Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
"Sir—" I began.
"G'way," he mumbled. He tried to swat at me again.
"Sir, I just need to know if the generator isn't working. I can fix it—"
"Way!" he shouted, though his voice sounded hoarse and there was no real power behind the word. But I wasn't a glutton for punishment. The guy was alive and well and still a jerk. And on top of that, his slurred words meant he was just drunk.
The cabin, though cold, wasn't an immediate danger. If the jackass lying in front of me preferred to bundle up in blankets rather than enjoy the luxury of heat, that was up to him.
I didn't bother telling him to call me if he needed anything as I stood up. I walked away, eyeing the fireplace as I went. Every instinct in me wanted to at least get it going for him, but then I remembered how he'd tried to push me away.
Fuck him, I growled silently to myself. The dick was on his own. As wrong as it felt to just leave him there like that, that was exactly what I did. When I reached the kitchen, I realized Brewer wasn't at my side. I whistled for him, but as the seconds passed, I didn't hear his nails click-clacking along the floor. "Brewer," I called and waited. I was rewarded with a high-pitched whine followed by Brewer's distinctive howl. I called the dog again but got the same exact response.
I hurried back to the living room only to find that Brewer was pawing at the man on the couch. "Brewer," I called sharply. While Mr. Parnell had never had an issue with me having Brewer and taking him to the cabins, if the asshole on the couch complained about the dog, I’d have no choice but to leave him at home when I went to the cabins. Not only would the very social and active Brewer be devastated at being locked up at home, I’d miss having the dog by my side day in and day out. I’d gotten used to his company and wasn't sure what I’d do without him as my constant shadow.
Brewer continued to ignore me, so I went to the couch to grab him by the collar. As I began to pull him away, the dog shocked me when he turned his head and closed his teeth over my hand. He didn't press hard enough to actually bite; it was more of a gentle hold. The large animal gave me a tug and then released my hand. When I didn't move, Brewer did the same thing again. He whined deep in his throat and then seconds later started howling again. I stepped forward to grab him once more, this time determined to pull him away, when I tripped over the bag next to the couch. I was about to push the offending thing out of my path with my foot when my eyes caught on an all-too-familiar item lying on the floor.
Brewer continued to whine and howl as I bent down to open the little bag. My stomach dropped out at the sight of its contents. I snapped my eyes up to the man lying on the couch and then let out a harsh curse. This time when I moved Brewer so I could get closer to the man, the dog quickly got out of my way. I sat down on the edge of the couch and stripped the blankets down to the man's waist. I dropped my hand to his forehead to confirm that the little glistening spots I'd seen on his skin were, in fact, sweat. There was absolutely no reason for him to be sweating when the cabin was as cold as it was. Even with as many blankets as he had on him, it wouldn't have kept him so warm that he’d be perspiring.
But there was one thing that would be causing him to sweat. "Sir," I said quickly as I shook him hard to get his attention. At the same time, I reached down to swipe the bag off the floor and began rifling through it. When I found what I was looking for, I quickly grabbed for his hand. It took just seconds to prick his finger and collect the tiny amount of blood I needed to figure out what his blood sugar was. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. When I saw the number on the glucose meter, I tossed the supplies aside and stumbled to my feet. I hurried to the kitchen, praying as I went. I hadn't talked to the man upstairs in many years, but I found myself inadvertently bargaining with him.
Which made no sense since I hated the bastard for everything he’d done to me, for what he’d taken from me.