Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
But Chance is too quick. He shoves his arm between the closing doors and enters the elevator. He grips my shoulders again.
Grady. I have to get to Grady. And Chance…
I have to tell him.
He’ll never forgive me, but right now, in this desperate moment, nothing matters except my son.
My beautiful son, with hair like wildfire and a personality to match.
“Look at me, Avery.”
Chance’s voice is stern yet kind, and I can’t help myself. I obey him. Like I always have.
I gaze into his gorgeous blue eyes, troubled blue eyes. Troubled because he loves me. And I rebuffed him.
“Don’t you dare tell me you don’t love me,” he says.
“I don’t…” I shake my head.
The words won’t come. They’ll never come, because even when I hated Chance, I still loved him.
I’ve always loved him.
But he’ll never forgive me for keeping him from his son.
He crushes his mouth to mine, and I open for him instantly. Damn the elevator cameras. I don’t care—
The doors slide open, and I break the kiss and race through the building to the parking garage across the street.
Must get to my car. To the hospital. To Grady.
Mom didn’t have any details when she called me. Only that Grady had been rushed to Mt. Sinai in an ambulance after a car hit him while he was skateboarding during his lunch period.
My fault. All my fault. I should have never let him have that damned skateboard. The first day after his suspension ended too. I should have never…
I press my key fob to unlock my car, but strong hands—gentle, strong hands—pry it from my grasp.
“I’ll drive.”
“You don’t know where you’re going,” I gulp out.
He pulls out his phone. “You tell me.”
I try to swallow down the lump in my throat. “Mt. Sinai.”
He taps on his phone. “All set.” He opens the passenger side door for me, and I slink into the seat. Sweat makes my blouse cling to my skin.
He’s taking over. For now, anyway.
And bless him for it.
He doesn’t force me to talk on the way to the hospital, for which I’m grateful. I’ll be forced to talk to him soon enough.
All I care about is Grady. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead at this point.
God, please spare my son. I’ll give Chance up. I’ll give everything up. Just spare my son.
When Chance pulls into the ER, I dash out of the car without a word to him and run inside.
“My son,” I gasp to the receptionist on duty. “Grady Marsh. He was brought—”
“Avery!” Mom races toward me.
I turn. “Mom! What’s going on?”
She grabs my hands in hers. “They took him to get an MRI.”
“Why aren’t you with him?” I demand. My heart is clamoring against my chest and the cool air of the hospital is giving me chills.
“He said he could go by himself.”
Of course. He’s fourteen, and he thinks he can do everything.
But that means he’s conscious and alert.
“They think he probably has a concussion,” Mom continues. “He has stitches on his forehead and on his shoulder. A pretty deep gash, but they were able to stop the bleeding and get him stitched up.”
I turn to liquid and I fall against my mother. “Concussion?”
“Yes. He’s been throwing up, and he lost consciousness—”
“What?” I gasp, freaked all over again.
“He lost consciousness for a few minutes in the ambulance, but he’s awake now.”
“God, is he in pain?”
“They gave him something for it.”
I blink, worried at what it is. “They gave him meds without my permission?”
“It was an emergency, Avery.” She pats my hand. “They had the right. And I was here. I told them to do what they had to do to help him.”
“Right. Right.” I sniff into my mother’s shoulder.
I’m both angry at my mother and so very grateful to her. I don’t know what to feel anymore. All I know is I have to see my son.
“Avery.”
Chance’s voice. He’s here. Even if I didn’t hear him, I could feel him. That safe place. That protective presence. Yet I stiffen and panic.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “I thought your mother…”
Mom lets go of me and approaches him. “Hello, Chance.”
“Mrs. Marsh.” He takes off his hat and nods at her. “What’s going on here? Avery said you were in the hospital.”
Mom lifts her eyebrows. “She did?”
“I didn’t say anything, Chance.” I sniffle. “You heard me ask which hospital while I was on the phone. With Mom.”
“Then who is—”
A woman in green scrubs interrupts us. “Mrs. Marsh?”
Mom and I both turn.
The woman smiles. “Grady’s back from the MRI. He’d like you to sit with him.”
Mom turns, but I stop her. “I’ll go.”
I walk with the woman until we’re out of Chance’s earshot. “I’m Avery Marsh, Grady’s mother. How is he?”
“I’m Dr. Park,” the woman says. “I’m the ER resident on your son’s case. We’re waiting for his MRI results, but unless there’s a brain bleed—which is unlikely, given Grady’s symptoms—he’s going to be just fine after a few days of rest.”