Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Seth’s dad looked back to me and hesitated... then put the knife away just before the cops got close enough to see it. My eyes caught on a weird tattoo on his forearm: two crossed rifles beneath a clenched fist. Seth had the same one.
Earl came to a stop beside us, panting. “What’s going on?”
Now it was my turn to hesitate. I could tell Earl what had happened and try to get the guy arrested but…. I glanced at Seth and he was shaking his head. He’d had the same thought I had: his dad wouldn’t go quietly. And I wasn’t sure our local cops could handle him. Earl was out-of-shape and old while Lloyd was too young and twitchy. If it turned into a fight, Beckett would be right in the middle of it and could wind up as a hostage... or dead.
And then Taylor came around the corner. Shit! She and Seth had a real thing for each other: they’d been flirting with each other all morning, every time she passed Exam One. And I’d let them because... well, I can be a soppy fucker, when I see two people so obviously smitten. But now it was coming back to bite me. When Taylor saw Seth facing off against the cops, she ran right into the middle of everything and put a hand on his shoulder, looking up at him for answers. Seth’s dad scowled and I saw the hand closest to his knife twitch.
“Everything’s fine,” I told Earl tightly. “These guys were just leaving.” I glared at Seth’s dad and prayed he’d take the easy way out.
For a long second, he just glared at me. I saw Earl finger his gun and wondered how many years it was since he’d had to shoot it. And Lloyd...had he ever fired his?
“Don’t interfere in my shit again,” muttered Seth’s dad. And he turned and stalked away, the old guy falling in behind him.
Seth turned to me. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice.
“Seth!” barked his dad.
Seth winced. He looked at Taylor and I saw his shoulders slump with guilt and humiliation. The poor kid really liked her and now she’d seen a part of his life he’d never wanted her to see. “Sorry,” he told her. And he hurried after his dad.
I frowned. Why had Seth and the old guy still been here? They should have left hours ago. Then I winced. The broken ultrasound! With only one working unit, the whole hospital was backed up.
I spun around to check Beckett. She was standing there white-faced, her arms clasping herself as if she was cold. I felt that chill inside me again, imagining the blade shoved between her ribs. She could have died! And suddenly, I had my hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”
She nodded as if she didn’t trust her voice.
“You’re not okay,” I snapped. “You’re shaking.” I pushed her into the nearest exam room, put my hands on her waist, and lifted her onto the edge of the bed. And then... I just stared at her. And she stared back at me.
She was panting with fear, but I was panting just as hard, overwhelmed by a sudden protective fury. Someone tried to hurt her. “They’re gone,” I told her. “No reason we’ve ever got to see them again.” Without thinking, I brushed a lock of copper hair back from her cheek. I hadn’t felt this way about anyone since Chrissy and Rachel.
I blinked, trying to clear my head, but I couldn’t. I knew that my defenses were down, that she was looking right inside me. But she was open, too: I stared into those shining blue eyes, beyond all the awkwardness and shyness, and I saw someone who was alone. Just like me.
I swallowed and looked down at my feet. I had no idea how to deal with this.
She broke the silence first. “Thank you.”
I nodded, still unable to speak.
“Rebecca’s going to be okay,” she told me.
Relief washed over me, so much that I had to fight the urge to hug her. I let out a long breath. “Thank you.” But with the relief came thoughts of Rachel, her grin like sunshine, the brightness of her lighting up the dark space inside me for an instant, showing me its vastness. Fuck. It was all too much, at once: I was going to lose it and fucking cry or something.
Earl came to my rescue, poking his head around the corner to check we were okay. “You get a name on that guy?” he asked.
“The old guy called him Colt,” said Beckett.
Earl mouthed the name, frowning. “I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before.” He shook his head and waddled off, Lloyd following behind him.
The interruption bought me just enough time to get myself together. To bring that other me back. I pushed the past down deep where it belonged and by the time Beckett looked at me again, I’d clawed that cocky, I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude back into place. It was a layer of armor that would ward off questions.