CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVELindsey nearly rammed the car sitting in his driveway. It was getting dark and he was exhausted and didn’t expect to find a vehicle parked outside the one-car garage.
Until now he had held up well. But suddenly the long day had caught up with him. His head ached, his shoulder muscles were getting sore from using the crutches, and his foot had begun to throb painfully. He needed—and wanted—a strong drink, a carefully administered sponge bath, and his bed.
He set the parking brake on the Hyundai and climbed out. He extracted his crutches from the back seat and leaned on them as he locked up the car. His headache had subsided somewhat, but now his wounded foot felt as if a bass drummer had taken up residence deep inside.
As he approached the car blocking the driveway he
