Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Make amends.
What?
“Just for a few minutes,” Ava says, and a few moments later, the atmosphere shifts. Tense. And I can’t escape it. Can’t move. Can’t hide.
Can’t drink myself away from the pain.
“How has he been?”
Dad?
I feel something on my face, tickling. Fuck, that’s annoying. I try to disregard it, try to listen.
“And what about you, Ava? You need to be taking care of yourself.”
Yes, Dad, tell her. You tell her to look after herself or it’ll be thirteen Sense Fucks.
“I’m fine.”
See? Do you see the level of stubbornness I have to contend with?
“Will you let us take you for something to eat? Not far, just down to the hospital restaurant.”
You go, Ava Ward, or so help me God.
“I’m not leaving him. He might wake up, and I won’t be here.”
For fuck’s sake, woman.
“I understand.”
You shouldn’t. She needs to eat.
“Perhaps we can bring you something, then?”
“No, thank you.”
For the love of God!
“Ava, please.”
Amalie? Amalie, is that you?
My arm is suddenly moving, not because I made it move, but because I’m about to be prodded at again for the thousandth time.
“Good evening,” the nurse says.
Evening.
“How is this fine specimen of a man today?”
Yes, that’s me. Fit as fuck.
“Let’s see what’s going on.” I’m pulled here, pushed there, something is stuck in my ear. And won’t someone stop that irritating beeping sound? “Just the same. You have a strong, determined man, sweetheart.”
And a pissed off one too.
I try to lift a hand and fail. Deciding I might be trying for too much, I try to lift a finger, focus really hard, put everything I have into it. Fuck. Everything hurts. But then . . .
I breathe in. Oh my God, I moved it. My finger definitely moved.
“I know,” Ava sighs.
I focus on my finger again, trying to make it move, to make them see I’m here. Hearing. Listening. Come on, come on, come o—
What the fuck?
I stop trying to move, distracted.
What is that?
Something’s tugging on the end of my dick, and I suddenly need a pee. And I can’t get up.
Shit.
I need the toilet!
I try to hold it. I really try. But . . . I groan to myself as I let it happen, relief and mortification mixing.
“We’ll leave you in peace. You have my number.”
Dad?
Make amends.
No, Dad, don’t go, please.
“You good, girl?”
John?
“I’m not staying.”
Why, you just fucking got here?
“I just wanted you to know that they both appeared in court today and both have been remanded.”
Both?
“Okay,” Ava says.
Wait, someone please elaborate. Both?
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Ava goes on. “But I don’t have the en—”
Then get some damn sleep, Ava, for Christ’s sake. God, you’re getting it. When I can move more than my little finger.
“Ava, go home, have a shower and get some sleep.”
Kate. Listen to Kate.
“We’ll stay. If he wakes, I’ll call you immediately. I promise.”
No need to stay. Unless you want to witness a thirty-eight-year-old god piss himself constantly.
“Come on, Ava.”
Drew? Fuck me, is the whole world and their dog here?
“There, see? We’ll stay and Drew can take you home for a while.”
I roll my eyes at the sound of Sam. Not actually, of course. Because I can’t. I try my finger again. It moves again, but even that’s exhausting. The concentration.
“No,” Ava snaps, stroppy. “I’m not fucking leaving, so just stop it.”
Watch your fucking mouth!
“Wake up!”
Not until you watch your damn mouth.
“Please eat, Ava.”
And eat. I’ll wake up if you eat.
“I’ve eaten some salad.”
Something more than a few leaves.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Kate says hopelessly.
I do. Drag her. Kicking and screaming if you have to. Just mind the babies.
“We’ll go,” John says.
How’s your head, motherfucker?
Another dip of the mattress beneath me, and then . . . silence.
No. I need noise. With no noise, there’s only my thoughts, and my thoughts take me back to the kitchen. To Lauren. Fuck.
I strain, certain I must be shaking with the effort to move just a finger. Just a little fucking finger.
Fuck it.
I stop trying, and I let my mind wander to where it will go, inevitably dreading where that might be. I’ve been back in that kitchen every time I’ve partially come round. Watched from the edge of my life as I stepped in front of Ava and blocked her from Lauren. Watched as the knife plunged in and she dragged it, slicing me, before I knocked her away and she lost her grip. This knife was sharper than the knife she used sixteen years ago. I hardly knew I’d been stabbed, only felt an odd pressure in my side, before the pain kicked in and the blood started flowing. I’ve watched as I collapsed. I’ve watched as comprehension found my distraught wife. I’ve watched as she sobbed and demanded me to open my eyes. To not die.
It's not your time, Jesse.
Watch your mouth, Daddy.
Pain slices me, and I jolt.