Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I did my best. He is the one to blame for my sister’s innocence being lost.
He is the one to blame for a lot of things.
“We want to keep her overnight for observation.” Dr. Scott glances into the room where Wren now rests in bed. If he wasn’t one of the five families, he surely wouldn’t give me any of Wren’s medical information, but lucky for me he is one of us and has been informed about the situation.
Tia is reading aloud from one of the books she brought along with her to keep herself occupied. Every once in a while, something that passes for a smile touches the corners of Wren’s swollen mouth.
“You think she’s got something seriously wrong with her?” I can’t stand the idea. What am I going to do if something happens to her?
“No, nothing like that. We only want to be sure, since she did hit her head while falling down the stairs. Otherwise, she does have several broken ribs, but her lungs are fine. It’ll hurt to breathe for a little while, but she’ll heal up quickly, as young as she is. There are contusions. Her knees and elbows are a little torn up, but it’s superficial enough that we are confident she can go home tomorrow, barring any surprises.”
Thanking him, I lean against the wall outside the room and release a shuddering breath. Now that the adrenaline rush has passed, and I can actually think again, I’m kind of amazed nobody thought to ask whether I’m the one who put her in that bed. That would be my first thought if I was at a hospital and saw a guy carrying a girl in who’d had her ass kicked. The doctors and nurses wanted to see her alone at first, and I’m guessing they asked her those personal questions at the time. She must have convinced them I had nothing to do with it.
My whole body tenses when I feel the buzzing in my pocket from my phone. We’ve been here at the hospital for a few hours, waiting for x-rays and CAT scans and all that, but the whole time, I’ve been waiting for a phone call. Confirmation that my father is no longer going to be an issue.
Which is why ice forms in my veins when I get the news. “He was gone when we got there.” Paul mutters some choice profanities under his breath while I close my eyes and fight for air. I should have ended him. The fucking coward. Running from the consequences of his actions yet again.
“He can’t have gotten far,” I decide, though I don’t believe myself. Not really. It’s what I need to force myself to believe. “I kicked the shit out of him. He might be dead right now if Wren hadn’t stopped me.”
“Trust me when I tell you he will be found. There are a lot of bodies out there hunting for him. It won’t be long.”
I want to believe that. I have to.
One thing is for sure, in the middle of so much uncertainty: I’m not leaving Wren alone. She won’t go through this by herself. It means I have to keep Tia occupied—walks up and down the hall, a couple of visits to the cafeteria, full control over the TV. Finally, by the time the sky is fully dark, she’s fast asleep on the pullout sofa in the corner.
That leaves Wren and me on our own, sort of. We don’t have to speak in code when she’s asleep. I’m in a recliner next to the bed, facing the TV like Wren is, watching an old comedy but not paying attention to a word of it. Remembering the satisfaction of hurting him. Remembering every drop of blood I spilled.
“What’s going to happen now?” she whispers, turning her face toward me while I do the same so I can look at her. She is still so beautiful under all that bruising.
“What do you mean?” Reaching out, I close a hand over hers, careful not to mess with the IV tubes pumping her full of saline and pain meds.
“What happens now? We know who was threatening me. I guess I should move back to the dorm? Although…” Her voice trails off like she’s unsure of herself or doesn’t want to say what’s on her mind.
“Not until they find him.” And even then, I don’t know if I’d be able to let her out of my sight for too long. I don’t ever want to feel what I felt when I reached that basement and saw what he was doing to her, what he could easily do because I wasn’t there to stop him. That sort of soul-crushing, nauseating helplessness and guilt.
“But he could come back to the house, right?” There’s panic at the edge of her words and all I want is to take it all away.