Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
TEN
Santiago
“Cadence, can you open your eyes for me?” I move back to her, crouching yet again, hands on my knees in a squatting position, afraid to move or jostle her.
“Hmmm?” she questions in a dream-like state, eyes never opening. When she goes to rub her temple, my hand grasps hers, not wanting her to put any pressure on the bruise that’s forming.
“Alright, if you can’t open your eyes or talk to me, I’m calling an ambulance.” It didn’t go unnoticed how her breath quickened when I used an authoritative voice.
“No, no, no, can’t afford it. That bill will set me back.” Emerald-green eyes, fanned by dark, long lashes, open for a fleeting moment, then close once again.
“Cadence, talk to me. I need to know who to call if you won’t go to the hospital.” My hand is still on hers, the other hovering above her face, worried about where to touch her.
“No one here,” she mutters, no longer giving me those green eyes. She’s almost in a slumber-like mood, and that’s when I know I’m going to have to make a call. If she won’t go to the hospital because of money, I’ll bring a doctor here, make sure she’s alright, stay with her until she’s better, then make sure she’s home safe and sound.
“Alright, you stay there.” I let her hand go, seeing as it’s almost limp in my own, and stand back up. Can’t use my desk phone, not like it matters. The number I need is saved in my cell phone, and with any luck, I won’t have my brother to deal with to make me break another phone. I grab my phone and call the doctor I have saved in my phone for when I’m feeling under the weather, refusing to miss a day of work even if that means getting an IV infusion at home to start my day. And with what I pay Doctor Hodges, he’ll make house calls no matter the time of day or night.
“Mr. Martinez, how may I assist you?” He answers the phone on the second ring, prompt as ever, but also because he’s paid more from me than any insurance company would.
“I have a woman who slipped and fell.” I walk back towards her, wanting to keep a close eye on her. “She hit her head on the bookcase in my office while twisting an ankle.”
“Is she coherent? Any bleeding?” Doctor Hodges asks.
“In and out of coherency, stating she can’t afford a hospital. Breathing seems fine. No bleeding, though.” My hand picks hers up again, two fingers going to her pulse. “There’s a pulse, too. Is this normal for her to be like this?”
“Could be a concussion. I won’t know until I’m able to see her and make an assessment. Your house or office? She should be fine to move if she’s breathing and has a normal pulse and will talk when spoken to.” Never in my life have I brought a woman to my penthouse. It’s not something I’ve thought about doing, but the minute Hodges is spotted, the press will be here, and that’s not what I need.
“House, if she’s okay for me to pick up and carry?” There’s no other way around it.
“I’d say so. I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Same as last time, I assume?” He’s asking about the access code to the elevator that is used for personnel to use instead of the front doors.
“Yes, please. Thanks, Doctor Hodges,” I respond before hanging up the phone, pocketing it then spotting her black purse. I could go through the contents, see if Cadence is carrying any sort of identification or a phone to call her next of kin, let them deal with the fallout, give them a few hundred grand to keep this under the rug. There’s something about that idea that has me doing the complete opposite. I grab her purse and place it over my shoulder, looking like the inherent fool I’m turning out to be tonight. Ba-fucking-humbug to this holiday season, not to mention a birthday I don’t even want to celebrate, one that I know won’t go unnoticed come tomorrow. I bend down and scoop her weightless form in my arms, one under the nape of her neck, the other under the bend of her knees, lifting her up. And the damn woman does the least of what I expect. Her arms loop around my shoulders as her head sinks into the crook of my shoulder, as much as one can in this position.
“Cadence, don’t get too comfortable.” She may be pretty, but that doesn’t negate the fact that she’s either a hooker or an escort. Telling that to my dick is a whole other story for the time being.
ELEVEN
Cadence
I wake up slowly, unaware of where I am and what happened. My head is pounding, and my ankle is killing me at the slightest of movements. It’s like I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson even though I know that’s not the case. My eyes that attempted to open seem to droop shut once again. For one, I absolutely know I’m not in my own bed. These sheets, blankets, and pillows. It’s luxurious, the softest of the soft, nothing like mine. I bought my bedding in a bag at a discount store when it was closing down, the closeout giving me a good eighty percent off. I didn’t mind that it went with nothing in my small studio apartment, where you can see the queen-size bed when you walk through the front door. The lilac color fabric with a damask style print was the very last of its kind, and it was also what I could afford. I lift my eyelids again, telling myself to stop floating around in a mindless sensation where I’m in some kind of Candy Land when I should be shoving the blankets off my body and getting out of what I can now see is an upscale home since, you know, my eyes are wide open now. The sun is shining through the window, revealing a view that doesn’t have to tell you how many floors you’re up; it shows you. The city scape that is Los Angeles is at your fingertips, well, almost. That might be exaggerating. It just appears and seems that way. The white walls, gray curtains that must be hung for looks instead of to cut the sun out, the wood flooring, and plush green chair in the corner are only the beginning.