Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
I glanced at the clock on the dash. It had only been half an hour since I texted Mark. Less than that since my parents showed up. We were making good time.
I kept it together. My breathing was steady. My eyes were dry. The lump in my throat didn’t lessen, but it didn’t grow either.
Then, as we drove past my parents’ driveway, my breath caught and blood pounded behind my eyes as row after row of headlights flashed on. I let out a sob and turned to look out the back window.
They pulled out, two by two, and fell into place behind us.
“They’re coming with us?” I asked, turning to look at my dad in confusion.
“You didn’t think you’d be goin’ up there alone, did you?”
I covered my face with both hands as body racking sobs burst from my chest. How was this happening? What the hell had gone wrong? Eli had said it was an easy job. They were just doing security for a singer. In Portland, for fuck’s sake, it’s not like they’d gone to a war zone.
I forced everything down, inhaled through my nose, slowly exhaled out of my mouth. Falling apart wasn’t going to help anything. It wouldn’t help Mark.
“What do you know?” I rasped, looking at my dad. “Oh my god.” A new thought made my stomach lurch like I’d been punched. “Is everyone else okay?”
He glanced at me and reached over to pat my thigh. “The nerdy one called me.”
“You know his name’s Wilson.”
“Kid is fuckin’ weird,” he said with a huff. “He called me, said that’s protocol if somethin’ happens to Woody?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, clearing my throat as my mom’s hands reached forward to rest on my shoulders. “We thought, with the kids and everything, it would be better if someone told you guys and you told me. So, I wasn’t alone when I found out.” The last few words were almost a whimper. I cleared my throat again, brushing at my wet cheeks.
“Good idea,” my mom said.
“It seemed like a better idea before I had to call Wilson and update Dad’s phone number five times a year.”
“I don’t change it that often.”
“Damn near,” my mom scoffed softly.
“According to the kid, Mark was shot in the chest,” my dad said softly, glancing at me. “He was in and out of it on the way to the hospital, but that was all he knew. Sounded like everyone else was fine. Forrest had a flesh wound.”
“Did he tell you what the hell happened?” I asked, my voice raw.
“He didn’t.”
Chapter 4
Cecilia
I stared blankly as the freeway exits passed, lazily counting them as some kind of measurement of how far we’d gone. It was agonizing to be stuck in the car and a part of me was glad that my dad was driving. I would’ve been going twice as fast.
“Mom,” I called. “Can you please text Molly that breastmilk is in the freezer in the garage? Bottom drawer.”
“Sure thing, doll.”
“And he only takes the bottles with the white lids. The glass ones.”
“Got it.”
“And he’s going to wake up around twelve-thirty.” My eyes filled with tears. I’d been planning on leaving the kids overnight on Valentine’s Day, knowing Forrest would struggle but be okay—but for some reason knowing he was going to wake up and freak out when I wasn’t there made me feel even more awful. “He’ll need a diaper change.” I sniffled. “And four ounces of breastmilk.”
“I’ll tell her,” my mom assured me, her hand still on my shoulder.
I stared out the window, wondering why in God’s name no one from Mark’s team had called me. Sure, they were coworkers, but more than that, they were our family. They had dinner at our house more often than all of my siblings. Every single one of them had been in the waiting room while I had both Meg and Forrest. At one point or another, each of them had stayed with us for extended periods. Had Wilson been wrong? Was anyone else hurt?
The rest of the drive was kind of a blur. At the time, it felt like it was taking days to get to the hospital. It was situated on a hill above the city, so by the time we got off the freeway a couple hours later we could see it but it took another twenty minutes before we were climbing out of the car.
“Straight that way,” my mom said, pointing as I looked around me, almost panicking. The garage was well lit, but I’d gotten completely turned around when we parked.
“Come on, bumblebee,” my dad said, grabbing my hand as he strode toward the elevator.
Sounds of motorcycles roared through the garage, shutting off one by one. “They’ll catch up.”
I hurried along beside him, nervous energy making me twitchy.
“Almost there,” my mom murmured, patting my back.