah, I don’t think this is your kind of place.”
    That really caught her attention. “What the hell are you up to, Dakota?”
    I attempted to busy myself by snatching up my cereal bowl before wiping down the counter. Not that it helped. There she stood, staring, with her doe eyes boring a hole through me.
    “Fine. I’m going to Sharky’s Pawn Shop.