Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
When I look at him, our eyes hold a conversation of their own, sharing the disbelief that we survived something so catastrophic. I don’t remember the cockpit tearing away or falling into the lake. I blacked out the instant the trees stabbed through the windshield and smacked me across the face.
It’s a lot to absorb, knowing how close we came to a different ending and how fate or luck or sheer happenstance intervened on our behalf.
But we made it.
Frankie follows up with a dozen questions, but Monty doesn’t have details beyond what he shared.
The nurses continue to maneuver around us, touching, adjusting, and instructing with authority born of routine. I’ve never felt more out of my element.
The instinct to stand, to place myself between Frankie and any perceived threat, is a constant hum beneath my skin. But I recognize the necessity of their actions, the importance of their role in our recovery.
It’s a precarious balance between my primal urge to guard her with my body and the understanding that, here, protection comes in the form of IVs, monitors, and the skilled hands of medical professionals.
But let’s be clear. I don’t have to like it.
The constant prodding, the sanitized environment, the way everyone seems to move with purpose without understanding—it’s unsettling.
The dynamics may have shifted, the landscape altered beyond recognition, but the core of who I am, what I stand for, remains unshaken.
As for Monty, he’ll just have to adjust to us.
While the Arctic might be behind us, the strength it forged within us is very much alive.
With our beds aligned together and the nurses’ tasks complete, the room finally settles. I take a deep breath.
The overstimulation remains with every invading sound and scent, but so does my determination. I will adapt. I will learn. And above all, I will protect Frankie and Leo against anyone or anything that threatens them.
Our bubble of calm barely lasts a minute before a new nurse enters, clipboard in hand, a wheelchair preceding her.
“Time for your X-ray, Kody.” Her tone brooks no argument. Neither does the security guard standing at her side.
Apparently, the entire medical staff has been warned about Leo’s temper and our noncompliance with procedures.
Worry fills Frankie’s eyes. I can see the cogs turning as she strategizes a way to tag along and coddle me through the ordeal.
“Your ass isn’t leaving this bed, woman.” I lift her hand to my mouth, kissing her soft fingers and inhaling the sweet scent from her skin. Then I turn to Monty Novak. “You’re coming with me.”
The decision isn’t up for debate. I can’t leave him here with Leo. The possibility of a repeat brawl while I’m not here to intervene is unacceptable.
And it’s not just about my brother. Leaving Monty with Frankie, even with Leo protecting her, feels wrong on every level. My trust only extends so far.
I expect Monty to argue, but he’s already striding to the door.
That doesn’t bode well.
Leo catches my eye, an unspoken understanding passing between us. He won’t let anything happen to our girl.
“Behave,” I growl.
The asshole smirks.
The nurse hangs my IV fluid bags on a pole with wheels and guides it and me toward the door.
My knee protests immediately, a sharp stab of pain that buckles through me like lightning. The hot, searing sensation reminds me of the crash, sharp and violent.
I grit my teeth and limp through it.
Until the nurse spins the wheelchair into my path.
Yeah, right.
Grunting, I grab the IV pole, push past her, and step into the hall, my senses on edge, vigilant and prepared.
Monty must’ve chased off the security guard. He stands alone, hands in his pockets, watching me with a strange expression.
But my focus isn’t on him. It’s on Frankie, the room I’m leaving behind, and the silent promise I make to return as quickly as I can.
As I follow Monty down the corridor, I’m acutely aware of the cold air on my exposed ass and the nurse’s footsteps hurrying after me.
“Kody.” The nurse wheels that damn chair into my path again. “If your leg is broken—”
“It’ll still be broken if I sit in that thing.” I motion her forward. “Lead the way.”
I have no idea where I’m going.
“Radiology.” Monty points at a sign and rounds the next corner, following the nurse.
Another corridor stretches before me, a bland, impersonal space that seems miles away from the room where my entire world waits.
Limping along, I concentrate on each step. The pain in my knee is insistent, a constant echo of the crash. But it’s just one more thing on the long list of discomforts I’m pushing through.
The harsh lights, the buzzing voices and machinery, the unnatural smells, it’s all an overwhelming assault on my already frayed nerves.
Then there’s the silent shadow beside me.
He could be my father, not just the man who married Frankie and the brother of my enemy, but a link to my existence.