Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Max?” She whispers about five minutes later. I stop as she stumbles against me.
“Yeah?” I ask, and my voice sounds hateful, but then I feel hateful. I resent that she’s giving me the silent treatment. I resent that I’m in this position to begin with. If she had just stayed away from me. If she had never walked through those doors at the prison…
“Max, I’m not feeling so good,” she says, and when I turn around she sways into me. I grab her by the arms, and something feels off. Her right shoulder is hot. I look under my hand, and the stain of dark crimson red is soaking through the long sleeved shirt she’s wearing.
“Fuck! Tess, why didn’t you tell me you’d been shot?” I ask her but her head falls back and her eyes close.
Through all of this. Through planning out murder, taking someone’s life, waiting for the cops to show up, court and even that final echoing slam of the prison doors, I have never felt fear. Not once has this blood running cold, heart-stopping, cold, clammy sweat, type of fear swamped me. Now, it runs down me in buckets. Now, it nearly overtakes me. My fucking knees are buckling.
I go to the ground with her in my arms. I have the strangest urge to gather her close to me and rock her. Instead, I guard her head and gently fix her on the ground. I quickly take her shirt off. It looks as if it’s a graze in and out, but there’s blood, and the fact that the dark red is marring Tess’s beautiful pale skin is obscene to me. Disgust gathers in my stomach. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I am responsible. I tap down my guilt and work on cleaning the wound. I hear twigs breaking in the background. My hand goes to the gun I have stuck on my back, in my belt. I don’t have time to take cover, and even if I did, I’m not leaving Tess. I do the only thing I can. I move standing in front of Tess and aim my pistol and wait.
“Woah, son. It’s just us. When you didn’t show up, thought you might need reinforcements,” Marcum says as I carefully take my hand off the trigger.
“Lost the fuckers, before we crossed into the marina. What the hell happened? I thought you had the law tied down?” I hurl the accusation at him while turning my attention back to Tessa.
“Shit, what happened to Tess?” Marcum asks as more men move in.
“I think she was grazed. I didn’t know until just now, but shit she’s unconscious.” My hands are shaking as I go back to work on her. Marcum pushes me out of the way as he and Ride, go to work on Tess. They were both medics in the military and know more about this shit than I do, so I defer to them. Ride was actually a medic on the battlefield. I clench my hands in my fists as they take over.
“She’s okay boy, just a graze. Maybe she just fainted from fear. See?” Marcum says, clapping his hand on my shoulder.
“Max?” Tess says, and her voice does sound stronger.
I push Ride out of the way and gather her in my arms. I need to hold her and make sure she’s okay. Now I give into my first impulse. I hold her close and rock her. I don’t even care that my old man and the rest of the men are standing around us. I give into the urge.
“I got you, Kitten. I got you.” I tell her.
I pick a few sticks out of her hair and pet it gently, clasping her to me. It’s that moment, however, I notice Tess’s white tank top is smudged with dirt and mud. My hands are holding her, petting her and I see it.
My hands are stained with Tess’s blood.
Max has been acting strangely since we made it back to the compound. I’ve been sent back to our old room like a naughty child. I’m okay with it because I honestly don’t feel good. Ride stitched me up, and Cherry made sure to feed me, but a few spoonful’s of soup and some crackers was all I could manage. Now I’m lying on the bed wondering what in the world is going to happen next. I’m almost asleep when Max finally comes through the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Kitten. How are you feeling?”
I give him a small smile.
“Yeah, that’s about what I figured,” he says sitting down on the bed beside me. His hand moves over the side of my face. His thumb is against my skin and his eyes look troubled.
“Are you okay?” I question him, wishing I had the magic words that would fix, not only this but go all the way back and fix everything for him. I don’t though, and I hate the helpless feeling that I have because of it.