Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 71074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I don’t say anything to her because all the words get stuck in my throat. She grabs a pad from the side table and writes down numbers. "What’s the damage?" I try to stretch my legs, but the tightness in them makes me wince.
"Blood pressure is high, but given the fact that you were shot, that is normal," she says, and I see the IV line inside my hand now. "What do you want to know?" She puts down the pad, and I look at her.
She’s always been beautiful. The first time I came by to deliver Ethan’s things he left behind, I was struck by her beauty. I was also struck by the innocence in her eyes. I also knew she was off-limits in so many ways. "You’re a doctor?" I say, and she shakes her head.
"I’m a nurse," she says. "Ethan wants me to call him when you're up." She grabs her phone, texting him now.
"Where am I?" I ask her, and she looks at me.
"My spare bedroom," she says. "They brought you here. You were in and out of it."
"How long have I been out?" I ask, seeing the sun straining to come into the shades. I imagine it’s been a couple of hours. I got here during the night, so I must have been out at least six hours.
"Since the last time, sixteen hours," she says, and I’m shocked. "Since you showed up, two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” I say, shocked, my mind going around and around as I think about it.
“You kept coming in and out of it," she tells me, and I wonder if I said anything. "Twitched a couple of times, but other than that, you were good." She sits down on the stool beside my bed, and I look over at the desk with all the tools you would have in a hospital. "I have to say, I didn’t know if you were going to make it."
I nod my head. "I didn’t see the white light, so I’m assuming it was all peachy."
"If you died in my house." She puts her phone back in her pocket. "There would be hell to pay." She tries to joke, but I can see the seriousness in her eyes as she looks down and then tucks her hair behind her ear. From the first time I met Chelsea, I was pulled to her, but the fact that I was too old and that she was off-limits made me watch her from afar.
"I’ll remember that if I see the light." I close my eyes now. "Why am I so tired?"
"Your body suffered major injuries," she says. "To be honest, I’m surprised you're even up now."
"I need to talk to Ethan," I say, trying to keep my eyes open.
"He’s on his way," she says softly. "He should be here soon."
"Don’t give me anything else to sleep." I fight to keep my eyes open. "I need to be alert."
"Mayson." She puts her hand into mine, and the heat seeps into my bones. "We got you."
"I still need to be alert," I tell her, not adding that as soon as I’m able to walk, I’m leaving. There is no way I’m going to have this come to their front doors.
Ethan and his family have accepted me and welcomed me with open arms, none of them asking me a single fucking question. Ethan knows what it’s like to keep secrets. When he was serving with me, he was hiding and fighting his own secrets. If I’m honest, half the men out there are fighting their own secrets. I lift the cover and see the bandage on my side and see the little bit of pink from the blood. "You got twenty stitches there," she says, and I look at her. My eyes going to the white medical tape on both sides of my ribs. "I can’t say for sure without an X-ray, but you have at least three broken ribs."
"I’ll survive," I say, my hand holding one side and then the other. "What about my legs?"
"Seventy stitches. So far, they look good. But I’m not a plastic surgeon, so they might leave a scar," she says, and I look down at my hands. They are swollen and red with white bandages around both wrists. "How long were you tied up for?"
I take a deep breath, the pain making me close my eyes. "If you don’t mind…"
"If I don’t mind," she says, her voice tight. "I do mind." She looks at me, and I see her eyes get a deep blue now. "I mind that for the last fourteen days, I’ve prayed more than I have in my whole life. If you had died," she says, and I can see that her lower lip quivers just a bit, but she fights it back. "That would have been on my hands. In my house."