Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
It hadn’t made it any better when the doctor later confirmed I had not been violated. It was traumatic enough in both my mind and Kynan’s to know it had been a possibility.
I was at the hospital for a few hours, and everyone congregated there to wait for me. Detective Kitchner came to interview Kynan, Saint, Cruce, and me. My mom and Darren were obviously there, although they stayed in the waiting room while I’d been treated. I’m sure my mother would have wanted to be in there with me, but in this instance, I think she stepped aside for Kynan to claim his role as my main and primary protector.
Jerico, Bebe, and Rachel had caught a private jet out of Vegas, then drove straight to the hospital where they joined everyone else in the waiting room. Lynn and Harry as well. When I was finally discharged and brought out in a wheelchair, my feet heavily bandaged, it had been incredibly overwhelming to see them all smiling in relief and love. My mom cried, so, of course, I did, too. I’d known everyone except Jerico, but that hadn’t stopped him from giving me a massive hug once Kynan introduced us. Knowing he, Bebe, and Rachel had come just to support Kynan—and hopefully see me alive and well—prompted me to invite everyone to the house.
Kynan had not been happy about it. Had even tried to countermand my offer.
We had our first real fight right there in the emergency room lobby, me in a wheelchair and Kynan bending over me, arguing until he was red in the face.
I won though, and Cruce stopped by the store on the way to pick up champagne while Harry went to In-N-Out Burger and got a buttload of food.
Of course, Kynan carried me into my house and settled me in a big chair with pillows under my feet on the ottoman. From my throne, I entertained my guests. My mother hovered unnecessarily, but I didn’t mind. Ultimately, Darren chased her away to give others a chance to sit on the couch and talk to me. To have a few moments whereby they could ensure I was indeed okay on all counts.
Cruce and Saint doled out glasses of champagne, and Harry passed out burgers and fries. It was the best party I’ve ever been to in my entire life.
“Sure you don’t want a little champagne?” Lynn asks from the couch, interrupting my internal musings. Lynn had rushed in once my mother vacated her seat.
“I’m good.” I’d had half a glass a little earlier. If I had more, I’d probably be passed out given all I’d been through today.
Lynn wrinkles her nose at my denial of such a good bubbly, but moves to refill her own glass from an opened bottle of champagne on the coffee table. Because she is tipsy, she over pours, and it froths all over her. We both laugh. Rachel, who sees the mishap, comes running with some paper towels to clean her up.
I glance into the kitchen where the men are congregated. Jerico, Kynan, Saint, and Cruce. They make a damn fine-looking team, and I’m not just talking about their abilities. They are just damn good-looking men.
Kynan’s gaze drifts over to me, which he’s done about every two minutes or so since we came home, I suppose just to check to make sure I’m alive and breathing. When he smiles, I return it before giving my attention back to Lynn. She raises her champagne glass, not to toast me but to point an accusing finger.
“I cannot believe you got in that man’s car because you thought he had me,” she mutters.
“I didn’t know it was a fake photo.” My exasperation comes out clearly.
“I’m not talking about that,” she says with a dismissive wave. “I’m talking about risking your life for mine. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Do you how hard it is to find a good manager? I mean, come on, Lynn, I was not about to let you go.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes before taking another healthy glug of champagne. I expect she’s going to be sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight.
Bebe comes walking into the living room, carrying a bottle of water. She’s the only one who did not partake of the alcohol, and I wonder why.
I don’t know her well enough to ask, so I let it go.
She takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Lynn, then settles into it. Shooting me a wry smile, she says, “I honestly think prison may have been preferable to the stress you put me under today, Joslyn. I think I’d like to go back.”
I burst out laughing, and she chuckles along with me.
Shaking her head, she says, “Seriously… This whole experience shaved a couple of years off my life.”