Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I looked over at Tommy Tom to see what he thought about that.
“Why me?” he asked. “He’s a paramedic. And so is she.”
Tommy Tom pointed to Naomi where she was lying in bed.
“I don’t want to see anyone else’s dick but the one that belongs to me.”
I grinned and walked back into the room, stopping with my feet only inches away from her bed.
“You finally awake?” I asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice that seemed to be permanently seated there every time I saw her face.
“I’ve been awake. Just resting my eyes, really.”
I snorted and dropped my fisted hands to her bedside, then leaned carefully forward and placed a kiss on her split lips.
“You want something to drink?”
The words left my mouth, and my breath danced over her lips, that was how close we still were.
“Dr. Pepper.”
I snorted and pulled back, studying her face.
“I’m not sure that your doctor will allow you to have Dr. Pepper yet. I do have some tasty ice chips for you, though.”
She huffed out a breath of air, then turned even further and stared at the men in the hall trying to talk quietly.
“Tell them to get in here and sit down. They’re making me nervous.”
I looked over at the men where they were standing, all of them like silent sentries protecting the occupants within, and grinned. “I think they like you.”
She licked her lips, and her eyelids drooped. “I’m glad you’re here, Sean.”
“Where else would I rather be but with you?”
Her smile was soft and sweet. “I’m glad this particular nightmare is over.”
I also thought that the nightmares were over. Little did I know that they were only beginning.
Chapter 23
So it turns out when you’re an adult, there’s literally no one who can tell you that you can’t have cake for breakfast.
-Fact of life
Sean
“The dog saved her life,” my dad said. “If it wasn’t for her, Naomi would be dead right now, and we wouldn’t be talking about what I was bringing for dinner.”
That was so true that I couldn’t stand it.
I’d hated that dog. I’d cursed that dog. I’d wanted to get rid of that dog.
But then she’d saved her life, and I was going to be stuck with her now.
Not that I was complaining. I’d take her growling at me and snapping at my toes as I passed as long as she’d save Naomi’s life if there ever came another time that she’d have to do so again.
“Did you get her to go outside without picking her up today?”
My father nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “But the moment I tried to get her back inside, she tried to bite off my hand.”
I laughed then. It felt freeing, like I was finally able to believe that my life wasn’t going to take a turn for the worse.
It was day four of Naomi’s hospital stay, and the pretty colors on her face were finally starting to change.
If all went as planned, she would be leaving this hospital this afternoon after her kidney function was tested at the one in the afternoon blood checks.
“You should try to be nicer to her,” Naomi said as she rolled over on the bed, facing us. “She kicked ass.”
My mouth twitched.
“She did kick ass. She just didn’t stop at your attacker’s ass. Now she’s kicking everyone’s ass who isn’t me, and since I’m here most of the time with you, my brothers are starting to think this dog is as big of an asshole as I think she is.”
All of a sudden, she was laughing, her face a mask of healing bruises, but still relaying the joy that she was feeling.
She was mending.
She had a baby growing in her womb, one that we weren’t planning but realized quickly that we both really wanted.
And everything seemed fine.
But when the next her smile slipped off her face, and she was looking down at her lap as if something had fallen into it during her conversation, my laughter faded.
“What is it?” I asked, dropping my half-eaten slice of pizza down onto my plate and staring at Naomi with concern lacing my features.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
I stood up, not caring that my plate hit the floor with the move, and took two giant steps toward her.
My hand was yanking on the cord on the wall, the one that called every single nurse and doctor in the vicinity into our room, and started leaning the bed backward as Naomi’s bruised body continued to convulse.
“Dad, get a pillow against the side rails so she doesn’t slam her head against them, but don’t drop them.”
My father followed my instructions.
On the outside I was calm, cool and collected.
On the inside I was a churning mess of worry and terror, wound tight into a barely functioning shell.