Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“Investigate?”
“For shady business practices.”
“Shady… You are despicable!” she cries and I know a moment of brief worry. I didn’t expect for it to play out quite like this. It might be harder than I imagined getting Hope back between my sheets.
“I’m not leaving,” I reiterate, afraid to say much more. I don’t want to make a bigger hill for my dick to climb.
“I hate you!”
“That just breaks my heart,” I answer, and I want to laugh when she growls out in frustration. In fact, I do laugh. I can’t stop myself.
In return, she throws her sons trucks at me. I side-step one of them, because I saw it coming. The other tags me on the side and it hurts, but not bad. Still, it causes me to flinch and my feet are wet on the concrete. I go back a step and I reach out for the railing to try and keep from falling backwards into the pool. My hand wraps around the fence and I throw my weight into it, pushing most of my body weight into it, instead.
“Aden, no! Not the railing!” Hope cries, and too late I remember about the looseness of the fence. Too late because it gives way and my body is thrown over it, as it breaks to the ground. “Aden!” I hear Hope cry. That’s the last thing I remember before my head slams on the concrete. Then, pain radiates through me and the world goes thankfully black.
eighteen
hope
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” I whisper frantically as I flip Aden over. Then I’m panicking because I flipped him over. Would that cause more damage? Isn’t there a rule about not moving someone? Or does that only count in car wrecks? My shaking hands go to his chest and I feel tears stinging at the back of my throat and in my eyes. They explode when I feel his heart beat underneath my hand. I look at him through the streams of tears that are running unchecked. His forehead looks swollen already, bruised and there’s blood running from it.
“Aden. Aden!” I yell, shaking him, even as I’m wondering if that’s the right thing to do. I have Jack inside. He’s napping but I can’t be out here this long. I have no idea if the baby monitor even carries this far! I don’t have my cellphone. I have to call the paramedics. Oh God. He’s going to sue me.
Even as I think the words, I feel guilt. I should be worried about Aden and how bad he’s hurt—not about being sued. I can’t help it though. I feel real panic. Then I realize I threw something at him when he was close to the pool. I essentially caused this accident. After the screaming match in front of that woman, could they get me for murder if he dies? Or attempted murder? Assault? Oh my God! Could I go to jail? I have Jack! I’m panicking. Pure unadulterated panic. I know it. I feel it, but what I cannot do is stop it. If Daria was here she’d slap the shit out of me. I’m too much of a wimp to do that to myself.
“I’m so sorry!” I cry as I get up and run back to the motel, leaving Aden alone. I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing—it feels wrong, but I also know that it’s the only way I’m going to get him help.
I run all the way back, I can barely catch my breath by the time I push through the front door. I grab the cordless phone, still moving so I can check on Jack. It takes me three times to dial 9-1-1. It finally connects.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“Aden! He fell by the pool. He warned me about that railing, but I hadn’t had time to fix it. I swear I was going to!”
“Okay Ma’am. What’s the victim’s injuries?”
“I don’t know! He’s unconscious! I couldn’t get a response from him. But he’s still breathing, I swear! I didn’t kill him!” I cry stupidly, and the panic is taking over by this time. “Why did I move out here to run a motel? I ruined everyone’s lives by moving out here! Jack’s, mine and now I’ve probably killed Aden, or he has some kind of brain damage. I was insane! I know nothing about running a motel! My mother told me I was too stupid to run a business. Why did I listen to my Aunt Ida Sue when she told me I should do it! She said I had my Aunt Edna’s genes! She said I’d be great! She said I’d take to it like a pig takes to shit! What does that even mean?” I cry out. I truly have no idea that I’m talking out loud, until the woman interrupts me.