Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“He. Got. Out?” I Growl. “Fuck!” I glance over at Rosco, who by the look of horror in his eyes, tells me he heard what the U.S. Attorney said. “Call Nevaeh’s dad, Edward, and find out who owns the building. We need to get access to the cameras in and surrounding it. If he took her from the building, he had to have parked close.”
Rosco nods and starts typing on his phone.
“Text me the address and I’ll get my guys on it,” Dan says.
I rattle off the address, and he tells me he’ll be in touch. I’m about to call Blaire to make sure this isn’t a mix-up—even though I know deep down it isn’t—when her name pops up on my screen.
“Is Nevaeh with you?” I ask, not giving her time to even say hello.
“She’s at Atlantic General,” she cries.
“What?” I ask, confused as hell.
“A man found her on the side of the road and called the ambulance. She was brought in and the only reason they were able to identify her was because she had her bank card in her back pocket. They’ve put her in a medically-induced coma. From the tests they’ve run, they believe she suffered from a seizure and has a concussion.”
Fuck, no, fuck. This can’t be happening again. My head is spinning from everything she’s saying. “Where was she found?” I throw on a pair of pants and a shirt, then grabbing my keys, nod to Rosco that we’re leaving.
“I don’t know the details, but the police have been by to ask her questions, but I told them she’s not awake. Apparently the guy who found her also called the police.”
“Did you call her parents?”
“The hospital did. I was her emergency contact, but I was in class and didn’t answer right away, so they called her mom. When I called back, they told me what happened and I rushed over. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”
Fuck! I want to punch my fist through something. “My phone was on silent and I was asleep.”
“Don’t do that,” Blaire says. “Don’t beat yourself over it.”
“I’m on my way,” is the only thing I can say. “Text me which room she’s in.”
“Okay, will do. Drive careful. She’s stable, Ethan. She’ll be okay.” I’m not sure if she’s telling me that for my benefit or trying to convince herself, but either way, it does nothing to calm me down. “She doesn’t need to wake up, only to find out you died in a car accident.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Since Rosco was able to hear everything that was said, I don’t bother to repeat it. Instead, I call Dan back and tell him what I found out. He ensures me he and his team are looking into it and will be sending officers to the hospital to guard Nevaeh’s door.
The ride to the hospital feels like it takes forever, but eventually Rosco pulls up to the emergency room and I jump out. After explaining to the nurse I’m Nevaeh’s husband, I’m brought back to where Nevaeh is lying in a hospital bed. It’s a private room, and at the moment it’s quiet, save for the beeping of the monitors.
Her face is the color of paper and with the white hospital gown they have her in, and the way the light is shining in, splaying across her face like a halo, she looks like a sleeping angel.
I round the side of the bed and take her hand in mine, bringing it gently to my lips and kissing her cold skin.
“I don’t know how this happened, Angel, but I’m going to find out, and I promise you, whoever is responsible will pay.”
“Care to explain why my best friend, who is lying in a bed, in a medically-induced coma, has officers standing outside her door?”
I lift my head to find Blaire standing in the doorway.
“Usually doctors are standing around a hospital room, not officers, unless…” she trails off, waiting for me to finish her sentence. When I don’t speak right away, she lifts a single brow. “Ethan, I suggest you start talking.”
“I don’t have any answers right now,” I say truthfully. “And my only concern at the moment is my wife’s well-being.”
“And something tells me her well-being wouldn’t be at risk if she weren’t married to you,” another female voice adds. Susan walks in behind Blaire, followed by her dad.
“The police said they can’t tell us anything. It’s an open investigation. They were asking for our whereabouts as if we’re suspects.” She scoffs. “What did you do?” she accuses.
“The last I heard Nevaeh was having breakfast with her father. The next thing I know she’s in a hospital in a coma. As soon as I find anything out, I’ll let you know. Right now, I’m going to call her doctor.”
I pull my cell phone out and dial Dr. Bromfield’s number. After speaking with his nurse and explaining the little I know, I’m told he’s on his way. When I hang up, Susan and Edward are staring, wide-eyed, at me, and it hits me—Nevaeh never told her father about her tumor.