Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“You’re going to have about twenty new scars when you finally get out of here,” Bull observed.
I grimaced.
“I know,” I agreed, knowing it was true.
A brisk knock at the door had us both looking up just in time to see Jessup walking in like he’d been cattle prodded in the ass.
“What is it?” Bull asked him.
“Umm,” Jessup said. “Your woman. She’s causing a scene.”
Chapter 7
I met a girl with twelve nipples. Sounds silly, dozen tit?
-T-shirt
Freya
“No. No. No!” I yelled, slamming my hand down on the table in front of me. “You promised me I could see him today. I called earlier, just to make sure, and you said yes! You owe me this time! You said I could see him today!”
That last bit was screamed at the top of my lungs, and the men and women visiting in the family room stared at me like I was a nut job.
Which maybe I was.
I was visiting a man in prison that I’d only seen three times in person.
The last week had been pure shit.
I’d been written up yesterday for intervening in something that I wasn’t even aware I had been intervening in.
I’d also been reprimanded for my ‘unapproachable’ personality. My boss cited that I was clearly not trying to get along with any of the other nurses, and that she was concerned that maybe the ER wasn’t the right fit for me as a nurse.
Then I’d gotten home to find that I’d unknowingly rented my brother’s house to Craddock.
Well, it hadn’t been Craddock.
It was Craddock’s girlfriend.
She’d played me well.
That’d been the last straw.
I couldn’t take another fucking thing, which might have been why I was acting like a total fool right then instead of going about this diplomatically.
“I’ll sit here, and you go get him,” I ordered, glaring at the guard, Jessup.
Jessup shook his head. “I’ve been told he’s not taking visitors.”
I got angry.
My brother used to call it my ‘tea kettle’ maneuver.
It took a lot of heat and anger to get me going, but once I was there, I was there.
Which explained why I did what I did next.
I threw my bottle of water at him, hitting Jessup in the chest.
I couldn’t explain why.
I really couldn’t.
It’d just sort of…happened.
One second I was talking to him, and the next I was hitting him with the full bottle.
Jessup stared at me incredulously, then looked down at where the water bottle had hit the floor.
A guard who I’d never seen before grabbed me by the arm then, and I dropped like a stone, instincts kicking in that I’d practiced over and over again with Corey throughout the years.
My brother was a huge advocate for women protecting themselves.
He felt that a woman, whether she be big or little, young or old, should always be able to protect themselves if the need ever arose.
Apparently, I wasn’t aware of just how bad this world was, because my brother had drilled the reactions into me relentlessly.
And we’d practiced.
A lot.
Anytime he felt like I needed a refresher, he’d scare the shit out of me, surprising me, and trying his hardest to make me feel scared and trapped.
Then I would have to get out of the hold.
And he’d never go easy on me.
He’d always said that women didn’t get to get off easily just because they were women.
They had to work for it just as hard as every man did in the world.
Meaning when the guard caught me by the arms, I reacted.
“Get off me!” I screamed, dropping down onto my knees, and then my belly, stiffening up so either the men would have to carry me out of here bodily, or they’d have to hurt me.
“Ma’am,” said the officer…or was he a guard? I didn’t fucking know. What I did know was that he was ugly, and I didn’t like his face.
He wasn’t the same one from last week who’d told me I couldn’t see Ridley aka ‘Connor’ as I was told to call him from now on in public until he said otherwise.
And I wasn’t too happy with that guard.
He was mean to me when he didn’t have to be.
“Ma’am,” he said. “I’m going to carry you out of here if you don’t watch it.”
“Fuck off,” I said. “If you want me out of here, you’re going to have to work for it.”
He moved to put his hands on me, but an abrupt, very pissed off voice said, “Don’t. Touch. Her.”
Relief poured through me as I heard Ridley’s menacing voice.
Instantly the arms were gone that were holding me down, and I got up onto my hands and knees.
Then further up to my feet as I hurried toward Ridley.
Hell, and he had another scar.
“What happened?” I asked, rushing forward.
He stopped me before I could get too close to him, lifted his arms up high over my head, but only long enough to thread the loop of his arms over my head and pull me into his embrace.