Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I’m Shelby’s man. I came to take her out to lunch,” I tell her with a smile. I pull my hand away from the desk, shoving it in my pocket.
The other one tapping away on the computer freezes pinning me with a stare. “I’m sorry, it’s our understanding that you are not supposed to be around Shelby. This hospital has explicit instructions.”
“You’re mistaken and I want to know where my woman is.”
“I’m not. She asked us months ago that we contact security any time you come here,” she says picking up the phone.
“That’s impossible. I didn’t know Shelby months ago.”
“You’re not Mason?”
“Fuck no.” I grimace when the woman blanches. “I’m not that asshole,” I growl as I take out my ID. Clearly Mason has crossed a line here at Shelby’s work. That motherfucker is mine when I locate him. “If he shows up here, don’t worry about calling security. I’ll leave my number. I promise you I’ll handle him. Where’s Shelby?”
“She’s downstairs in emergency, right now,” the nurse says.
“She’s working there today?” She’s usually only on this floor. I’m sure they bounce around, but she didn’t mention working on a different floor.
“No, there was an accident with her grandmother. She’s in a room down there,” the nurse says with a frown. “It’s—”
I don’t catch what else she’s saying, already rushing to the elevators.
Chapter 19
Shelby
I stare around the cold room they’ve assigned my grandmother. It’s all wrong for Grandma Billie. She’s loud and vibrant and full of what my grandfather used to call vinegar and piss. This room is stale and unwelcoming. Grandmother is hooked to oxygen, and for the first time in my life, I can see age creeping in, making her frail.
I haven’t left her side since I arrived. My boss was understanding when I told him I wouldn’t be working my shift today. My worries and fears weren’t erased when I got to her room, but after reading her chart and seeing her alert, I relaxed a fraction. We’re holding hands now and she is awake, but her eyes are closed. She’s got a whopper of a headache, however.
I hear a noise and look up. I’m completely surprised when King fills the doorway. I’ve been really strong in front of my grandmother but as soon as he walks in my eyes go blurry. I blink furiously, swiping at them, trying to gain control of my emotions. He stops by her bedside first, leaning down so he can talk to her gently.
“Hey Miss Billie, how are you doing?” he asks, his deep voice soft.
“I’ve got a whopper of a headache, kid,” my grandmother mumbles.
I don’t like the sight of her hooked up to all the machines, but I know it’s a good thing that they are keeping an eye on everything. Her heart rate, oxygen and bp are all normal and that reassures me too.
King’s presence almost takes over the room, making it feel smaller somehow. He comes to stand next to my chair.
“Come here, baby,” he says, holding out his arms as I stand up and fall into him.
I hear my grandmother whispering the word trouble and his body goes stiff. My grandmother has a look most people wither under. King doesn’t, but it’s easy to tell he doesn’t like it. I can’t gather up the strength to chastise her. I lose myself to the feeling of being in King’s arms. It’s too comforting and I need him. His cologne tickles my nose as I close my eyes, breathing him in. His presence gives me strength.
“How did you know we were here?” I ask, pulling back to look up at him.
“I didn’t. I came here to spend your lunch break with you, but the nurses at your station told me you were down here with Billie.”
King keeps an arm around me. Now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I feel ready to ask her. I’ve been putting it off making sure she’s alright and talking to all her doctors. Even then I couldn’t get myself to voice my concerns or hear what took place to land her here. With King’s presence, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath.
“What happened at the diner?” King asks my grandmother. I lean onto him for support—needing a connection with him. I already know, but I let him talk to her.
“I showed up early at the diner like I always do. I was in the back of the kitchen getting things ready for the morning rush. I know I locked the doors to the front when I came in, but I heard something out front. I thought maybe someone came in thinking we were open. Before I could go see what the noise was, something hit me in the back of the head. I vaguely remember hearing steps right before I got hit but didn’t have time to turn to see who it was,” my grandmother explains. “I don’t remember anything else. When I woke up, Jay was leaning over me just before the cops and ambulance arrived. They wouldn’t even let me stand up. They treated me like an old lady.” Her frown tells me she gave them hell the whole way here.