Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Maybe I’d been wrong about that flash of pain…?
I glanced at the array of windows that overlooked the backyard. It was still dark out, though I had no way of knowing how much time had actually passed since Lincoln had found me in the bathroom. For all I knew, I could have lost an entire day.
And if that was the case then what had Lincoln told Ford? Jesus, had Ford seen me like this?
“What day is it?” I snapped the second Lincoln returned to the room. It didn’t even occur to me that I hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to get out of bed and return to my room until Lincoln once again sat on the bed, his big body taking up way too much of my personal space.
“Drink,” was all he said as he handed me a glass of water.
“What day is it?” I repeated stubbornly as I ignored his offer. I really, really wanted that water so I could get rid of the sour taste in my mouth, but I’d be damned if I let Lincoln have the upper hand for even a second longer.
“Drink,” Lincoln repeated.
I held out for all of fifteen seconds. I snatched the glass from his strong fingers and took a big sip, not caring that some of the water sloshed over my hand in the process. The cold liquid felt good on my tongue but as the bile was washed away, I realized I’d have to swallow it along with the water.
“Spit,” Lincoln said. I glanced up to see that he’d procured a small garbage can at some point and was holding it beneath my chin. The man’s eyes watched me knowingly as I debated whether or not to swallow the water out of pure spite.
My pride may have been all I had left—and that wasn’t saying much—but at that moment, personal comfort won out. I spit the water into the trash can. When Lincoln didn’t move it, I took the opportunity he was giving me to rinse my mouth out again.
“Better?” he asked, his voice annoyingly calm and patient.
I nodded. Lincoln put the trash can on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. “Take small sips,” he warned the second I put my lips to the edge of the glass again.
Once again, I found myself doing as he said rather than what I wanted.
“What day is it?” I snapped after the first sip.
“You’ve only been asleep a few hours,” Lincoln responded. This time, his eyes weren’t on mine… they were studying the hand I was holding the glass with. When I followed his gaze, I was surprised to see a bloom of blood on the back of my hand. The bright red liquid was staining a small bandage. I was so surprised by the sight that I barely noticed when Lincoln took the glass from me and set it on the nightstand. His fingers were warm and gentle as he took my hand in his and began removing the bandage.
“What—?” I began.
“The nightmare…” Lincoln interrupted. He paused, his eyes still glued to my hand as he worked. “You were thrashing around so much that you tore your IV out.”
My IV?
What the hell had I been doing with an IV in the first place?
I must have asked the question out loud because Lincoln’s dark eyes shifted to mine. “Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” he asked. That same weird look I was so sure I’d imagined earlier was back. He dropped his eyes again, but his jaw was so hard I was sure he’d break his own teeth.
I opened my mouth to tell him that the IV was exactly what I wanted to talk about but the soft sigh that escaped his lips as he shook his head slightly had me shutting up.
“How much do you remember after I found you in the bathroom?” he finally asked.
It wasn’t until the question cleared his mouth that images from just hours earlier began to permeate my brain. I’d been in the bathroom examining my arm when I’d gotten lightheaded. I’d felt hot and cold at the same time, and the pain when I’d struck my injured arm on the counter had left me sobbing like a baby.
And then Lincoln had been there.
I closed my eyes as I remembered how his body had been wrapped around mine as he’d carried me to his bed and lowered me onto it. There’d been so much strength in his grip but no pain.
I’d felt… safe.
“Not much,” I lied. Unlike all the other times I’d uttered words that weren’t true, I found myself dropping my eyes and swallowing hard. The nasty sour taste returned to my mouth for some reason.
Lincoln was silent for so long, even as his fingers worked to swap out the bandage on the back of my hand, that I was sure he was going to call me out on the lie.