Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Miller froze, looking at Raine as if he was a bug, studying him as if he’d become an interesting specimen.
Raine’s eyes were all for me, though.
They were filled with sorrow when he said, “I’m so sorry, Mercy.”
I nodded, not really knowing what to say.
‘It’s okay’ didn’t really sound like the best thing to say. It wasn’t okay that his son had raped me. Although I knew it wasn’t his fault, it was always going to be in the back of my mind that he’d been responsible for raising Mitch.
What if…
I shut off that thought quickly. No, it wasn’t Raine’s fault. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Linda’s.
“I know,” I finally settled with saying.
He smiled a half smile and turned his attention to Foster, who hadn’t moved an inch since Raine had come into the room.
“I know you’re ready to go, and you’re more than welcome to once the nurse gets you your discharge papers. Don’t get the wound wet for twenty four to forty eight hours. And be sure to keep a close eye on it for infection. I called you in a prescription for an antibiotic at Kilgore Drugs, and a pain reliever as well. Is there anything else I can get for you?” Raine asked Foster.
Foster shook his head. “No, that’s it.”
With that, Raine had been properly dismissed, so he turned from the room, only looking back over his shoulder at me twice before he disappeared around the corner.
“What the fuck?” Miller asked, turning around and pinning his eyes on to me.
I shrugged. “Mitch’s father is a nice man. He doesn’t deserve to have me so scared of him, but I couldn’t help it. He looks so much like Mitch that it hurts.”
Miller nodded and turned to his brother, but was interrupted by the nurse coming in with a stack of papers in his hand. “Alright, this is your discharge instructions. If you need anything, feel free to call your primary care provider. Anything else I can do for you?”
Foster shook his head in the negative.
With that, the nurse nodded and left, reappearing again with a wheel chair.
Foster snorted and stood, shrugged out of the hospital gown they’d made him slip on over his pants, and picked up a bag of clothes before exiting.
Miller snorted and cracked a smile before offering me his hand.
I stood, taking it willingly.
“Looks like we won’t be needing that wheelchair. Thanks for putting up with him,” Miller said thankfully.
The nurse nodded. “Men are always the worst. I know he wasn’t purposely acting like a douchebag.”
Miller snorted. “No, he really is a douchebag.”
“I heard that!” Foster said from down the hall.
I covered my mouth to hide my smile as we walked hand in hand out the door.
The last thing I saw as we exited the ER was Raine looking at me with ghosts haunting his eyes.
Chapter 10
If you’re arguing with your woman, and she says, ‘go ahead, I don’t care,’ don’t listen to her. It’s a trick.
-Fact of life
Mercy
Four weeks later
I licked my suddenly dry lips, scared to death to even open the box that would soon determine my fate.
Miller had no such problem ripping into the box.
The first thing to go in the trash was the directions, followed by the tiny remains of the decimated box.
“Jesus,” I hissed, snapping the plastic stick away from him before he could rip the plastic off of it, too. “I would’ve liked to read those instructions.”
He grinned at me. “Just piss on the stick. Would you like me to help you?”
I smacked him on the arm and pointed to the door. “Get out!”
He laughed. “I’ll turn my back.”
We’d shared a lot in the last few weeks. Ranging from our bodies, to the bedroom, to clothes. Yet we hadn’t shared the bathroom together, other than showers. There had to be a line drawn somewhere, and him watching me pee on a stick was it.
“You better not turn around,” I huffed as he turned and started reading the nearest thing. Which happened to be the Cosmopolitan Magazine I’d gotten in the mail earlier in the day.
I didn’t bother to ask why it was in there. There was a thing such as TMI in a relationship, and that was part of it.
“Are you done yet?” Miller asked in exasperation.
I snorted. “I haven’t even gotten the wrapper off yet.”
He whipped around and tore into the package with ease, handing the little white stick over to me before going back to reading something in the magazine.
“Anything good in there?” I attempted to make small talk.
“Hmm,” he said. “How to please your man when you go out with friends. How to give your man the best blow job of his life. What happens to your breasts when you eat too much salt.”
I blinked.
“Which one of those has you the most interested?” I asked.
I could practically hear the smile overtake Miller’s face as I looked down at the test in my hand, then attempted to pee on the stick without peeing on my hand.
“What a high salt intake does to your boobs,” he teased.
I grinned and pulled the stick out, happy that I’d managed not to pee on myself in the process and set it on the counter like it was a bomb ready to blow.
“Hey!” I said when Miller turned around and started staring at the test as if he could will it to turn pink.
“Are you sure you’re late?” He asked for confirmation.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes,” I said slowly.
“How do you know?” He persisted.
I flushed the toilet, and pushed him with my shoulder to get him to move out from in front of the sink.
Then I washed my hands, studiously ignoring the white stick on the counter. I kept my eyes on everything but it. The walls of my bathroom with its hideous white orchid flowered wall paper. The way my shower curtain matched everything but the wallpaper. The way Miller kept his eyes on the stick, fists planted on the counter as he watched.
“Are you going to stare at it for the whole two minutes?” I asked worriedly.