Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
She’s wild and has a fucking good time, but the girl has layers. She asks questions no one has ever asked like she really wants to know the answers, and like a fool, I talk and keep talking to her.
No, it’s never been casual between us, but now, whatever this is I feel, I don’t know, it’s something else.
Something more.
A woman hesitates at the entrance to the hospital room, and I can tell she’s Willow’s mom. They have the same eyes.
“Ms. Martinez,” I say and wrap my arms around her. “Hi, I’m Joaquin, Willow’s friend. I just talked to the doctor, and Willow’s going to be fine.”
The woman slumps in relief and says, “That’s good. I knew her silly love of bikers would get her in trouble.”
I suck in a breath but don’t take offense at her words because I know she’s hurting. Instead, I say calmly, “Actually, Willow’s friend has been missing for a while now, and she’s been worried about her, so I took her to Sandee’s job so she could get some answers.”
“Sandee’s missing?”
I’m surprised but happy she knows. It says something about Willow that she keeps her mom in the loop about her life. “For a while now,” I say, feeling new respect for this woman. “Willow’s been going out of her mind with worry, so I went with her because I had a feeling Sandee’s ex wouldn’t like us asking questions. Looks like I was right.”
Shit. The half-lie that I tell Willow’s mother triggers an idea I want to pass along to Ace. It might be nothing, but it doesn’t feel like nothing.
I offer Mrs. Martinez a chair. “Would you like to sit?”
She nods and takes the chair at Willow’s side. “How do you know my daughter?”
“We’ve been seeing each other,” I admit easily.
She smiles. “No wonder she hasn’t been around much. Are you treating her well?”
I nod. “I’m trying to,” I answer and look at Willow, looking so frail and lifeless in the bed. I know I failed to keep her safe, and that shit pisses me off. “She’s a firecracker,” I assure her mother as if that makes up for my shortcomings.
Her mom smiles. “That’s Willow. From the moment she could walk, she’s had enough energy for three children. Wild and smart and so much fun.”
I sigh. “Sounds like the Willow I know.” How long before I get that Willow back? The question puts a hole in my heart. “How are you doing with everything?” I say to cover up my own pain.
“Fine,” she sighs. “I know Willow worries about me, but I’m good.”
I nod, unsure of what else to say. I’ve never had to meet a chick’s parents before. “She says you two are a team, and she always wants to make sure you’re all right.” At least I know that much is true.
Ms. Martinez smiles. “She’s had to grow up too soon, and that’s my fault. I had her too early before I matured and realized how much responsibility a baby was, especially without a partner.”
“She’s perfect,” I say instinctively. “I’ll give you a minute with her,” I say and leave when she nods and turns to chat softly with Willow’s unconscious form.
I dip into the waiting area in the middle of the hospital for some privacy and call Ace. He doesn’t answer, so I try Dix.
“How’s Willow?”
“Fine,” I say and give him a quick review of what Nova told me earlier. “Listen, something isn’t sitting right with me. The bullet that hit Willow was dipped in poison from a South American frog.”
“South American?” From the tone in his voice, I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
“Yeah. But they either had to have followed us from Club Dynasty, or someone told them we were asking questions about Sandee. Who apparently was fucking Nogales.”
“Okay, I feel ya, brother. Let me see if I can pry Ace away from Kenna, and I’ll get back to you soon.”
“All right. Thanks,” I say before ending the call. But back in the room, I find Ms. Martinez crying over Willow. I go to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“My poor baby girl,” she sobs.
“She’s going to be fine,” I assure her. “Doctor says she needs as much rest as possible to help her heal.”
A chime sounds, and it’s like a flip switches on Willow’s mom. She pushes out of the chair, casting one last look at her daughter with a sad smile. “My shift starts soon, and I need to grab my uniform.”
“Visiting hours are just about over anyway,” I say, moving the chair for her. “Why don’t I walk you out?”
She smiles and nods. “You gonna worry about me until Willow is well enough to take over again?”
I nod. “Something like that.”
She rolls her eyes, a move that reminds me exactly of Willow when she’s annoyed or exasperated or even receiving a compliment.