Tomorrow's Sun by Becky Melby Page B

age, he’d know how to deal with her. The little girl ran off and he leaned on the lion’s mane, remembering the scary thrill of sticking his head in that immense mouth when he was a kid. He’d never been too sure the thing wouldn’t come alive.
     
    Shading his eyes, he scanned the sidewalk along Milwaukee Avenue until he saw her. Pedaling her little pink bike over the tracks and across the bridge with all she had in her, blond hair flapping on bare shoulders. She needed a bigger bike. So did Adam. They needed a lot of things he was ready, willing, but not able to provide. He waved and she smiled. Man, the girl was resilient.
     
    “Jake! You gotta take Pansy.” She skidded to a stop on the blacktop, laid the bike down, and ran up the bank to him. “Ben threw her and kicked her and…” Skinny arms wrapped around his chest and he hugged her, and the cat.
     
    “Did Ben follow you?”
     
    “Are you kidding? He’s too slow.”
     
    And you’re too cocky
. His greatest fear was that someday she wouldn’t outmaneuver Ben Madsen’s temper. “Tell me what happened.” He led her to a park bench facing the playground. She took off the backpack and sat down with it on her lap. Jake waited while she caught her breath.
     
    “Ben was sleeping on the couch when I got home from track.” The cat’s head stuck out through an opening under the flap, and she nuzzled her face in the fur. “He locked Pansy outside. You know… how she…hates…” Her shoulders heaved, one hand rose to her chest and rubbed a spot just below her collarbone. “She must have heard me…come in…” Her breath rasped. The next one was clearly a struggle.
     
    “Where’s your inhaler?” Jake took a deep breath, as if it could somehow get to her lungs.
     
    “In my pack.” She fumbled the clasp on the flap, the wheezing getting louder with each inhale.
     
    Jake grabbed the cat and shook the bag upside down. “Where?”
     
    Green eyes widened. “I…dumped…” Shoulders rounded, cords standing out on her neck, she stood and quickly lowered her head. “Can you…take…me home?”
     
    Eyes darting around the park, he stuffed the cat in the pack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he scooped up Lexi and ran to the truck. As he opened the passenger door, the train signal clanged. He whipped the seat belt across her. The skin around her mouth had a purple cast. “Hang on, baby. Try to relax.”
     
    Lexi nodded. The rumble of a train muffled the clanging and doubled the distance he’d have to drive. He couldn’t chance taking her home. If she couldn’t find her inhaler, or it didn’t work fast enough…
     
    Jake jumped in, started the truck, and did a U-turn, tires squealing. He glanced right when he got to the road, thinking for a fraction of a second about trying to beat the train. Gates lowered on his thought. Red lights flashed. He weaved between slowing cars and onto Bridge Street. Sunlight lasered an SOS through the spaces between boxcars. Through the open window, wheels clacked over the tracks. A shadow train barreled along the grass beside him. He ran a stoplight and sped onto the overpass then barely missed a car on Robert Street.
Lord…
     
    He flipped open his phone, dialed 911, and asked them to call the ER at Aurora Memorial. His voice shook. He gave them Ben’s number.
     
    Lexi grabbed his arm. “Take…me…home.” Her words were tight, faint. Her exhale whistled.
     
    “No time.” As he closed in on the sign for Perkins Street, he glanced at Lexi. Looking straight ahead, white hands gripping the seat, spine hunched, she fought for every breath. Jake’s damp palms gripped the steering wheel. Pulse hammering in his throat, he zigzagged—Kane Street to Highland to Randolph. He took the back way in to the hospital, praying no one got in his way. He wove around cars and people in the parking lot and slammed the truck into neutral under red block letters. Unfastening Lexi’s seat belt, he slid her toward