Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But he did know a lot of the cops. And they would absolutely say something to him if they got word—either through legitimate sources, or the ones that greased their crooked palms to look the other way to their criminal dealings—that something happened to me.
“I’m gonna go get you some drinks to have nearby. You want anything to eat? Those pain meds and antibiotics will probably give you a stomach ache if you don’t put something in,” he added.
“Sure,” I agreed, mostly just because it would give me a few minutes alone to call my parents.
He didn’t ask what I might like.
Because he knew all of that.
All the foods I craved and under what situations I craved them. PMS? I wanted grease, not chocolate. Bad day? I drowned that in mac & cheese. Celebration? I would opt for ice cream or ice cream cake over anything baked.
He knew all that.
Because he knew me better than almost anyone on the Earth.
Damnit.
As soon as he was gone, I grabbed my phone and dialed my mom.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“Hey, Ma. Are you at work or home?”
“Home. Why? Is something up? You sound off.”
“Is Dad home?”
“He’s right here. What’s going on?” she asked, voice hitting that borderline hysterical edge that moms got when they were worried about their kids. Even if their kids were grown.
I heard the background noise as my mom switched me to speaker.
“Do I need to dig out my lye?” my father asked, and that old, familiar line made my lips twitch even after such a shitstorm of a day.
“Okay. Listen. I’m fine,” I prefaced.
“Oh, God. What happened?” my mom asked.
“Do I need bail money?” my father asked, keeping calmer. I doubted it was because he was actually feeling calm, but rather that he was trying to keep my mom from going too overboard.
“No. It’s okay. I was on a job.”
“With the Henchmen,” my mom clarified.
“Yes. And I was sort of babysitting slash protecting this girlfriend of one of the members. And things went upside down. And I ended up shot,” I told them, laying it all out there to get the shock part of it out quickly.
I heard the indrawn breath of my mom, so it was my dad who spoke next.
“Why am I not hearing the sounds of monitors, baby?” he asked, voice a bit more stern than usual since he already knew the answer. Because I didn’t go to the hospital.
“It wasn’t that bad. It was a through and through. Kind of the fleshy part of my butt and the upper side of my thigh.”
“It wasn’t bad,” my mother scoffed. “Louana, you got shot. Getting shot is always, by definition, bad.”
“I mean, yeah, but it could have been worse is all I am saying. I’m okay. I’ve been cleaned up and provided antibiotics and pain medicine. Which should be kicking in at any point.”
“I should have said I didn’t want you prospecting,” my mom grumbled.
“You know that would have only made her want to do it more,” my father reasoned.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I mean, objectively, this is actually a lot less dangerous than what I have been doing for the past several years,” I reasoned with her.
“Listen, I just blanked all that out,” my mom said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
She had been, when she’d met my father, a poisons expert who spent her life traveling around the world. She knew a thing or two about danger. But it had never stopped her either.
I guess it was just different when it wasn’t you, it was your kid. Which I had to understand. It was why I never talked much about the nastier parts of the job when she was around. But if she ran out or went to bed, that was when my dad got all the other stories out of me.
“Really, I’m okay. And if things start to seem weird, you guys know there are multiple places I can go to get taken care of. There’s Lo’s medical team at Hailstorm. And there is that lady who is related to the Grassi Family…”
“Lettie,” my father supplied.
“Yeah, her. I have options that are just as good as the hospitals. If not better since I would be one-on-one with the doctors and nurses.”
“I want to come see you,” my mother demanded.
“Okay. Just not tonight, okay?” I asked, feeling like a shitty daughter for making that demand. “Things are still kind of crazy since I was shot and Finn was shot. And we couldn’t save the girl, so now everyone else is trying to. I think we need a night or two just to calm things down.”
“Honey, I will give you the night since you are probably going to pass out from the pain medicine anyway,” my mother said. “But you are only getting one night. I don’t care if they want me there or not. I am coming. I will call in Lo and all the moms in that girls club to stand up for me if I need to.”