Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I stiffened at the mention of Alexa.
Alexa was the nurse who had the hots for PD when I’d first started dating him. She didn’t hide the fact that she was interested in him from me, that’s for sure. Not to mention that Dean went into a soft puddle of goo whenever she was around.
It must be the mousy thing she had going on, because everything that was her, was definitely not me. I was mouthy, opinionated and didn’t take shit from anyone.
She would’ve rolled over if you asked her to. Me? I would’ve told you to go fuck yourself.
Then again, that was the trailer trash queen coming out in me.
I had to stick up for myself, because nobody else but my brother would, and Wolf wasn’t there half the time.
So it was me against the world, and my attitude showed it.
“She’s here today,” Murphy the security guard said. “Room four.”
“Pelvic rooms,” Dean muttered. “She hates those rooms.”
I gritted my teeth and took a seat where he told me to in the waiting room.
“I’ll be back,” he said, leaving me there in the waiting room, feeling naked.
He’d done it on purpose.
My brows lowered in anger.
If my problem wasn’t serious enough to warrant a straight back—or instant—room, then why the hell did I have to ride in an ambulance?
I watched Dean stop at what looked to be a nurses’ station until the doors closed, shielding his body from view.
The room he’d left me in was clean and elegant. The floors were white, and the walls were a pale brown. The chairs were soft as a cloud, and the coffee table in the middle of the chairs were covered with every kind of magazine one could imagine.
I leaned forward and looked at the Cosmo, my eyes lighting up as I saw Thor on the cover. I sure loved that man, and I even had a life-size cardboard cutout of him in my bedroom that kept me company at night.
“July.”
I looked up to find Dean standing in the ER doors.
“How old are you?” he asked.
My lips thinned.
“Twenty-eight,” I replied softly.
I was barely able to contain the tremble of anger as the words passed through my lips.
He nodded and walked back into the ER, leaving me to my own devices once again.
The man knew my age and my birthday…or he used to.
Now, who knew. I wouldn’t think he’d be able to forget that we shared the same birthday, but apparently I was wrong.
Then again, I was wrong about a lot of things where Dean was concerned.
I stewed for long minutes as I thought about all the things that Dean had done to disappoint me over the last year, and I got so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.
“Ma’am?” another voice startled me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?” I asked the security guard.
“PD asked me to give this to you, and to tell you that he had to go, he had a SWAT call. He said he was sorry and that he’d send someone over to give you a ride home,” he advised.
I took my phone, something I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten, and licked my dry lips.
“Thanks,” I said, trying not to let the fear over him going on a SWAT call leach into my voice. “I appreciate you telling me.”
The officer nodded, commiseration in his voice. “I was on the SWAT team for ten years, and my wife looked like you every time I got a call out.”
I gave him a wan smile.
“We’re not together,” I said softly.
Bitterly.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding somewhat amused. “I can see that neither of you care about each other at all.”
With that he walked away, leaving me to my misery.
Fucking Dean.
Fucking Alexa.
She’d been the reason that Dean had left me.
Not completely, no. I’d been the one to make him feel guilty every time he left, after all. But she’d been the one who handed him the hammer so he could drive that final nail into the coffin that was our relationship.
***
One year and one month ago
The beginning of the end.
Three loud beeps, followed by a loud solid beep had me turning my eyes to survey the coffee table that was currently holding my nail polish, nail polish remover, as well as about a billion cotton balls.
A little black box had me staring at it in confusion.
“Is that what I think that is?” I asked Dean, turning my head to him.
He got up and walked to it, picking it up in his hands, staring at it.
“Pager,” he said, clipping it to his belt. “I’ve got to go.”
“Go where?” I asked in confusion.
“SWAT call,” he answered, looking away from me.
“What?” I breathed, my voice so soft I could barely hear it.
Dean did, though, and he looked at me like I’d screamed it.
“SWAT call out. I gotta go,” he answered, walking toward me.