Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Sighing, I forced myself to walk to Free’s office.
I came to a sudden halt when I entered, startled that the entirety of the Free family, minus James and Janie, were all crowded around a small flat screen TV that hung on the wall. It was a little after one in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and my only day off this week. It for sure wasn’t all of these people’s day off.
“...want to reiterate that no news has been released on the police officer that was shot. The SWAT team was getting into position when a shot rang out from the building across the street. Another one followed shortly after the first. A man fell two floors from the top of the old Coca Cola plant as a result of that shot. He was pronounced dead on arrival at GSMC. The chief of Kilgore Police has yet to issue a statement...” The announcer on the TV was explaining what looked like a shooter that was picking off people that passed through downtown.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Everyone startled and looked at me, even the men. Sam looked guilty. Cheyenne looked terrified. Yet not one person said anything, which made the fear for those people take on a different tone. One that was fear for someone I loved.
“What is it?”
When no answer came, I turned to my brother, imploring him with my eyes to tell me.
He’d just opened his mouth to say something when a police car pulled into the lot, stopping Sam’s explanation in its tracks. We all watched as a man, who I now knew as Luke, stepped out of the car.
He was in what had to be the standard SWAT gear. Black cargo pants, black shirt with SWAT spelled out on the chest, and a black Kevlar vest. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in agitation.
Which if what I’d just seen on the news was even half as bad as it sounded, was enough to make anyone’s hair crazy. He walked with purposeful strides up to the office door and walked in. Directly to Cheyenne.
He glanced around the room and hesitated as he saw everyone gathered there, but seemed to come to some decision before turning back to Cheyenne and addressing her.
“Your brother was shot. He’s completely fine, being seen at GSMC, but he wanted me to come here and tell you that he couldn’t make the dinner date the two of you had planned, and asked that you pick Janie up from school.” Luke said softly.
Sam stiffened, and Cheyenne nearly collapsed into his arms.
Not thinking twice, I turned and ran to my car. The drive to the hospital took fifteen minutes. Partially because there was no traffic, but mostly because I was driving a hundred and ten down the highway.
When I pulled into the hospital parking lot, I took a few minutes to compose myself before I bullied my way into the ER. One look at my face had my hospital contact, Marty Sims, turning and walking away, purposefully ignoring me as I stomped my way into the Major ER.
James’ tattooed back brought my attention to the far side of the room. A nurse in her twenties with perky boobs and painted on eyebrows tried to stop me from cutting across the room, but I ignored her. James’ head popped up and turned to the commotion, and his sharp eyes locked on to me as I barreled towards him.
James was sitting with his legs hanging over the side of a hospital bed. His bare back was facing away from me, black cargo pants covered him from the waist down. He was also wearing a black SWAT hat facing backwards that was perilously close to making my mouth water.
Once I ascertained that he didn’t have any major trauma that I could see, I threw myself at him. He caught me with a small grunt, and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight to his chest. I trembled in his arms, and it wasn’t until James’ deep gravelly voice said, “Don’t cry,” that I realized that I was doing just that.
And it was nasty crying at that.
My tears were running down the expanse of his bare chest, and when I leveraged myself up with my hands, placing them on his legs, he grunted in pain. Immediately I extracted myself from his arms carefully, and gasped when I saw that my hand was resting on a white gauze bandage.
“What happened?” I asked softly, gently removing my hand from the tender wound.
“Fucker shot me before I could get my shot off. Dammit.”
My brows puckered in confusion. “Why would you be shooting somebody anyway?”
He looked at me as if I was crazy. “Because I’m part of the SWAT team, and they’re the ones that take down suspects that are picking off innocent people with .22’s?”
“Since when are you on the SWAT team?” I asked in confusion.
“Since when I accepted their offer. Didn’t Sam tell you?” He asked.
“No,” I said, heartbroken that my brother had kept that from me.
Even when he knew I wanted to speak to him. To see him again. I’d thought with the peace offering of chocolate cake would’ve broken the ice but I never heard from him. Why would my brother keep this from me when he knew I loved him?
I started to rethink letting my brother back into my life after he’d fucked up so royally in the past year. I’d spent every goddamn night with that lying sack of dog crap. I’d asked at least once a day if he’d heard from James, and each time his response had been, ‘nothing yet.’ I’d told the shithead that I was falling in love with James.
“That,” I said, shaking my head, not knowing what the hell to say. “I-I called him every day to see if he knew where you were. I thought maybe you were on vacation or something. I went over there every night, hoping that you’d be home, and you never were.”