Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Yelping, he tried to scramble to his feet as soon as he stopped rolling, but while his body stopped the violent spinning, his brain did not, and he lost balance again. Something was very, very wrong with his shoulder, and it wasn’t just the fact that the sleeve of his new jacket was torn as if he’d been maimed by a tiger.
Too dizzy to move, Dex cried out with helpless fury when a car door opened down the road. Its snap was followed by Frank’s heavy stomping, and he opened his eyes in time to see his uncle’s approaching form in the faint glow of the car lights.
“You stupid kid! You could have died!” Frank roared, attempting to drag him to his feet, but the sudden pull on Dex’s shoulder made him scream in pain, and his uncle let go. “Fuck… what is it? Did you break something?” he asked, walking around Dex as a car passed, making their shadows move like gazelles running from a lion.
“I don’t know,” Dex whined, rolling to his side again and not even caring about the cold mud nor the throbbing pain in his shoulder. “We need to get to him, Frank! Call Shane! Please, please, I beg you! I’ll do anything!”
Frank stood over him, an immovable wall Dex didn’t have the strength to scale, and the sense of helplessness choked his throat before making his eyes tingle.
“Fuck,” Frank said in the end and scooted down next to him with a snarl. His braid, which slid over the shoulder, had lots of hair sticking out, as if its purpose was to illustrate the mental state of the man it was attached to. “What do you want me to do, kid? We committed to keeping him in the cell, and you let him out. Now you expect us to just let him go? What do you think the Demon Brethren will do if we fail, huh?”
But he was caving. Otherwise, he’d have dragged Dex back to the car instead of trying to reason with him.
Frank rubbed his forehead as precious seconds ticked away. “Christ. You might have dislocated your shoulder. I need to look at it. We’ll stop at the nearest gas station and talk about it there, okay?”
Dex sniffed, overwhelmed by emotions. He’d only just broken through to Hammer and was getting to know him better every day. Was he meant to accept losing him because of false accusations? Hammer and he both deserved better than that.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” he mumbled, forcing himself up with his non-injured arm.
The other shoulder felt as if his flesh had been minced and ready to be served to Baby on a platter, but as Frank gently pushed him forward, Dex swallowed down the discomfort and walked back to the car.
The journey to the nearest gas station felt like hours of agony, and by the time Frank walked him into the disabled bathroom at its back, Dex was drenched with sweat. Despite utmost care, the removal of the jacket made him shudder with pain.
Frank dropped the damaged bomber to the dirty floor and rubbed his face in the pale glow of the LED above. “You did dislocate your shoulder. And for what?”
Dex was fighting tears by biting his cheek from the inside, but if he got to save Hammer, all this suffering would be worth it a hundred times over. “C-can you fix it?” he asked, trembling from the cold as he peeled off his T-shirt.
Frank might be an imposing tower of strength, but when his face twisted, it was because of care, and while Dex did have a gun on him still, he could never turn it against his uncle, regardless of whether he really had the intention of going through with threats or not. There needed to be another way.
“Look away and relax,” Frank said as his thick fingers pressed on the swollen flesh.
Dex nodded, and went as far as closing his eyes. He needed to focus and remind himself how to reach Cora’s from here.
“Okay. Deep breath. Count to three. One...”
Frank pressed on his arm, making something snap and crackle inside Dex, but no matter how much he tried to keep himself together, he screamed out like a wounded animal.
Once a wave of nausea was over, the burning stiffness in his injured joint became less urgent, and while the shoulder was still sore, the pain slowly dulled.
Dex slid to the floor, gasping for air while Frank watched him with a worried set to his face. “Shit. You’ve really done it this time. You could have broken your neck doing that stupid stunt.”
“Can you get me some ice?”
One look at the T-shirt made Dex scowl, because he wasn’t about to wrestle himself into it. Frank picked up the jacket before helping Dex slide his arms into the sleeves. “Yeah, and a cup of coffee. Maybe then we can sit down and have a more realistic conversation.”