Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“You think she’s going to hurt herself again?”
I nod my head. “I can see why she doesn’t want to go back to the foster home. I wouldn’t want to live with that prick either. I offered to take her home when she’s discharged from the hospital, but she told me she doesn’t have a home. She seems lost; hopeless.”
“Where are her parents?” Shadow leans forward and places his now empty beer bottle on the table in front of us.
“No clue. She shut me down completely when I asked. If they’re still alive, they can’t be any good since she’s been taken from their custody.”
He nods his head in understanding.
“I have no clue where she’s been staying, but from the conversation I overheard, it hasn’t been with the foster parents. She may have been living with the guy she was engaged to. They showed up and were pissed they got called into the hospital; not because she’s been gone.”
“That’s pretty fucked up,” Shadow huffs.
“I thought the same thing. She says they get a check every month while she’s in their care. That they’re only pissed because her not being there and hurting herself could make them lose part of that money if the state removes her.” I sit back further on the couch, drumming my fingers on my legs.
“Just fucking spit it out, Kid. You’re making me nervous all wired up as you are right now.”
I smile because I should’ve guessed Shadow would read me like an open book. His skill set may be intel and electronics but he’s sharp as a tack and can read a situation faster than most people can blink.
“I thought maybe she could stay here.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You want the MC to harbor a kid who’s practically a runaway?”
“She’s not really a kid,” I counter. “She’s seventeen, will be eighteen in a month.”
“And in what capacity is she going to be staying here?”
“She just needs a place to stay, man. I figure if she goes somewhere and she’s not treated like shit, she may realize death isn’t necessary.” I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He’s watching me as if by just a glance in my direction he can read me like a damn book. “Besides, her fiancé just died.”
“That may be the case, but you still want to fuck her.”
Truth.
And that fact makes my stomach turn a bit.
“She’s not even eighteen. I won’t touch her.”
He laughs beside me like it’s a feat I can’t handle. Then I remember that Shadow tends to like his women on the younger side. Well younger to him. I don’t know that he’s ever messed around with someone under the drinking age, but at thirty-two, that’s quite an age gap.
“Seventeen is legal in New Mexico.” He cuts his eyes to me, making me question the thought I just had. Maybe Shadow has dabbled some with much younger women.
“I saw her at the park, man. She’s stacked to the fucking gills. She doesn’t have the body of a seventeen-year-old.”
I groan beside him. “You’re not making this any easier.”
He laughs and slaps me on the back, standing from the couch. “Let me check with Kincaid. I know he doesn’t want any trouble coming down on the MC.”
I watch him walk away. I have no idea which way this will go. I hope he gets back to me fast. The hospital will end up discharging her tomorrow, and I need to have a plan in place.
I drag my tired ass off the couch and head for my bed. Visiting hours begin at nine in the morning and I have every intention of being there the second I’m allowed back inside.
Chapter 7
Khloe
I talk a big game about wanting to be alone, but sitting in this hospital room with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company is its own kind of torture.
Do I want to die? No, I want to be happy. I want to have a home, a family, and a reason to live. Do I see that happening? No. Alec was my light at the end of the tunnel. He was coming back, we’d get married, and we leave Farmington for good. We could build a life together, an unconventional one, but a life none the less.
I grab my phone from the bedside table. No messages, no missed calls. Not one person has asked how I am. Not one person has reached out to me, even though I know the news of my failed suicide attempt has to be a hot topic right now. The simplest gossip spreads like wildfire in this town. I’ve gone unnoticed for so long, but I have no doubt people are talking about me now.
Alone in this hospital bed, I deactivate every one of my social media pages and delete the apps from my phone. Not like I’ve used them on a regular basis. There were a few people I talked to when I was in school, but I haven’t heard from any of them since leaving the beginning of last semester to get my GED.