Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 25071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
It was silly, but it made her feel a bit sad at the idea of selling it. Like she was letting a part of the Fox go since he’d been the one to buy it for her.
Sunny shook her head at her foolishness. She got the key off the key ring holder on the garage wall. Better make sure it still started.
Hatter ran into the garage and began sniffing around. She watched as he focussed on one corner.
Grabbing the handlebars, she climbed onto the bike and lifted the kickstand with her foot. It always surprised her how heavy it was.
Too bad she couldn’t ride it just once.
She turned the key, then hit the switch to start it up. Then she revved the engine, smiling at the sound.
Hatter’s barking made her turn to check on him. He started racing toward her, chasing a giant rat.
Holy shit!
She screamed, lifting her left foot as the rat raced past, Hatter close behind. As the bike started to topple, she shoved her foot down. It landed on the gear stick and the bike moved forward, her hand twisting on the throttle as she fell backward, landing hard on the concrete floor. Her head thumped against the ground.
Fuck.
Sunny lay on the garage floor, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to breathe through the pain.
This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Hatter whined and dug his nose against Sunny’s cheek.
“I’m okay, Hatter. I just . . . need a moment.”
Just then, the garage door started to rise.
Great. Today was turning into a complete nightmare.
5
Duke brought his bike to a stop in front of the garage, hitting the key fob to raise the door. It went up with a groan and he frowned as he saw a bike lying on its side right inside the garage.
What the hell?
Suddenly, he realized what bike it was. Hard to miss the pink paint treatment and rhinestones.
Turning off his bike, he hit the kickstand and climbed off, racing into the garage.
“Sunny!”
“Here.”
He was barely able to hear her pained, quiet voice over the noise of the bike.
Then he spotted her lying on her back on the floor with Hatter standing over her, his tail down.
Duke raced over to her, falling to his knees with a thump. “What happened? Where does it hurt? Fuck. I’ll call an ambulance.” Where was his damn phone? Why couldn’t he think properly?
“No, no,” she said hastily, reaching one hand toward him. “I’m all right. Just had the wind knocked out of me.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Just a little bang. It’s made of concrete anyway.” She attempted a smile. But he wasn’t in the mood.
“Are you sure? How many fingers am I holding up?” He held up three.
“Um, twenty-four?”
“Sunny, this isn’t the time to joke.”
“Sorry,” she said hoarsely. “Three. I’m really okay. Just a bit bruised, I think. Is this . . . is the bike all right?”
“Don’t give a fuck about the bike. All I care about is you.”
“You just said fuck.” She gaped up at him.
Duke had been trying hard not to swear around Sunny, but if there was ever a time to swear . . .
“Because you just fell off your bike and likely hit your head. Are you sure nothing hurts?”
“My whole body hurts,” she grumbled. “But I’m pretty sure nothing is broken. Help me up?”
Fuck. What if he moved her and she was really hurt?
“Can you feel your fingers and toes?”
She frowned slightly. “Yep. Can wiggle all of them too. I’m really fine.”
“All right. I’m going to sit you up slowly. If anything hurts, tell me.”
“I will.”
He helped her sit, watching her closely. She gave him a huge, fake smile. “See? All good.”
“No, baby girl,” he said seriously. “Everything is not all good.” He felt behind her head to see if there was a lump.
Fuck. There was a bump, and she winced as he prodded at it.
“Ouch, Daddy.”
“I know,” he said soothingly. “Just want to check. Does your back hurt?”
“Yes, a bit. I think it might be bruised.”
He carefully drew up her top, sucking in a breath at the angry scrape just below her right shoulder.
“There’s some broken skin and looks like you’re going to bruise. Let’s get you into bed and I’ll call Hack.”
“I don’t need Hack or to go to bed.”
“Well, you’re getting both, and I don’t want any arguments.”
A sniffling noise made him tense. He closed his eyes. Fuck. She’d just hurt herself, and he was acting like a complete ogre.
He gently pulled her top down, then moved around to face her, his hand cupping her chin. Fuck. She was crying.
Damn it.
“Baby girl, don’t cry. Shh. It’s all right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound grouchy.”
“N-no, you should be. I w-wrecked the bike, didn’t I?”
“Who cares about the bike?! It doesn’t matter.”
“But it does,” she wailed.
“Little Rebel, please stop crying,” he said with desperation. “What can I do to help?”