Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Vowing to take care of that little problem in my own way.
But it’ll be no trouble for you, Holly. Promise.
The check from my pocket pushes to the front of my mind, like a part of my life reaching out to try and tell me something.
I reach for it again.
“It’s a cash check, but only for a deposit,” I muse to myself, feeling Holly pressing closer as she stands on tippy toes to see for herself.
“Weird,” she murmurs, sounding relieved I’ve moved away from the idea of teaching her landlord a lesson.
“But look!” I exclaim, flipping it over, recognizing my own handwriting in a script so small I can barely read it.
Like it was scribbled as a note to me.
Sister O’Halloran.
“Do you always walk around with cash checks for this amount for people?” Holly asks, making me shrug. Almost annoyed now that I have no idea myself.
If I’m gonna get her outta this place and into mine, I need to find it.
I need to find out more about just who I am.
Before I even had to ask, Holly fished for my wallet and handed it to me, flushing with shame.
I open it.
Empty except for some faded pen ink on the inside. A slip of satin over the leather, like old wallets had back in the day, I guess.
To our dearest Steven. May your pockets never be empty.
S.O’H.
I can’t explain it, but I just know that the O’Halloran on the check and the initials in the wallet are the same person.
Do I have a sister? I don’t think so.
Even if I did, I wouldn’t address her as Sister.
Maybe she’s a nurse. Or a….
“Oh my god, Steve! Your head!” Holly gasps, and I feel a warm line, like sweat running down the back of my head to my neck.
The large, crimson explosions appearing on Holly’s floor at my feet tell me it’s not just sweat.
“I’ll get a towel. And you’re going to the hospital. No arguments,” she tells me firmly as I make a face when my hand covers my own scalp.
But my mind is preoccupied with more than a little bump on the head.
It feels like my entire past is calling for me, my whole present too. But I can’t hear a damned thing anymore.
Like I’m underwater or something.
Drowning in the best way possible.
Suffocating happily on Holly and never wanting to come up for air ever again.
But I know I have to now, for Holly’s sake, if nothing else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Holly
I’m not squeamish at the sight of a little blood, but when it’s Steve?
I don’t like it. Seeing such a strong, powerful man vulnerable isn’t his style, so I act quickly to stem the flow and have a damp cloth on his head in a moment.
He seems deep in thought again, his brow creased as his brilliant eyes focus on a world I can’t see, but it gives me time to do some thinking of my own as he’s the only one tall enough to compress his own injury.
He refuses to sit down again, choosing to pace the tiny apartment as he thinks instead.
I meant what I said too. He’s getting a doctor, whether he wants one or not. I’ve seen a few simple injuries at work that turned out way more serious in the end, and I’m not taking that chance with Steve.
But what doctor? Which hospital?
In a flash, I remember the old coffee can that has my life savings in it. Money tucked away for emergency use only, which I dash for.
Lifting the lid, I stifle a groan, seeing only a couple of crumpled twenties.
Instantly recalling the last ‘emergency’ I had was the sale where I bought new work pants and boots.
Something not included in our employment contract.
I reach for the bills anyhow, figuring it’s at least enough to get us to a hospital.
The only hospital within a few miles that has ‘Sisters’ in it that aren’t just nurses that I know of is the old orphanage, a kid’s hospital now. Part of Saint Rosemary’s Hospital and Research center.
It’s not far, and something in my gut tells me there might just be a Sister O’Halloran there too.
I hurriedly rush to tell Steve my brainwave, pleased when I see his head nodding, still deep in thought – but feeling a little hurt again when he recovers from his reverie.
“Eh? Uh, no,” he says point blank, like a boss to an employee.
“I said no hospitals or cops, and I meant it,” he almost growls before softening his tone and the lines in his face smooth out again.
“I’d much rather just do things my way, Holly. I just need some time to….”
He staggers forward mid-sentence, and although I have no way to possibly catch him or hold him up, I hurl myself between him and the floor, feeling his huge hand gripping my shoulder for support.