Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Don’t bust my door,” I yelled back, the pain in my head almost bringing me to my knees again.
“Open it,” he snapped.
Holding on to the counter, I reached out and unlocked the door, letting him swing it open.
“Fuck,” he said, getting a good look at me.
“Yeah, no shit,” I whispered, squinting against the light.
“Bad one?”
“Worst I’ve had in a while,” I muttered as he helped me out of the bathroom.
“Scared the shit outta Esther,” he said as he walked me toward the kitchen. He’d thankfully dimmed the lights.
“She okay?” I asked, panic tightening my chest. “How long was I out?”
“Long enough,” he murmured. “She’s fine.”
“Otto,” Esther said, coming out of the kitchen. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I whispered as her arms came around me, holding me tight. “Sorry I scared ya.”
“I didn’t know what happened.” She sounded like she was crying, but I couldn’t see her face and it was taking every ounce of willpower I had to stay on my feet. My head felt like it was going to explode. “I called your mom. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, looking up to see my mom and Myla at the table.
“You look like shit,” Myla announced sympathetically.
“Found your pills,” my mom said, coming toward me with a glass of water. “You wanna take them now or wait until you’re in bed?”
The events of the night came into clear focus, and if I was steady on my feet, I would’ve hit something. “Can’t take ’em,” I replied. I started to shake my head but stopped at the piercing pain in my skull. “They’ll knock me out.”
“Take them,” Esther ordered, pulling away. “You can barely stand up.”
“Titus,” I muttered, closing my eyes as Micky’s arm came back around me, holding me steady. “Esther’s sister. Can’t be down in case—”
“I don’t think you have a choice, son,” my mom said flatly. “You’re no good to anyone like this.”
“Shit.” My dad’s voice came from behind me. “How long’s he been like this?”
“Esther called me twenty minutes ago,” my mom answered. “He won’t take his pills.”
“Knock me out,” I mumbled again. Damn it, I just wanted to sit down. My stomach churned and I could feel sweat breaking out all over my body.
“I can’t stay,” Micky said apologetically. “Don’t wanna leave Emilia and Rhett home alone with everythin’ that’s goin’ on.”
“We’ll take ’em home with us,” my dad replied.
“Not ridin’ in a car,” I argued, opening my eyes. The only thing I could think of that would make the migraine worse would be sitting in a moving vehicle. I gagged.
“No choice,” my dad replied.
“This is a migraine?” Esther asked skeptically. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take him to the hospital?”
“He’s had them since he was little,” my mom replied, reaching out to rub her back. “All he needs are his pills and to sleep it off. Promise.”
“Can you go pack whatever you two will need for the night?” my dad asked her gently. “I’ll load him into Heather’s rig.”
“You will?” Micky asked jokingly as he started leading me to the front door. “I’d like to see you hold his huge ass up.”
“Shut it,” my dad shot back.
Esther reluctantly followed us to the door and then turned and hurried up the stairs.
“Perfect fuckin’ night for this to happen,” I muttered as the cool night air hit my face. “Jesus.”
“Could’ve picked a better one,” Dad agreed. “No worries, bud. You guys can stay with us tonight.”
“You talk to Titus?” I asked as Micky helped me into the front seat.
“Worry about that tomorrow.”
“They could show up here when I’m at work.” Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the seat.
“Here,” my mom said, shoving a plastic bag at me. “For when you puke.”
“Not pukin’ in the car.” That was all Esther needed after the night she’d had—watching me hurl my guts up while she was stuck in a small space with me.
“We’ll see,” my mom replied. “Open.”
I took the pills she shoved into my mouth without complaint. By that point, knowing Esther was safe, I was willing to do anything to stop the excruciating pain.
The car door shut, and I listened in a daze as they all talked outside the car. A few minutes later, Esther and Myla climbed in the back seat, and my mom got behind the wheel.
“Brace yourself,” she said sympathetically, patting my knee.
The car ride to my parents’ house was as miserable as I’d imagined. I puked twice, barely making it into the plastic bag the first time. My shirt was wet with sweat as Micky helped me back out of the SUV, and I couldn’t even look at Esther as he helped me into the house. We’d been married for a week and she was already seeing me at my worst. Fucking fantastic. I would’ve been really embarrassed if I’d been able to focus on anything except my head.