Made For Me (Made For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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“There was an accident.” I say the words, and I have to take a second before I say the next. “She didn’t make it. She was DOA.” Rosalind gasps, and the tears just come now. Even though I rush to wipe them away, I can’t do it fast enough.

“Oh my God,” she says in a whisper. “What about…?” Her voice trails off, not saying her name.

“She’s in surgery,” I say, and she sighs in relief. “She’s got a couple of broken bones.” I close my eyes, thinking of the little girl in an operating room, knowing her whole life will be thrown for a loop.

“Do you need me to come?” she asks. “I can be there in twenty.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m fine.” But I’m absolutely not fine. Nothing about this is fine, nothing. “I’ll stay here until she comes out and then sit with her.” The overwhelming sense of guilt fills me, even if I tell myself that it’s not my fault.

“Okay, I’ll make some calls, and we’ll speak tomorrow,” she informs me, and I just look ahead. “Call me if you need me.”

“Thank you,” I respond, my body feeling numb as I disconnect and sit in the chair. My eyes focus on the spot I last saw Chase.

I close my eyes for a second, and all I can see is Monica’s smile. From the minute her file landed on my desk, I felt something for her. Just two months ago, I bent over backward to get her an interview at a dry cleaner.

“I got you a job interview.” I looked at her. “It could be really good for you.”

She just stared at me, waiting. “It’s at Around the Corner Dry Cleaner.”

“How could that be good for me?” she huffed while Penelope tried to get off her lap.

“Well, for one, it means you will have a steady income,” I told her. “And then it will mean you can slowly get yourself on your feet and off assistance.”

“You don’t think I want that?” she said softly, and she looked down at Penelope. “The last thing I want is to be dependent on anyone.” I felt it in my core that she meant it. “I want to be better for her.”

I open my eyes, and the pain in my chest gets tighter and tighter. I shake my head, hoping the fog clears as I get up and walk over to the hallway, seeing that two nurses are sitting down writing while a couple more run around. I look around, trying to see if I spot anyone I know, but no one looks directly at me. I walk over and sit back in the chair, putting my head back against the wall.

I don’t even hear the noise around me. The only sounds in my ears right now are the beating of my heart and the sound of my breathing. The time goes by at a snail’s pace. Every single time I look down at my phone, it moves by a couple of minutes. I walk into the hallway, looking down it at the door that says “Authorized Personnel Only.” I walk over to the wall and lean against it, looking at the door, willing it to open and for Chase to come out and tell me everything is okay. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor, wrapping my arms around my waist.

Everything is in a daze until I look up and see him walking down the hallway, wearing a surgical hat on his head. My body goes tight as I try to stand and then slowly slip back down. He looks down at the floor, and the whole overwhelming feeling of dread comes over me.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, but my mouth feels as if I’ve eaten a bag of cotton balls. My eyes never leave him, and I brace myself when he looks up. He puts his hand on his neck. He must sense me staring at him when he looks at me. I hold on to the wall as I get up. “Is she…?” I ask, not finishing my sentence because I can’t put the words out there.

“She’s in recovery right now,” he says as soon as he gets close enough to me. “She has a concussion, but she’s a fighter.”

I don’t know if it’s a sigh of relief or not. “Can I see her?” I ask, and he looks around.

“I can take you back there, but you can’t stay,” he says, and all I can do is nod. I follow him as he walks back through the door. He walks toward the side where I hear the sound of machines beeping. I look through the glass wall at her little body in the middle of the enormous bed. “She’s going to be out for a bit,” he shares softly. “Why don’t you come home with me and shower?”


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