Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“She’s on level three,” she said. “I was just coming down to wait for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, barely stopping to speak as I raced up the stairs. Fuck the elevator, it would take too long. I wasn’t sure if Lyla was behind me or not, but I didn’t stop as I cleared the third floor, rounding the corner toward the reception check in, bypassing it and smacking directly into Mr. VanDoren’s back.
“I’m sorry,” I said, righting myself and trying to catch my breath. “Where is she? Is she all right? What are her levels at?” The line of questions came out in one panicked string.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Mr. VanDoren grumbled, but Anne’s mother stepped around him, pushing him back with nothing more than a look.
“She’s in room three-thirteen,” she said. “She’s stable, but still unconscious. Her liver levels spiked, and the doctor said some fluid had accumulated there and caused an infection that had some instant affects.”
“How?” I asked, a small amount of relief slipping air into my tight lungs. She was okay. She was stable. It would be all right. Anne would be all right.
“How?” Mr. VanDoren snapped, moving around Mrs. VanDoren. “How? Probably from overworking herself at your department.” He glared at me. “Hell, you probably even convinced her to go to one of those cop bars after work, didn’t you? Did you pressure her into drinking again? Did you—”
“Hell no,” I cut over him, anger snapping through my veins. “I would never put her well-being in jeopardy.”
He looked at me like he didn’t buy it for a second. “You’ve never cared about her well-being—”
“Here are those coffees,” Brad’s voice cut over Mr. VanDoren’s tantrum as he came around the corner, holding two white cups in his hands.
Anne’s parents took them from him, and I knew he was a good guy but goddamn he was making it hard to like him right now. I mean, fuck me, the guy was there when Anne passed out. He had been there to catch her. And Mr. VanDoren looked at him like he was the son he never had.
“Thank you, Brad,” he said, shooting his name at me like a bullet. “It’s wonderful to have someone here who actually cares about Andromeda’s future.”
Brad furrowed his brow, instantly taking a step away from Mr. VanDoren like he could separate himself from the death glare he was giving me.
“Anne’s my friend,” he said.
“Why are you even here?” Mr. VanDoren asked, pointing at me.
“Harold,” Mrs. VanDoren chided him, but he ignored her. “Jim is Anne’s life. More than we are—”
“You’ve never actually cared about her,” he cut her off, eyes only for me. “If you did, then you would’ve tried to reconnect with her sooner. Not wait until she came home, vulnerable and broken—”
“She’s not broken!” I snapped. “And you’re one to talk. You tried to set her up with Brad for the same reasoning you’re accusing me of!”
“Take that tone with me again, young man,” he said. “I dare you.”
“Nah,” Ridge’s voice sounded from behind me, slightly out of breath like he’d ran up the stairs too. I didn’t know who texted him, but I was suddenly so fucking grateful to have someone here who was on my side. “Pump the brakes, old man,” he continued, stepping up to shove us away from each other.
“Who the hell are you?”
Ridge glared at him, then shook his head. “Don’t care,” Ridge said, turning his back on him and looking at me. “What do you need?”
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” I said, defeat crashing over me. His daughter was unconscious for fuck’s sake and he was wasting time with this bullshit?
Ridge gave me a nod, turning to face the family. “Let him see her.”
“No.” Mr. VanDoren’s voice was final, lethal even.
Ridge took a step toward him, but I placed a hand on his chest. “It’s okay,” I said, looking at Anne’s father as I lowered my voice so only he could hear. “You think you’d be more concerned about your daughter’s well-being and happiness instead of a decade-old grudge against a sixteen-year-old. You have no idea who I am anymore. I don’t even think you know who your daughter is.”
“And you do?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
“It’s sad,” he said. “How highly you hold yourself. Do you honestly think you’re worthy of a daughter like mine?”
“I love her—”
“Love her,” he cut me off. “Love her? You said the same thing all those years ago and where did that get you? Where did you two end up?” He glanced around the waiting area. “Look at where we are. Do you think you’re giving her some grand life?”
Where did we end up? Where did that get us? Jesus, this man. He would never approve of me, never stop fighting me at every fucking turn. If it wasn’t for him, we would’ve stayed together. I knew that in my bones. If he hadn’t pulled us apart, Anne’s life would look a hell of a lot different, we’d proven that over these last few weeks. Proven what life could’ve been, but he wanted to shame me? He wanted to keep me from her again?