Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
The nurses gave me big smiles as I passed by their station on Bonnie’s new ward. So far, her body wasn’t rejecting the heart and she was doing well, well enough to leave intensive care. I took a deep breath as I approached her new room. Only when I got there, Mr. Farraday was standing outside. “Hi,” I said and moved to open the door.
He stepped into my path. I frowned. His face was pale and sad, filled with regret. “She’s refusing to see anyone, Cromwell.” I heard the words, but they didn’t sink in. I tried to move past her dad again. But he only blocked my path once more.
“Let me through.” My voice was low and threatening. I knew it. But I didn’t care. I just had to get in there to her.
Mr. Farraday shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. But she’s…she’s finding life real hard at the minute. She doesn’t want to see you. Any of us.” I saw the agony on his face. “I’m just trying to make things better for her, son. Any way I can.”
My jaw clenched and my hands started to shake. They curled into fists. “Bonnie!” I called, my voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the ward. “Bonnie!” I screamed. Mr. Farraday tried to usher me back. “BONNIE!” I dodged Mr. Farraday and burst through the door to her room.
Bonnie was sitting in bed, her back propped up against pillows. She was staring out of the window. Then she turned to me. “Bonnie,” I said and took a step forward. But I froze mid-step when Bonnie looked away. When she turned her back on me completely.
And then they came. The floodgates opened, and all the emotions of the past few weeks came hurtling forward like the heavy crescendo of a bass drum.
I stepped back and back again as I pictured Easton with his wrists slit. Bonnie having a heart attack in my arms. Easton on the gurney, the rope hanging from the tree. Then Bonnie…finding out Easton was gone, that his heart now beat as hers.
And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fucking cope. I turned just as two security guards came toward me. I held up my hands. “I’m going. I’m going!” I risked a glance back at Bonnie, but her back was still to me. I started jogging down the corridor, but before I’d even made it out of the hospital I was at a full sprint. I made it to my truck, all the colors and emotions melding into one. My brain pulsed like a drum. My head ached, pressure behind my eyes so strong I could barely see.
Neon colors were fireworks in my brain, lighting up until I couldn’t take it. I slammed my truck into park and practically jumped from the car. I burst through the music building, no plan ahead, just following my feet. My fist pounded on a door.
The door flew open, and Lewis’s face was all I could see. I grabbed my head, and then, not caring if anyone heard, said, “I want to do the gala.”
Lewis’s mouth fell open, and I saw the shock on his face. I brushed past him and entered his office. “Bonnie got the heart.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Easton killed himself…” My voice broke, and sadness crashed over me like a tidal wave. I choked on the memory of the rope, the gurney…of Bonnie.
“Cromwell.” Lewis stepped closer.
I pushed out my hand. “No.” He stopped dead. “I came to you because no one else understands.” I hit my head with the heel of my hand. “You see what I see, feel what I feel.” I sucked in a breath. “I need help.” My hands fell away from me, my body starting to lose energy. “I need your help with the music. It’s building up. The colors. The patterns.” I shook my head. “The music is too much, too much at once, the colors too bright.”
Lewis came closer again. Just as he reached me, as he held out his hand, I stepped back. I saw his face. I saw the desperation. I saw the need to talk. Then my eyes tracked their way to the flask on his desk. The liquor. The dark circles under his eyes. “I’m not here for anything else.” He froze, then he pushed his hand through his hair. Just like I did. That was another crowbar to my gut. I choked on my voice, but managed, “I’m here for the music. I don’t want to talk about anything else. Just please…” My eyes dripped with tears. Bonnie’s rejection was spurring me on. If she heard my music, if I played the gala, she’d hear the music was for her. She’d see that I loved her. She’d see she had a life to live for.