SPLIT SECOND
JEANECE FERRERI
Copyright 2015 by Jeanece Ferreri.
Library of Congress Control Number: | 2015917539 |
ISBN: | Hardcover | 978-1-5144-1988-5 |
Softcover | 978-1-5144-1987-8 |
eBook | 978-1-5144-1986-1 |
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery Thinkstock.
Rev. date: 10/22/2015
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Contents
I dedicate my first book to the follo wing:
To my parents, who encouraged my writing since I was y oung.
To my son, AJ, my pride and joy, who has always supported my wri ting.
To my husband, Al, my one and only love, for believing in me and always being there and supporting me in everything I have ever done.
And to the rest of my family and friends who have supported me, I thank you all from the bottom of my h eart.
Love al ways,
Nece
T HE SUN WAS shining, a cool breeze was in the air, and the flowers were blooming all over town. It was a pretty spring day in June for New York play-off ho ckey.
You of all people! Seriously! I never thought we would have to worry about this again. I cant believe this.
Yeah, I know this sucks. Ever since I lost my drivers license last month, I have to take a cab or a bus everywhere I go. Or even walk if I am going somewhere close, like now. You dont need to rub it in my face. I feel bad enough, Peter Rocket said with a slight attitude. His blond hair shined in the sunl ight.
Oh, please, I dont even want to hear about that. At least you passed your driving test. Ive tried three times, and I still dont have my license. I cant get that parallel parking thing down to save my life. So when you got yours, I just gave up. Now thanks to you and your heavy foot, I have to go take the test all over again, or we will be walking everywhere for the next year. I guess I better start practicing again. Anthony si ghed.
I know. Im sorry. Its not like Im happy about this either. Ive just been so excited about getting my license. Ive waited eighteen years to be able to drive, and now I get to wait another year before I get to do it again. Plus my car will now be collecting dust in the driveway. Well, at least this way we will get a lot of exercise out of it. Peter tried to joke, but he was really quite upset with himself about his present license situation. He had his license for less than four months and had gotten three speeding tickets already. When he went to court for the last ticket he received, the judge told him that driving is a privilege and he was taking that privilege away from him for the next year, and maybe by then he wouldnt be so anxious to get everyw here.
Oh, shut up and lets hurry up. The hockey game is going to start in less than an hour. I want to get the snacks and get back to your house before the opening face-off. I dont want to miss any part of the game. The play-offs are always great entertainment no matter who is playing, but it does help when my favorite team is one of the teams playing. I love play-off ho ckey.
Calm down, the deli is right there across the street. Do you already know what you want to get? With those words, Peter stepped into the street. Within seconds, all that was heard was Anthony screaming for someone to call an ambulance. Anthony ran to where Peter was lying in the street, bleeding and completely unconscious, and tried to wake hi m up.
He called his name out over and over for what seemed like hours but in reality was only just a few minutes. The police and emergency rescue team arrived at the scene quickly. The police started making room for the stretcher to be brought through, but it was too late. One of the EMTs had already commented that he had no pulse and his heart was not beating. The look of his body, twisted on the road, as well as the bleeding from his head, the EMTs knew they would not be able to revive him even if they tried to do CPR. With police putting up barricades and caution tape to keep the crowd away from the scene, they had to wait for the coroner to show up before arranging him in a body bag, with his best friend watching and a look of astonishment on his face. Anthony could not believe what was going on. He was hoping it was all just a bad dream and someone would wake him up any minute. Peter would pull the blanket off his bed and wake Anthony up. However, in this case, that was just not going to happen. This nightmare was actually his rea lity.
Several members of the police went to question the spectators that had witnessed what had happened to the young man. Now was the most important time to talk to everyone that was there, while it was fresh in their minds. It was the best chance they would have to get accurate information on what happened. They finally got around to Anthony, who was still completely shocked over the whole incident, still praying that something could be done to help his lifelong fr iend.
Excuse me, but from what we understand, you are friends with the victim. Is that correct? one of the policemen had come to ask, holding his pen and pad in his hands. His face stared straight as he watched the emergency volunteers put Peter into the back of the ambulance. No emotion, no reaction, no life could be seen on his face, as Anthony slowly nodded his head.
What is your name, son? The officer was an older gentleman, with short gray hair, being part of the force for over twenty y ears.
Anthony Briano, he mumbled, as if there were marbles in his mouth. He ran his hand through his short dark-brown hair. He was barely able to comprehend what was going on around him. He stared at the rescue vehicle as it drove away with the sirens blaring through the streets of Holb rook.
Well, Mr. Briano, were going to need you to come down to the station and make a statement about what happened here today. If you would like, we will take you to the hospital first so you can inquire about your fr iend.
Anthony looked at the officer with wide eyes.
Inquire about my friend? Hes dead! What on earth should I inquire about? He shouted those last words, and the man in uniform felt his heart sink. He was at a loss for words. Looking at Anthony made him want to put his arms around him and give him a shoulder to cry on. He just sighed and put his head down for a mo ment.
My name is Officer Gold. Im very sorry to hear about that. You can call his family from the hospital. Whatever belongings he had with him, you can pick up, and we can talk there, if you like? All that Anthony could do was nod his head slightly and follow Officer Gold to his car a few feet away behind the c rowd.
As they walked to the squad car, Anthony heard all the surrounding people talking about Peter and the acci dent.
That car was flying. Doesnt that driver know there are pedestrians all over the place in this town? Look what they did to that poor boy, an older woman had commented to ano ther.
Did you see the way that guy looked? one teenager had said.
I didnt think legs could turn in that direction, a young girl had rema rked.
Anthony didnt know what to say to them or if he should say anything at all. He decided to just get in the police car. He closed his eyes and let the first tear fall from his brown eyes. Reality had started to set in: his best friend was gone. Gone for ever.
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