Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 71015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
The poor gal shuddered one last heave, and stopped a car length short of the intersection.
Cars honked angrily behind me, and I snapped my hand down hard on the hazard light button before shaking my fist at the angry driver right behind me who’d been honking.
I was in jeans and a long sleeved tee, pouring sweat in the unusually hot November sun.
I was in long sleeves because they kept it subarctic in the hospital. Had I known that I’d be pushing my car out of the way, I’d have worn shorts.
Oh, and tennis shoes instead of fucking Uggs.
Closing my eyes in humiliation, I got out speaking to my dad as I looked around.
“My car just died,” I said sadly.
With a muttered, “Hold on tight,” he hung up, leaving me with nothing to do but watch the hundreds of cars move around me.
My dad was a really good dad.
Which was why when a freakin’ fire truck pulled up only moments after getting off the phone with him, I knew I owed him a case of beer.
Especially when none other than the star of my dreams stepped out in his bunker pants like a knight in a shining fire truck.
“Hey there, hot stuff,” Grayson called to me as he sauntered up, two other men at his back.
I exhaled a relieved breath. “Hey, Grayson. I’m so glad you’re here.”
He grinned broadly at me. “You’re in for a little exercise?”
That was the truth. “Yeah, I decided today would be a good day for a walk.”
He chuckled and motioned the others forward. “This is Sebastian and Kettle.”
The two men in question nodded politely towards me, suspicion settled down deep into their eyes.
“My dad called?” I asked once I turned back to Grayson.
“Yep. He said, and I quote… ‘Go get my daughter before she kills herself trying to move her car out of the way,’” Sebastian said, using finger quotes, and speaking in an authoritative voice extremely close to the one my dad always used.
“That sounds a lot like him. Demanding and making sure I never had the chance to question his orders,” I said patiently.
That elicited a laugh out of them all.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one on the receiving end of my father’s orders.
They, of course, made it look easy when they moved my car across the intersection and into the parking lot of the Dairy Queen.
No one tried to take them out with their vehicle.
I contemplated hopping into the truck and moving it, but I had a feeling that neither my dad, nor the three men, would appreciate my thoughtfulness.
They came back once they locked my car up, Grayson bringing up the rear with his arms loaded down with my things.
He handed me my keys, followed by my purse, and the bag of essentials I always took with me while visiting my mom, and my cell phone that I’d somehow managed to leave.
“Can y’all give me a ride to the cancer center?” I pleaded.
Grayson’s eyebrows slammed together as he looked at me like he’d been poleaxed. “You’re sick?”
I shook my head, placing my hand on his cheek. “No. My mom has breast cancer. She’s in her second to last treatment there.”
His eyes closed, and when they reopened, I saw the sadness lurking in them. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
I noted that both of the other men weren’t looking at me with suspicion anymore, but something more. Something akin to thoughtfulness.
The ride to the cancer center was short. People tended to move out of the way of the large fire truck.
They even helped me out of the truck and came with me inside.
“How are y’all allowed to do this…don’t you have to be within your district?” I asked as I walked through the familiar entrance and down the first hallway.
The three of them followed. Grayson at my side. Kettle and Sebastian at my back.
“We’re in our district. As long as we can make it to the truck in under a minute…which I assure you we can…we can be anywhere,” Grayson muttered as his eyes followed the pictures lining the wall of all those that had battled cancer under that roof.
Some had succumbed, while others were able to prevail.
He stopped at one picture in particular, pressing a kiss to his fingers and then placing it on the glass picture of a woman, early forties, and a young man, sixteen at most. The woman was wearing a pink shirt that said, ‘Save the TaTa’s’ with a pink bandana around her head. The young man was gorgeous, even at that young of an age.
Beautiful brown hair covering his eyes, the start of muscles peeking out of his tight Bass Pro Shop shirt, and finally, the defining factor that tied him to Grayson, was the dimple in the chin.
The beautiful indentation gave him away every time.
“That your mom?” I asked, standing partially back off to the side and looking over his shoulder.
He nodded once before starting to walk. “Yeah, she had breast cancer. It was bad towards the end. She wasn’t even my mom…I miss her every day.”
My heart broke for him.
Cancer was a bad disease.
Where some people kicked its ass, others died within weeks of finding out they had cancer.
Cancer was so unpredictable, and right now, I hated its guts.
Mom will make it. I told myself.
We rounded the corner and I put my game face on.
Mom was, of course, a cop and she’d probably see right through it, but I was willing to give it the good college try.
Nurses all around looked up as we walked into the large open room.
Patients sat in comfortable recliners interspersed around the room, some with relatives or spouses, and others with family or friends.
There were even a few lone ones.
Normally, my mom wasn’t one of them, but today I could see the sadness in her eyes until she saw me from across the room.
Then her face lit up like a spotlight.
To say my mom was pleased to see us was an understatement.
She was a social butterfly and could find absolutely anything to talk about with any stranger. She did so with the three men I’d brought with me.