Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Fuck!” I roar. “I’m on my way.” My feet start moving toward the guys on my crew. “Stay there, please, and keep me updated. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I will. Ryder. Please be safe. She’s going to need you.”
“I’ve got her. Always.” Ending the call, I lock eyes with my foreman.
“What’s going on, Kincaid?”
I swallow back my emotions. “My girl—she was in a bad accident. I need to go.” I don’t ask for permission because there is nothing and no one that will stop me from getting to Jordyn.
“I’ll drive,” he says.
“No, I know you’re needed here on the job. I can manage.”
“Nope. Hawkins, you take the company truck. I’ll drive Kincaid in his, and you can bring me back to the job site.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
I’m grateful that I don’t have to focus on driving because if I’m being honest, all I can think about is my girl being hurt. I have to get there to her. I don’t give a fuck what her mother says. She’s not going to keep me away. If we have to go live from her hospital room, we’ll do it. I don’t give a fuck what she threatens. I will not be kept from her.
She needs me.
I don’t remember much of the drive to the hospital. Again, I’m grateful to my foreman for getting me here safely. My hand is on the door handle as soon as we get close to the entrance of the emergency room. “Thanks,” I say, my voice gritty.
“Let us know what you need. Take the time you need to take care of your girl.”
I nod, because I can’t say more.
We were so close. So damn close to having it all. To blowing her mother’s threats up and disintegrating them into a cloud of dust, and now, she’s in this hospital, and I don’t know how badly she’s hurt. I don’t know what I’m walking into, and that has me almost immobile with fear.
Almost.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I hop out of the truck and make my way inside the emergency room. My eyes scan the room until they land on Gianna. She’s sitting in a chair rocking back and forth, tears rolling down her cheeks.
My gut twists.
“Gianna.” My booming voice has her lifting her head. She stands and rushes toward me, wrapping her arms around me. I do the same, offering her comfort, even though I’m numb myself. “Tell me,” I croak. She steps back and heads back to where she was sitting in the corner of the waiting room.
My knees are knocking as I follow her, desperate for any kind of information she can give me about Jordyn. What happened? What did she say when she was talking? Is she going to be okay? Who is with her? Can we see her? I have so many fucking questions and no answers.
She goes on to explain what she knows about Jordyn and her day, and the fight with her mother. I grip my phone and finally allow myself to look at her messages. I read over her telling me that she had to help her mother with something at the club. However, it’s the message that comes after that that has me choking on a sob.
Jordyn: I just realized that you taught me love. Taught me to give and accept love freely. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.
I choke back a sob.
Stay with me, baby.
I send up a silent prayer to anyone who will listen to save my girl. We’ve fought too hard. We’ve been through too much, come too far to not be able to live out our happily ever after.
“I can’t lose her.”
Bending forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands. I need to call my family. I need them here with her. She needs them too. We’re Kincaids and we love harder, and my girl, she needs that love. This might be the hardest we’ve ever had to love, but we’ll do it.
“G.” I look up to find Calvin rushing toward us. He drops to his knees and hugs Gianna, and I find anger twirling in my gut. He has his arms around her, holding her. I need to see Jordyn. I need to wrap my arms around her. I need to hold her and tell her I’m here and that everything is going to be all right.
Fuck.
I need Jordyn.
Jumping to my feet, I race to the counter. “Jordyn Astor, my fiancée, can you tell me how she is?”
It’s not a lie. She might not be wearing my ring, but she agreed to marry me. Sure, I’m going to do better, make it official and all that, but I’ll say what I have to say to get to her.
“And your name?” the lady behind the desk asks.