Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I laughed, because it was Preppy and impossible not to. However, it didn’t last long because sharp pain sliced through my shoulder. I hissed through my teeth. “Don’t make me laugh,” I choked out.
“That might be impossible. I’m a really, really funny guy,” Preppy said, wagging his eyebrows. He took my hand and pressed it against his face. I reached out two of my fingers and stroked the hair free patch of skin from his eye to where his beard starts.
“I know,” I said. “You’re also really, really mine.”
“Don’t you fucking forget it.” A lone tear spilled from the side of his eye and rolled down his cheek into his beard. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His other arm in a sling.
“Did you finish it?” I asked. “Is he...”
“Yeah. He’s gone.”
“Good,” I whispered, my eyes growing heavy. “Where’s Bo?”
“He’s fine. He’s playing with Ray and the kids. Didn’t want to bring him here until I knew you were going to be okay.”
“Good,” I said, willing my eyes not to close. I needed to see him more. To know he was okay. To know that the life we were planning together was no longer going to be cut short.
“You can rest now. I’ll be here when you wake up, Doc,” Preppy said.
I nodded, unable to argue or put up much of a fight. My limbs joining my eyes in feeling weighed down and tired. But before I could close my eyes I spotted something in the corner of the room. King and Bear, along with a nurse in dark scrubs. They were lifting a big grey bag onto a gurney. “One more question,” I said, turning back to Preppy who kissed the back of my hand.
“Yeah.”
“Who’s in the bag?” I asked, pointing with my eyes to the scene in the corner.
“Hmmmmm...J. Edgar Hoover?” Preppy answered, a ridiculous fake smile plastered on his face that exposed both his top and bottom teeth.
“Try again.”
He sighed. “How about I promise to tell you all about it later. For now, just know that it’s a really bad guy who did really bad things, who is going to a really, really hot place.”
“Hell?”
“The incinerator at the morgue,” Preppy whispered. He placed his other hand over my cheek gently, stroking my skin with his thumb. “Now rest, Doc.”
“Okay,” I agreed, drifting off. This time my sleep was anything but dreamless. All night I dreamt of home. Bo. Preppy.
My family.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Preppy
It was eight in the morning. Kevin took Bo back home with him under the strict guidelines of keeping an eye on him at all times and instructions to ‘keep him away from the kitchen knives or anything sharp’. At least until I had a chance to have a real talk with him about the pros and cons of becoming a real life axe murderer. King and Bear had a body to dispose of. Ray and Thia were with the kids but they both called to tell me they’d be by later on in the day.
I was sitting out in the hallway so Dre’s dad could visit with her alone. When he came back out he told me she’d finally fallen asleep and plopped down across the hall from me on the only other chair. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, making the bags under his eyes look just as bad as mine probably did.
“You gonna tell me, son?” Mr. Capulet asked, leaning forward.
“She didn’t tell you what happened?”
“No, I didn’t want to discuss that with her, not now while she’s still in rough shape, but that’s not what I’m asking you either, not now anyway. I don’t want you to tell me about tonight or about the last time.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “I want you to tell me more about YOU. I think that talk is long overdue, don’t you?”
I’d never cared what anyone thought of me, but Dre cared about her father and his opinion, which made me wary of telling him anything because I didn’t want his opinion of me to change from tolerant to WTF.
“So? Go on,” he prompted.
“Now?”
“She’s sleeping. I’m too tired and wired to do the same and from the looks of it you’re in the same boat. We got time and there’s no time like the present,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
I blew out a long breath. “I don’t even know what Dre’s already told you about me,” I started, rubbing my weary eyes.
“She’s told me some things, but I have a feeling there’s a lot more.” He rested his elbows on his knees and pointed at me. “So why don’t you tell me? Tell me who you are so I know who it is my daughter’s so in love with. Go on, son.” It was the first time the use of the word son didn’t make me cringe.