Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I could have gone on, but honestly, what was the point?
“Enjoy your stay. Don’t drop the soap.” I said as I left the interrogation room.
Her snarl of outrage was cut off abruptly as I closed the door.
“Don’t drop the soap?” Elliott teased.
“I’ve got to get back to the hospital. They’re going to take Payton off the drugs that are inducing her coma in two hours. Visiting hours open for the NICU in twenty minutes. Who’s taking me?”
“I will. I want to stop by someone’s room while I’m there.” Sam volunteered.
“Don’t you think you should go home and change?” James asked.
I looked down at the dirty scrubs that I’d procured earlier and grimaced. I really should be clean; I didn’t want the NICU nurses looking at me as if I was inept.
“Yes, take me home first, and then we’ll go as soon as I’m done.” I told Sam.
He nodded in acceptance, but otherwise stayed quiet as we made our way out of the police station. We’d just reached Sam’s truck when the deep rumbling growl of Harley pipes entered the police parking lot. We both looked up and stiffened when we saw Sam’s dad pull up beside us and shut the bike off.
He regarded both of us for a few moments before saying, “They’re going to take her back in. She knows too much.”
Sam’s dad looked older than when I’d last seen him a year or so ago. Still sporting the salt and pepper hair color, but the creases around his mouth and eyes showed the harshness that his life produced.
Sam didn’t answer, and neither did I. I’d hoped that they wouldn’t do that, but if I was being completely honest, I would say I wasn’t surprised. The CIA was a complex network of people. You could be off the grid and still be a part of them. They never let you go, even when you retired. So, for me to believe that she’d stay in prison was a joke. I could only hope that the CIA would kill her instead of just letting her go.
“And what do you propose?” Sam asked quietly.
“Nothing. She nearly killed your brother’s child. Sebastian won’t let that go.”
“What the fuck do you mean when you say brother?” Sam snarled.
“There is so much you don’t know. Just know this, I never once, not once, hurt you or your mother. Fucking think. In the meantime, we’ll take out the trash.” Pipes roared as he started the Harley up and then hauled ass out of the parking lot.
“Get in.” He said.
I did as I was told, but kept my mouth shut. He didn’t want nor need my input right now. Sam’s dad just gave him something heavy to chew on. The perception to a child is different when you see it through the eyes of an adult. If what Sam’s father said was true, then what he’d believed all of his life was a total lie. His mother might not be the innocent little rabbit she’d claimed to be.
Chapter 17
I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question.
-Spock
Max
“You have to wake up. All the NICU nurses keep looking at me with my shirt off.” I said to her.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t twitch. She’d been off the medicine that kept her in a coma for over a week. Alpha huffed from the floor next to her bed, and I patted his head, silently agreeing with his sentiment.
“You should see your daughter. She fits in a Sonic cup. I took pictures. Your mom said it was child abuse, but your little girl smiled the entire time.”
I glanced at the clock and noted that it was almost time for me to leave. I had to go to work today, and I couldn’t stay long. After a short visit with Payton, I would spend thirty minutes with Harleigh, and then come back later tonight after I worked for a couple of hours.
Sam insisted that I didn’t have to work, but if I didn’t I would go crazy. I needed something to occupy my mind. To get these horrible thoughts out of my head.
I hadn’t slept more than two hours straight in nearly two weeks. I was running on empty, but I wouldn’t stop until Payton woke. I felt that if I did, that something would happen to her. Something would take her from me, and I’d never get her back.
“Ember is teasing me about my clothes, but you got it for me so I want to wear it.” I said to the ceiling as I stroked her hand with mine.
“It looks good on you.”
“I know. I can make anything look good.”
“Let me see some pictures, shit head.”
My boots hit the floor, and I smiled so wide my face hurt. “Oh, Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints!”
Payton laughed, and then groaned, grabbing her stomach.
“Oh, yeah. You had a C-section eight days ago. Your daughter is a little fighter. Here, look.” I said and held my phone in front of her face.
“Oh, my God. She’s tiny. How is she doing?” Payton rasped.
“Are you thirsty?” I asked worriedly.
“Yes,” she croaked. “Tell me about her. What’s her prognosis?”
I continued to flip through my pictures on my phone as I told her about our daughter.
“How’d you spell her name?” She asked.
“You’ll see when we go see her.” I declared, and then went to find a nurse.
ɸ
Payton
“Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. Do not pass go, do not collect a hundred dollars.” Max said as he wheeled me down the hall.
“Who does she look like?” I asked.
He didn’t answer for a few moments, and I looked at him over my shoulder.
“To tell you the truth,” He said. “She looks all wrinkly and tiny and red. I can’t tell yet. She can’t even fit into clothes yet.”
I smiled. Preemies always reminded me of baby aliens. It was going to be surreal seeing my own child in that room I’d always associated with the sick babies. Normally, I went during my lunch breaks on the days that I worked.