Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
He moved over, letting me pass, and I caught up to the last nurse.
I overtook her, too, and hit the second-floor landing and yanked the large metal door open before following the last nurse and doctor.
They were all standing outside of a room—Verity’s room—and staring in like they didn’t know what to do.
I could hear Tank snarling, and in between snarls were pained whimpers that he was trying very hard to contain.
“Move,” I barked out, pushing my way past the nurses and doctors gathered around the entrance.
They moved, and I almost wished they hadn’t.
Because on the floor was a nightmare.
Blood was…everywhere.
On the bed, on the floor, on the walls. If you had any imagination at all, this was worse.
A man lay dead, his throat torn out, on the floor.
Elais Beckett.
I could just see the edge of Verity’s hair as it lay fanned out on the floor, the last three quarters of an inch slowly becoming saturated with the blood that was pooling on the floor.
Her face was stark white, and small dots of perspiration were coating it.
And then there was Tank.
His left hind leg was hanging limply, and his eyes were wild as he tried to stay upright.
He had blood on him, too, but I couldn’t figure out if it was his or not.
I took a step forward, and Tank’s head snapped up.
His growl became deeper, and I realized that Tank wasn’t all the way home at the moment.
“Help me.”
Those whispered words had me trying to take another step, but Tank took a threatening step forward. Protecting his charge like he was told to do.
“Fuck,” I grated. “Big Papa…”
“Shit,” Big Papa said as he made his way up to my side.
He looked worse up close than he did far away, and I realized then that what I thought was just a cut was a goddamn gunshot.
“You’re about to fall over,” I said. “And you got shot in the head.”
Big Papa shrugged.
And that was when Truth arrived.
“Verity!”
Truth’s scream was heart-wrenching as he ran toward us.
“Truth…” I started to say, trying to grab his hand.
He shook me off and barreled into the room.
Tank went nuts.
Truth backed away, a look of horror on his face as he saw all the blood and Verity lying on the floor.
“Take him out!”
I pulled my gun free of its holster.
“He’s hurt, and not thinking straight. You’re not killing him,” Big Papa was bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“She’s dying!” Truth screamed.
My heart hurt.
But I knew, if I had to kill Tank, I wouldn’t feel bad about it. At least not until afterwards. Not when it came to Verity’s life.
“Find Aaron!” Big Papa bellowed. “He’s the only one who’s going to call him off.”
I pulled my phone out with my free hand and dialed Aaron’s number.
“Hello?” Aaron answered.
“Where are you?” I barked.
“I’m right here…what’s going on?”
I breathed a sigh of relief when Aaron rounded the corner, a to-go drink from Chili’s in his hand.
He saw all of us waiting outside, his brows furrowed, and then he rounded the corner and saw what the wall was hiding from him.
Truth tried to take another step toward Verity, and Tank launched.
“Tank!” Aaron shouted. “Platz!”
Tank fell to his haunches, then rolled over all in one move.
His head fell to the ground, and he started to whine.
Truth launched himself over the dog, gathering Verity into his arms.
The doctors, nurses, and other hospital personnel rushed in as well.
And then everything went to shit.
The dog died. Verity died. Beckett died.
Everyone fucking died.
***
Truth
Something heavy fell from the bed that they—at least ten nurses and doctors—were standing around.
I let my eyes fall to the floor.
Bloody footprints were everywhere.
Nurses were slipping in it. One nurse in particular was covered from ass to ankle from when she’d slipped, fallen and gotten up.
Verity was clinically dead. That’s what the doctor told me, anyway.
“Get him out of here!”
The same doctor that told me she was dead also kicked me out of the hospital room.
They were doing chest compressions on Verity’s small body, and each pump of the doctor’s arm I could hear her ribs breaking.
They weren’t even in a room. They weren’t down in the ER.
They were in the fucking hallway right outside of the room where her life had been stolen from her and snuffed out right before my eyes.
My hands were numb. My brain was, too.
The only thing I could feel was the gaping hole in my chest.
“Everyone clear!”
Every single person moved away from the gurney, and the man wielding the paddles—ones I’d seen many times throughout my years of combat— placed them on Verity’s bare chest as I watched helplessly.
The moment her tiny naked body jolted off the bed, I lost it.
I moved to run, but before I could take a step, I was pulled into Big Papa’s arms as they encircled me in a bear hug. He held tight and yanked me back.