“Well, now you know,” he bit out. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I don’t go around clocking girls over the head for shits and giggles.” “Don’t get so defensive, Johnny,” she replied, tone softening. “No one’s accusing you of doing it on purpose, love.” “Yeah fucking right,” he muttered. “Just drop it, Ma.” He sounded agitated—no, it was more than that. He sounded like he was in pain. Which he more than likely was. My memories of our conversation in his car floated into my mind in glorious colored detail. It’s not healing fast enough. It’s a fucking mess. My leg’s not
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