Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
I ran out of my house knowing where I wanted to go and who I wanted to be with, and now I wasn’t sure.
“Come on,” I groaned, eyes closing and head dropping back against the seat. I felt the beginnings of tears prick behind my lids.
I should’ve talked to Syd earlier. Maybe if I would’ve instead of lying to my best girl, telling her I was fine so I wouldn’t have to reveal why I wasn’t, I’d be able to make a damn decision. Go to him or don’t. One or the other.
“Claim me, babe.”
God, I wanted to. And in the same breath, I was terrified.
Was Jamie McCade even claimable?
My phone started ringing.
Opening my eyes and turning my head, I looked down at my passenger seat and read the name of the caller flashing on the screen.
Shit. I completely forgot. I promised my mom I would get on my dad about going to the doctor’s again. She was probably calling to remind me of that.
I hit Answer and pressed the phone to my ear.
“I am so, so sorry. I forgot to call him,” I said as a greeting, expecting my mother.
“Princess, it’s your father.”
“Oh.” I blinked. That was unexpected. “Hi, Daddy. How are you feeling?” I asked, wiping away smudged mascara from underneath my eyes.
“Expected something like this from your mother, Tori. Not from you,” he replied, voice hard-edged and angry. “Told you I was fine and you can’t trust me to handle things if and when I feel it’s necessary.”
“It wasn’t heartburn, John! And now we know!” my mother hollered out in the background. “Thank God we didn’t wait for you to handle things!”
I felt my brow tighten.
What in the world?
“Doc said what I was feeling mimicked the sensations of heartburn, Dee,” my father argued away from the phone. “Wasn’t like I was that off base.”
“You were completely off base!” she argued back.
“What are you both talking about?” I probed, wondering why I was in the middle of a conversation the two of them seemed to be having.
The line made a clicking noise, then my dad started talking.
“That doc came by the house about an hour ago,” he said, his voice insinuating I knew what he was referring to. “Now, princess, I know you’re just looking out for your old man, but that was something that should’ve been cleared with me first. Don’t like people just showing up at my house. Especially if I don’t even know ’em. Hell, he was lucky I didn’t shoot first and ask questions later. I was in my right.”
“Oh, John. Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother scoffed, her voice clear now and as loud as his. She had picked up the other house phone. “You were not in your right to shoot him. My God,” she added.
“Got a No Trespassin’ sign up, Dee. I was in my right.”
“I’m sorry,” I cut in before my mom had a chance to keep disagreeing. “But I really have no idea what you’re both talking about. Did a doctor come see you or something?”
“You know he did, princess. You arranged the damn thing.”
I squinted out the front windshield. “What? I didn’t arrange anything. Who said that?”
“Said he was doing a favor for his brother. That he insisted,” Dad replied. “Mc-something. I don’t know. I can’t read this chicken scratch handwriting. Here, Dee.”
Mc-something?
Oh, my God.
I sucked in a breath, stomach tensing as I asked, “What?” on a whisper.
“McCade. His name was McCade,” my mom said. “Ooh, and he was young, wasn’t he, John? I didn’t know doctors could be that young.”
“His name was McCade?” I asked in a quick voice, sitting forward in my seat and gripping the phone harder.
“That’s another thing,” Dad grumbled. “Not sure I should be taking orders from some kid. What’s he know anyway?”
“I like that he’s young. Means his mind is fresh on the books,” Mom contended.
“Would you both quit arguing and pay attention to what I’m saying?” I shrieked, now gripping hold on the steering wheel with one hand. “You said his name was McCade? Is that what I heard?”
“Yes. Dr. McCade,” my mom answered, also speaking in a way it was as if I should know this information already. “His first name is Travis.”
“How’d you know that?” Dad asked, sounding flippant.
“It says so right here on the prescription. Really, if you would just wear your glasses—”
“Forget the glasses!” I interrupted. “Jamie had his brother come to your house and treat you? He … he really did that? Are you sure his last name was McCade?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Pumpkin, why are you acting like you don’t know anything about this?” Mom asked.
“Because I don’t know anything about this,” I informed both of them, breathing heavy now I was so worked up. “I can’t believe … wait, what did he tell you? That it’s not heartburn? What else?”