Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I looked up to see Ford hurrying out of one of the exam rooms. He was tugging his shirt on as he walked. An older man in a long white coat walked behind him, a tablet in his hand. He called Ford’s name again, but when Ford ignored him, he sighed and said, “Mr. Cornell, if you insist on leaving AMA, I’ll need you to sign a document saying as much.”
Ford paused. He hadn’t noticed me and I could tell he hadn’t been on his way to the exit, but rather the reception desk where I was standing.
Probably to get an update on Walter.
Ford turned around and went to the doctor, who held out the tablet. I listened as the man began warning Ford about the possible side effects of hypothermia and how dangerous it would be for Ford if he was alone when he began experiencing them. Chills ran down my own spine at the man’s words and his insistent urging that Ford stay the night for observation. Ford seemed to be in another world as the doctor talked, but when he handed Ford his tablet and told him to sign the document on the screen, Ford did it.
“What are you doing?” I snapped when Ford turned away from the doctor. I hadn’t even realized that at some point I’d moved away from the nurse giving me the update on Walter.
Ford jumped at the sound of my voice. Fear skated across his features before he seemed to relax a little.
Yeah, I’m not your fucktard of a brother and I’d rather cut off my own arm than lay a hand on you in anger.
That was what I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
Ford crossed his arms in front of him. On anyone else, the move would have been a signal that he was just being stubborn, but somehow on Ford it looked like it was more about soothing himself. “I thought you’d left, Sheriff.”
“You’re not the only one worried about Walter, Ford,” I said. “I wanted to get an update on him.”
I left out the part about wanting to make sure Ford was okay too.
“Have you heard anything?” he asked hopefully as he took a few steps toward me.
“I was just getting some information from Jodi here,” I said as I motioned to the nurse watching us curiously from the reception desk.
“Is he okay?” Ford asked as he stepped past me and hurried to the nurse.
She studied him a moment, then looked over his shoulder at me. “Is this man with you, Sheriff?” she asked. She’d kept the question vague and I knew why. Technically, she couldn’t tell anyone about Walter’s condition because of patient confidentiality rules. But with me being a law enforcement officer who had to write up a report on what happened to Walter, she was able to say much more and without Walter’s consent.
I simply nodded my head. It was enough for Jodi. She turned her attention to Ford. “He’s comfortable, Ford.”
Jesus, so she knew his name too. How many fucking times had Ford been here?
“We’re admitting him because he’s got some injuries that need attention.”
“But he’s okay?” Ford asked desperately.
Jodi nodded. “He’s been asking about you. We had to give him something for the pain, so if you end up seeing him and he seems a bit out of it, that’s why, okay?”
Ford nodded. “So I can see him?”
The hope in Ford’s voice was heartbreaking. Jodi once again looked at me and I nodded. “Sure, I can take you both up to see him,” she said.
We followed the young woman to the elevator. She motioned for me and Ford to enter. We ended up standing side by side just behind Jodi who was checking her tablet, then hitting a button on the elevator. It was just the three of us in the elevator but with Jodi focused on the device in her hands, the little space was almost uncomfortably silent. I’d put as much distance between myself and Ford that I could manage in the cramped quarters, but somehow, he ended up standing so close to me that we were almost touching.
Then we were touching.
Only it was him touching me.
And I couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not.
We were both holding our arms loosely by our sides but every now and again Ford’s fingers would brush over mine. At first, I thought it was the motion of the elevator causing it, but I quickly realized there was no pattern to the little moves.
Fucking hell, he was doing it on purpose.
He had to be.
But why?
If he were any other guy, I would have linked our fingers together in an effort to comfort him. My sexuality wasn’t something I announced to the world, but I didn’t hide it either. But Ford wasn’t just closeted, he was a closeted homophobe.