Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Your boots are somewhere near the front door,” she called when I started looking.
I smiled and ran to the bathroom, placing a soft kiss on her forehead where she stood brushing her teeth.
She leaned her head into me, and then said, “Go.”
I did, stopping only long enough to grab my phone.
“Make sure you call me and let me know how the doctor’s appointment went!” I called to her.
“Yes, sir!” She called. “Love you!”
I smiled and called, “Love you, too!”
Then I walked out the door, not knowing that later that day, I’d be receiving a call that would change my life.
***
Later that afternoon
“Licenses, please,” I called to the two teenagers.
I eyed the empty beer cans in the bottom of the boat, then rolled my eyes when both boys looked at each other.
“We don’t…have them with us right now,” he lied.
I looked down at the thirty or so catfish on the stringer tied to the boat, and then back at the boys.
“Are y’all under sixteen?” I asked.
They both looked at each other again.
See, in the state of Texas, if you were under the age of sixteen, you didn’t have to have a license to fish.
However, if you were sixteen, you definitely didn’t want to be lying about not drinking all the beer that I could clearly tell they’d imbibed on.
“Listen,” I said to the two boys that were obviously under the age of sixteen. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say they were more along the age of fourteen or fifteen. “How about you call your parents. Have them come up here, and as long as all of those fish are legal, we’ll not worry about it. Just make sure you ride home with them.”
Both boys nodded their heads vigorously.
“Get them,” I ordered.
Twenty minutes later, an obviously upset man and an equally upset mother hurried down the boat ramp to where the boys were still located.
Not even five seconds after seeing them, the woman started yelling.
The blonde kid winced and ducked his head, clearly not liking the fact that his mother was making such a big deal of it all. The father, though, was a different story.
He was watching the redheaded kid with an intensity so great that I almost felt sorry for the kid.
Almost.
“What has my son done?” He asked unhappily.
I relayed to him what I’d done and was just at the part where I was asking their ages when a familiar sounding motorcycle started to creep down the road.
I turned and nodded at Peek to let him know I saw him and turned back to my conversation.
“Your son and his friend decided to get drunk in a boat,” I wanted to laugh as I explained this, but the moment I saw the father turn to the kid, his whole demeanor changed to one of extreme annoyance.
“Thank you. And what kind of…”
“APPLE!” Peek yelled.
My head whipped around and my stomach clenched at the emotion I saw etched into Peek’s haggard face.
“Please make sure they don’t drink and boat anymore, it could be just as detrimental as drinking and driving,” I hurried, backing away and turning to run toward Peek.
My heart was beating fast in my chest as my face remained glued to Peek’s expression.
“What?” I asked, my stomach now rolling.
He shook his head.
“Get in your truck. I’ll drive.”
I studied his face for a few long seconds then nodded, tossing him my keys.
If he didn’t want me to drive, there was a reason.
And I had a feeling I knew exactly the reason for his abrupt arrival.
We were about two minutes into the drive when I finally got the nerve to ask.
“What happened to her?” I cleared my throat.
“Car wreck,” he said. “The officer, Corey Capone, died at the scene. They rushed Kitt to the hospital with a severe head injury and some trauma to her lower body.”
My eyes closed.
“And the baby?” I asked gruffly.
“I don’t know.”
The moment we arrived at the hospital my feet were moving me out of the truck and through the hospital doors that Peek parked about two feet away from.
“Apple!” Ridley caught me by the arm before I could barrel into the ER.
My head turned to study him.
His eyes were red from what looked like crying, and his hair was a fucking mess.
Which, for Ridley, was amazing in and of itself, seeing as he hated for his hair to be even a single strand out of place.
“Tell me,” I demanded, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him to me.
He wrapped his arms around my larger frame and hugged me to him tightly.
“She’s in surgery. Second floor. I’m just waiting on you. Let’s go,” he let me go.
We took the stairs up to the second floor.
I was so numb that I couldn’t feel the way my heart pounded or the way my hands felt like ice.