Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Someone will need to wake you every four hours tonight. No driving for a few days, and no drinking either.”
“We’ll take her home with us and make sure to wake her,” Dad interjects, and Dillon’s jaw tightens, along with his hand still holding mine.
“Over my dead body,” he grits out through his teeth, glaring at my dad across the bed from him.
“I can make that happen,” Dad growls back, and I feel tears fill my eyes. Apparently, not even getting hit by a car can make this mess better.
“Stop it now, you two. Look at what you’re doing,” Mom hisses, pointing at me, and both my dad and Dillon’s eyes drop to me in the bed and soften. “Both of you follow me, now,” she barks, stomping toward the door. Shaking his head, my dad leans over, kissing my cheek before following behind her.
“I’ll be right back.” Dillon sighs, bending to kiss my forehead as the tears spill over and fall down my cheeks. “Please stop crying. Everything is okay.”
“Okay,” I agree, trying to fight the tears back.
“Good girl, I’ll be right outside the door.”
He kisses me softly then follows my parents out of the room, where I hear my mom shout, “Cash Mayson, if someone ever tried to take me from you when I was injured, you would loose your ever-loving mind, so cut Dillon some slack! And Dillon, Ashlyn is Cash’s daughter. He, of course, is worried about his little girl, so take that into consideration and stop being a dick.”
God, I love my mom.
“You’re a lucky girl to have so many people who love you,” Dr. Woods says, making me jump. I completely forgot she was still here.
“You would think so, except the people I love hate each other,” I mumble, feeling a fresh wave of tears fill my eyes. I hate that my Dad and Dillon are not getting along, and I hate that I’m the cause of the rift between them. They weren’t best friends before, but they at least liked each other.
“We don’t hate each other,” my dad’s voice cuts in, and my heart stops. “We love you and are worried about you.” Wiping my cheeks with my palms, I hear Dr. Woods whisper that she’ll be back with my discharge papers, feeling her squeeze my shoulder before leaving. “I was being hardheaded.” Dad gets close, taking my hand. “I didn’t want to believe my baby was grown up enough to get married. I should have talked to you days ago, but I didn’t know what to say.”
“Dad,” I whimper, and his hand comes to rest against my cheek.
“I love you. You’re my little girl. You will always be my little girl, but I also know you’re a smart woman who has never made a bad decision.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how. I knew you would be disappointed in me,” I confess as more tears slide down my cheeks.
“You could never disappoint me.” Sobbing, I lean up, wrapping my arms around him, not caring that it hurts like hell to do so. “Come on, stop crying before your husband really has a conniption,” he says, sounding like he’s smiling. I shake my head as he pulls away enough to look down at me. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I implore, then look at my mom, who is crying with her hand covering her mouth.
Rushing toward us, she wraps me in a careful hug. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I breathe, blinking back the wet in my eyes when I find Dillon’s eyes studying each tear. Clearing my throat, I wipe my face and lay back in bed.
“Was the person who hit me okay?” I ask, and my dad steps back, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his jeans, while wrapping his other arm around my mom, tucking her close to his chest.
“We don’t know who it was,” Dad says quietly, and I study his sudden unease and feel the vibe in the room thicken with tension and anger.
“Didn’t they stop?” It’s not like they didn’t know they hit me. I may be small, but I know they had to feel the impact of their car hitting me.
“The police are looking into it,” Dillon states, in a tone that says he doesn’t want to talk about it any more.
“They don’t know who it was?” I whisper, feeling sick to my stomach. What kind of person hits someone with a car and drives off?
“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Mom cuts in, stepping away from my dad, coming over and pushing down the rail on the side of the bed. “Let’s just focus on getting you better.” She smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. “Jax dropped off some clothes for you to change into, since yours were ruined. I put them in the bathroom for you.”