Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I clicked to the voice mails and listened to the first from Taylor.
“Anna, please pick up your phone. I keep calling, and you won’t answer. Bea is in trouble. She owes this guy five grand, and I have no fucking clue where we’re going to get the money. I hate asking you for it, but can you spot it for me? I’ll pay you back. I swear. Just call me back.”
The line ended.
And the voice mail said, “Next message.”
Taylor was crying. No, sobbing. “I haven’t heard from you. I don’t know what’s going on. Bea wants me to go with her to talk to the guy. She thinks we can work out a deal or something. I’d rather just give him the money. Please, please, please, Anna. I’d never ask if it wasn’t important.”
“Oh god,” I whispered as fear hit me fresh.
“Next message.”
“I still haven’t heard from you. I’m trying one last time. I texted you the address just in case. Meet me there with the money if you get it in time. I’m so sorry for how I acted before. You were right. You were so right.”
The line ended.
“Next message.”
And Lark’s voice came through the line. “English, pick up your phone. There’re images of Court…”
I ended the message before I could hear the rest. I didn’t care about that right now.
My stomach flip-flopped as I moved on to the final message.
“Anna English, this is Officer Peake with the New York Police Department. You were the last call from the phone of one Taylor English. She was shot twice in a drug-related fight in lower Manhattan. Please call us back at this number as soon as you get this.”
My heart stopped at those words.
I didn’t breathe.
“Taylor’s been shot,” I whispered in horror.
Part V
And They All Come Tumbling Down
33
English
I stood outside of Bellevue Hospital Center. I’d ditched my wings at the club, and Court’s jacket covered my lingerie-clad body. It wasn’t enough, but it’d have to be for now. There was no way I was going to go home to change. Not with Taylor in critical condition.
Those were Officer Peake’s words. Critical condition. Shot once in the thigh. The other barely grazed her hip.
I’d run out of Club Marquee as fast as my Jimmy Choos allowed. I hadn’t even cared that Court had followed me. I couldn’t think about our argument or the implications of the pictures or what would happen to the campaign. Not after Taylor.
We skidded inside, getting strange and stranger looks from the people around us, including the hospital staff. We weren’t the only ones dressed up. I just… probably looked like a hooker.
“I just received a call. My sister was shot and brought to this hospital. Her name is Taylor English.”
The woman checked her computer. “Yes, I see her here. She’s been moved into surgery.”
“Surgery?” I gasped. “What for?”
“The bullet went into her thigh and hit an artery. She’s lost a lot of blood. The doctors and support staff are working diligently right now. I can move you into the waiting area, and then when the doctor has any information, he can come directly to you.”
I felt sick. This couldn’t be happening.
Court stepped forward. “That would be great. Thank you.”
The woman nodded with a sad smile. She pushed a button that buzzed us through to the back and then directed us to a separate, much more secluded space. “A doctor will be out to speak with you as soon as they can.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
The waiting area was practically deserted. There was a woman alone in the back corner, but otherwise, it was just me and Court. I sank into a seat at the front. My feet were anxiously tap, tap, tapping away. All the adrenaline that had coursed through my body when I got that phone call was still hyping up my system.
Court plopped down next to me. “It’s going to be okay.”
I held my hand up. “Don’t talk to me.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
“And you don’t know if she’ll be okay. We don’t know anything.”
“Yes, but…”
I glared at him. “Don’t.”
He fell silent.
We both did.
All I could do was stare at the doors and wait. I tried to call my dad. Tonight was the only time that I was thankful for the three-hour time difference. Because even though it was already one in the morning here, it was only ten at night in LA. He answered right away, begged for more news, any news, and promised that he and Ashley would be out on the first flight that they could get.
“My dad and stepmom are coming,” I said and sat back down.
“Good,” he said softly.
And then we returned to silence.
And waiting.
And feeling like I was going to vomit.
I didn’t know how long we’d been sitting there. It could have been minutes or hours or days. It felt endless.
But then a doctor appeared. Court and I both stood. The woman in the corner stood, too. We all waited, breathless, hoping it was us and not the other. Feeling bad that we even thought it.