Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I tossed the cell on the bed and shoved my legs into a pair of jeans. The T-shirt was next, then socks before putting on my boots. I grabbed my phone and headed out the door with my car keys in hand. I didn’t care what time it was. If nothing else, I needed to know she’d gotten home okay.
Maybe this was crossing lines, just showing up unannounced at her house when she left, clearly not wanting me to know she was going.
Yeah, it is bordering on stalker-ish, but she needs to know I won’t let her go.
God, that pushed me even deeper into stalker territory.
But I was frantic with the need to go to her, to make her see there was nothing more perfect in this world than the two of us together.
CHAPTER 15
Korrie
Ihad no more tears in me. The wetness had dried on my cheeks, tracks that had been a constant flow because I stopped worrying about brushing them away. I held my father’s hand tighter, thankful he was sleeping comfortably.
Although he would be fine, the fall had taken a lot out of him, and he’d broken his hip. Coupled with his autoimmune disease, he was in for a long recovery, but I was so very thankful the medical staff said they predicted he’d be okay and as healthy as he’d been before the fall. I had to imagine his stubborn, strong personality and attitude aided in that too.
Not much could bring my father down.
“You should go home.”
I snapped my head up at my father’s gravelly tone. He had his head turned toward me, his eyes heavy-lidded, wear and strain written across his face.
“Daddy,” I said, feeling like a lost little girl who was watching her father be taken down and there wasn’t anything I could do to help or stop it.
He gave me a tired smile. “You haven’t called me that since you were little.” I rested my forehead on our joined hands and exhaled. “You must be pretty scared to fall back on that old title.”
I smiled and lifted my head. “I’m trying to be strong, but I am scared.”
“Sweetheart, this is life,” he said and shifted on the bed but immediately winced.
“Don’t move around. You broke your hip and are covered in bruises. The drugs they gave you are probably dimming a lot of the pain.”
“Not enough of the pain,” he grumbled. Then he smirked. “Am I considered part of the geriatric club now, since I broke a hip?”
I rolled my eyes. “There he is, the teasing smartass I know and love.”
His expression turned serious. “I know you blame yourself for this because you weren’t home.” I opened my mouth, but he shook his head, stopping me. “This isn’t anything you could have stopped. Sometimes life just throws you curveballs, and you have to either try to catch it, or you get slugged with it.”
I exhaled, leaning back in the chair but keeping our hands twined together.
“You’ve always been there for me, and I know you always will be. The same as I’ll always be there for you. But we can’t beat ourselves up with the what-ifs, with the thought that we could have changed things. We can’t.” His tone was hard. “I couldn’t change the fact that your mother is gone, even though I wish I could.”
My throat tightened with emotion. It was so long ago that we’d lost her, but still that wound could feel so fresh at times. He gave my hand another squeeze.
“So what I’m saying is we have to just keep moving forward. Things happen for a reason, okay? And there isn’t a damn thing that can be done about it.”
I gave him a sad smile, one I hoped reached my eyes, but when he squeezed my hand again, I knew I’d failed. He closed his eyes, and I sat there silently for a second, just thinking about my father and all he’d gone through, how he stepped up and raised a little girl who lost her mother. And he was right, of course. Sometimes you either got slugged in the gut from life, or you managed to dive out of the way just in the nick of time. That was just the way the dice rolled.
I reached into my purse to grab my phone and send Sharon a text, knowing she’d want an update. She’d been so worried when I’d shown up at the hospital to relieve her. I couldn't thank the woman enough. She’d really been there for us, and if she hadn’t heard my dad, I don’t know how the night would have played out.
When I had my phone, I saw the black screen and realized it was turned off. In my haste to leave Bishop’s place and come here, I accidentally shut it off. I turned it on, and a moment later there was text after text from Bishop. So many missed calls I could sense his panic as he tried to contact me. Before I could call him back—though I didn’t even know what to say and didn’t want to leave my dad—my cell started ringing.