Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Hey, Cam?” I called, waiting until he looked at me.
“Yeah?”
“You do too,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he agreed, and for a second, the facade fell. “We are going to go down to essential work only for the next week,” he said, still tapping away at his phone.
“Cam, the fuck are you doing?” I asked after having updated Sawyer and Tig on the developments, only to find him still working.
“Setting up care packages, wound supplies, and food to be delivered to Miranda’s place later tonight,” he explained.
“That’s nice, Cam, but I think you need to stop working for a minute.”
“If I stop working, all this shit is going to hit me. And I need it not to hit me right now.”
“I get that,” I agreed. “I was really good at that for years. But you gotta make time for it to hit you. Or it’s going to eat you up, man.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I have three therapy sessions set up for myself this week alone,” he told me, flashing his phone at me to show me his schedule.
“Good. That’s good. This is a lot.”
“We will get through it together,” he said, tone sure.
It was only a couple of minutes after that when the doctor came out to speak to us, inviting us back into Miranda’s room where she was in the bed looking pale and exhausted.
She had stitches on her arm and butterfly strips on the worst cut on her face.
The bruises had time to really settle in, looking stark against her skin in the unflattering light.
“I’m okay,” she insisted as Cam and I both stood there for a second.
“Hey, that’s my line,” I said, forcing the light, easy smile to spread across my face, knowing that was what she needed from me right then. “You’re okay,” I told her, moving up the side of her bed. “Did they give you anything yet?”
“They can’t,” she told me. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” I asked, brows furrowing.
“Because of the drugs.”
“The… drugs? What drugs?”
“Rit…” she started, then glanced toward Cam, and started again. “He put something in my drink. That was how he got me to the studio. I don’t even remember getting out of my car. Oh, God. Mitchell,” she said, eyes going round.
“Mitchell is okay,” I assured her, putting my hand over hers. “He was in the trunk. He’s shaken up, but fine.”
“Good. Okay,” she said, nodding, trying to figure out what was next on her list to worry about.
Then her gaze was lifting, going toward Cam.
And that, it seemed, was what finally got through to him.
“Randi, I’m so sorry,” he said, tears welling up and spilling over.
“Hey,” she said, glassy-eyed, as she held her hand out toward him. “Come here,” she demanded.
I gave her other hand a squeeze before slipping away, giving the two of them a much-needed private moment.
“How is she?” Lennon asked when I walked back into the waiting room.
“Waiting for the scan results, but she seems to be okay. Physically, at least.”
“The bastard who did this to her is in surgery. You broke his jaw.”
“Good.”
“And his nose. His eye socket…”
“He had it coming.”
“I’m not denying that,” Lennon agreed. “I am just keeping you updated. There’s also a couple of reporters outside.”
“Reporters? Really?”
“Miss Coulter has been popular in the news circles, being so successful at such a young age. They heard she’s been attacked by her assistant’s boyfriend. They are going to want a statement. I don’t do statements.”
“Neither do I.” Or the rest of my team.
“What is it?” Cam’s voice asked, coming up behind us, making me turn to find him standing there, red-eyed, but pulled together again.
“Reporters,” I told him. “They want a statement. Neither Lennon’s nor my team do that sort of shit.”
“Do you know someone who does?” he asked, already reaching for his phone to start to look around himself.
“There is a firm in Navesink Bank that does crisis management. They could be here within an hour and a half. I don’t think Miranda will be released before that.”
“I’m on it,” Cam said, nodding.
“You can drop my name. They know me.”
“Got it,” he said, giving me a nod. “She wants to see you,” he added as he headed toward the door.
I was already on my way.
“Hey, baby,” I said, moving in to find her still wiping her eyes. “You two okay?”
“Yeah. I think we both just needed a good cry over it.”
“You know him better than anyone, is he going to be okay?”
“I’ll see to it. He sees one of the best therapists in the city. And I invited him to stay in the guest room for a while. I don’t think it’s good for him to go home to that apartment with Ritchie’s things all around.”
“He’s staying in my room?” I asked, hoping the vulnerability didn’t slip into my words too much. I wasn’t sure I succeeded, though. Because some part of me was terrified that she was going to dismiss me now that the job was done. And after witnessing the darkness take over me back in that studio.