Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I’m asking you first,” he snapped.
I looked at him.
“I’ve had a really long fucking day,” I said. “And it’s not even nine in the morning yet. Not to mention, you’ve come in here, being one of the most important people in my life, and practically yelled down the house about how you disagree with everything Morrigan related. And if anyone deserves your ire, it’s your sister. Not Morrigan. Morrigan, who has had a very tough life up until this point.”
Wake’s jaw clenched.
“I need you to put forth a little bit of effort and put yourself in her shoes,” I said. “Because the way you just acted, after she was literally just attacked, is abhorrent.”
Wake deflated then, finally realizing just how badly he’d fucked up.
Yeah, it was bad.
As in, I was disappointed in him, and that never happened.
He was our leader—even if he didn’t want to be—for a reason. He was supposed to act better than the rest of us.
“I”—he blew out a breath—“am an ass.”
“You’re fine,” I heard Morrigan say from behind me.
Or, more like rasp.
She sounded like she’d gargled with gravel and sent her words down a garbage disposal.
“Don’t talk,” I ordered.
She rolled her eyes, and that was the first sign of her old self that I’d seen since I first saw her earlier that morning.
“Um,” Wake said. “I’m Wake.”
“Morrigan, meet my friend, Wake Westfield. Wake, Morrigan St. Pete. She owns the coffee shop that your wife is always raving about.”
“The place that costs me nine bucks every single day?” Wake asked.
Morrigan looked from me to Wake then back before widening her eyes.
She was uncomfortable.
“The place that costs you nine bucks,” I confirmed. “You ready to go?” I asked.
She nodded, then winced.
I wasn’t sure if it was her throat and the bruising and swelling there, or her head, but I didn’t want to hang around in a hospital hallway and wait for it to get worse.
“Do you need anything? Prescriptions?” I asked.
“No,” she mouthed.
“Those will be delivered to her apartment,” the nurse said as she came out of the room carrying discharge papers and the few items that Morrigan came in with in a plastic bag. “These are hers.”
I took them from her, then took Morrigan’s hand next. “Let’s go.”
Wake fell into step beside us, staying on my side instead of Morrigan’s.
Something in which I appreciated.
Wake knew how to read situations well, and knew that she was uncomfortable with him. Though it was nobody’s fault but his own that she was.
When we got outside it was to find Wake’s SUV there waiting for us.
Guess he was our ride that I’d asked KD for.
Great.
I opened the back door just to see a car seat base and baby paraphernalia start to fall out.
“You’ll have to go to the other side,” Wake said. “That side is baby zone zero. As in, every single piece of baby shit we have is in that one single area. Meaning, it falls out every single time we open the door to put the baby in.”
Wake and his wife, Dutch, had an infant named Wakely.
According to Wake, they were having four more. According to Dutch, they were having zero more.
It would be fun in the next couple of years to see who won that standoff. My money was on Wake, especially with how cute Wakely was.
I closed the baby-danger-zone door and walked with Morrigan to the other side, opening the passenger side door for her and helping her in before I walked around to the passenger side front seat.
Once I was in, I said, “We need to head to my place.”
“Mine,” I heard a croak out of the back.
Wake turned to me with a raised brow, waiting for me to give him the last word.
I opened my mouth to tell him my place when there was an enraged, disembodied voice filling the car.
CHAPTER 9
A single sperm contains 37.5 MB of DNA information. One ejaculation represents a 16K GB data transfer. That’s equivalent to 62 MacBook Pros.
-Text from Folsom to Morrigan
AODHAN
“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t find out that you were in the hospital!” a female’s voice sounded over the Bluetooth speaker in Wake’s SUV.
She closed her eyes with a weary sigh. “Folsom…”
“Uhh,” Wake said, unsure how a person had just started speaking out of his car who was trying to get a hold of me. Not him. “What’s going on?”
“That’s Folsom,” I said, realizing it was Morrigan’s best friend. “And I don’t think she intended not to call you. That might be my fault, Folsom. Morrigan was attacked at the gas station this morning. He choked her, and she has a lot of swelling around her throat. She can barely speak.”
“I know,” Folsom snapped. “I found out via a red flag that popped up on my computer when I woke up this morning to get my child to school.”