Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
I push up, but it sends a shock of pain through my right arm and an inky wave of darkness across my vision.
“What the fuck did you do? Get away from him.” Winter’s face appears in front of me, unclear and hazy, but present.
“Hey, Snowflake.” I reach for her with the arm that doesn’t make me want to scream in pain, and she catches my hand.
“Hey, hi…” Her voice is soft and unsteady. “Stay still, okay?”
“Call nine-one-one.” She tosses Adele her phone. “Fucking now!” Winter shrugs out of her coat and tucks it under my head. She unbuckles her belt and whips it through the loops. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mutters. “Babe, this probably isn’t going to feel very good, and I’m really sorry, but I have to do it. I love you. I’m sorry.”
I don’t understand the apologies until she slides the belt under my thigh. The pain is brain-meltingly awful, and it becomes infinitely worse when she pulls the belt tight.
I’m pretty sure I lose consciousness for a few seconds because when my vision returns, with more black-and-white splotches, Winter’s face is close again.
“What can I do? What should I do?” Adele’s voice is high and reedy.
“Wait by the door so they know where to find us, and see if you can flag anyone else down.”
“Snowflake?”
She strokes my cheek. “Hey. Hi. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m sorry, Randall. I know that sucked, but I’m just trying to keep you here with me. Stay with me, okay? The ambulance is coming.”
Her face gets lost in the white dots.
“Hey, hey.” She presses her lips to mine. “I’m right here. Focus on me.”
“I don’t feel great.”
“I know. We’re going to do something about that. Just a couple more minutes and the paramedics will be here.”
I try to lift my head, but she’s right there, face inches from mine. “Just focus on me.”
My body feels mostly numb, but every time I try to move my legs, a wave of pain hits me that makes it hard to breathe. I do what Winter says, focusing on her instead of the pain. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” I sound drunk.
“So are you.” She brushes hair off my forehead. “I tried not to fall in love with you, but you made that impossible. You know that, right?”
“I’m charming.”
She smiles. “So charming.” Her fingers drift along my temple. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I hit my head.”
“I know. Don’t worry. It won’t affect how charming you are.”
“My leg feels like it’s on fire.”
“We’ll get you fixed up. Not long now and the ambulance will be here.” Her eyes glisten with tears.
“Is it bad?” My voice is hardly a croak.
“I’ve seen worse.” She kisses me again, her chin trembling. “Eyes open. Focus on me.”
I keep blinking, but it’s hard to keep them open.
“I know you’re tired. Tomorrow we’ll lie in bed all day and watch movies. We can even watch that one about the hockey player and the figure skater.”
“That’s us. In reverse.”
“It is. It’s exactly us.”
“You hate rom-coms.” I sound far away.
“I don’t hate them. They just make me feel too much.”
“They’re here. They’re over here. Please, hurry, please,” Adele shouts.
“I love you.” Winter kisses me one last time, but before I can say the words back, I’m surrounded by EMTs.
“Lost a lot of blood…”
“Tourniquet kept him alive.”
“He’s crashing…”
“...oxygen…”
“Get him on the bus…”
“Radio ahead. Tell them we’re coming in with a critical case…”
I’m in a field. The sun is shining down on me. So bright. A little too bright. I turn away from it, and behind me is a sunrise on the water. The water looks cool, and I want to go there. I want to dive in and stay there.
To my right, a figure appears.
“Great-Grandpa Balls?”
He rolls his eyes.
“You’re dead.”
“No shit, Sherlock. And here I thought you were the smart one.” He scoffs. “Turn your ass around. It’s not your time, yet.”
“Am I dreaming?”
He gives me a look.
“Am I dying?”
“It’s too soon. You have things to do. If you stay, you’ll break her heart.”
He turns around and walks toward the lake.
“Is this heaven?”
“Go toward the light.”
“I thought I was supposed to stay away from the light.”
“Christ, you’re a pain in the ass. This time the light is what you need. Go back. You need each other.”
I turn around, but the light seems so far away. I move toward it, though, because there’s a pull I can’t deny.
The steady beep is the first thing I notice as consciousness returns, a slow tide receding, awareness seeping in. My head aches. So does my arm. But my leg feels the worst. An aching burn grows with my alertness.
I crack a lid, but the light is too much to handle on top of everything else. Instead, I just breathe and try to figure out where I am and what happened.
Hospital.
The sterile scent, the beeping, the scratchy sheets.