Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Pretty much, it was a dead fucking end.
Whereas I’d come to terms with the fact that we’d likely never find the person responsible for nearly killing me, Camryn wasn’t so accepting.
“That there were no new leads.” She slumped down in the couch and looked so cute and defeated that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her and bringing her into my arms.
“When do you have to leave?” I asked.
I knew when she had to leave.
I was just hoping for more time.
“I don’t,” she admitted tiredly. “Your sister offered to take over my class. I went and puked three times during three class periods, and Mrs. Sherpa decided that it might be a good thing for me to get some sleep. Oh, and stop worrying so much.”
I snorted and pressed her head against my chest.
“It’s a three-day weekend, isn’t it?”
She nodded, her hair brushing my chin. “Yes.”
“Bonus,” I said, snatching the blanket off the back of the couch and throwing it over her legs. “Sleep for a bit. The sandwiches will hold for another hour.”
She sighed and sank deeper into my arms. “Okay.”
“Ask me again,” I ordered.
She smiled sleepily. I could just barely make out the curve of her lips as she said it.
“Marry me?”
I sifted one of my hands through her hair.
“Ask me again when I can walk.”
She sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m your impossible,” I teased.
Chapter 19
I only do butt stuff at the gym.
-T-shirt
Camryn
I wasn’t sure what I was doing was for the best, but I had to try.
Anything was better than sitting there, moping around like Flint was doing.
Pushing through the door to the office I’d been directed to, I smiled at the man behind the desk.
“Hey, Chief,” I called.
Chief Donaldson looked up, saw me standing there in the doorway of his office, and grinned as he stood up.
“Hey there, girl.” He walked around the corner of his desk and straight to me. “How are you doing?”
I smiled. “I’ve been…better.”
He crushed me to him, and I went willingly, loving the way he felt larger than life.
“Flint giving you problems?” he asked.
I laughed.
“You could say that,” I admitted, licking my suddenly dry lips. “He’s also why I’m here.”
The Chief frowned and pulled away, leaning against his desk as he stared at me fiddling with my fingers.
“What’s he doing?” he asked.
I looked up at the ceiling. “He’s dying a little inside each day.”
The Chief frowned. “I thought he was better…”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” I shook my head. “He refuses to allow anyone to help him but me. And, saying that, even when he allows me to help him, he only allows the help to a certain extent. That means he won’t allow me to go to any extreme measures. No helping him get dressed. No helping him get in the shower. No pushing his wheelchair.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“And I think that since he’s good enough to complain—constantly—that he should be good enough to work.”
The Chief frowned.
“What?” I asked.
“I think you’re right,” he admitted. “Schultz despises the school. He’s always saying how it’s boring, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard him complain over the last couple of days.” The Chief grinned.
“He’s fully capable of sitting up, doing things, being an asshole.” I paused. “Which is why I think you should allow him to come back to the school. I think having something to do during the day will help him. He’s wasting away because he doesn’t think he’s useful.” I sighed. “He won’t even go to the gym.”
Chief Donaldson cursed. “Shit.”
Yeah, I agreed.
The gym was Flint’s baby.
For him not to want to go there? That was huge.
“I’ve been too tired from helping him cover some of the classes and opening the gym when Carmichael and Croft can’t do it that I haven’t realized how unhappy he was.” I paused. “I sort of looked at him this morning as I was leaving for work, saw how sad he was, and realized that I’ve been failing to pay attention.”
“Let me talk to Mrs. Sherpa…if that’s okay with her to have him there in his wheelchair, then it’s okay with me.” He laughed. “I need Schultz anyway. I had two officers quit last week to go work in the oilfield.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I think she’ll be happy to allow him back,” I admitted. “All the kids miss him like crazy.”
***
Flint
I expected the lawn guys to be at the door. Not the Chief of Police.
“Chief,” I held out my good hand to him. “What are you doing here?”
The Chief took my proffered hand and gestured toward the inside of the house. “You mind if I come in?”
I stepped back and swept my hand in a low arc while still keeping the crutch in my armpit.
“After you.”
The Chief skirted around me.
“You’re out of your wheelchair?” he asked.
I nodded. “For short treks like to the door and back to the couch? Yes. For anything more than that, no. I still need the wheelchair. At least until the casts come off in two more weeks.”