Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
He’s close now, so hot on the escapee’s heels I expect a capture at any moment. But just as Sam reaches his arms forward, looking like he’s about to make a leap for the cat, she cuts hard to the right, veering into the bike lane. Sam follows her without missing a beat.
I shout, “Watch out for the bikes!”
But it’s too late.
The cat zips in front of two pairs of speeding bike wheels without injury. Sam, however, isn’t so lucky. The first bike collides with his hip, knocking him to the ground. The second rider, not having the time to adjust course, rolls right over Sam, who groans and curls into a ball on his side.
He lies still on the ground as the white cat disappears into the trees on the other side of the trail leading into the park.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sam
I’m not sure what hurts more, my internal organs or my pride.
I try to shift onto my hands and knees to crawl off the bike path, but a flash of pain from the middle of my back has me rethinking that plan. As I curl onto my side, my lower ribs don’t feel great, either, but I’m pretty sure nothing’s broken.
Except my dignity.
And my hopes of saving the day for Jess and one fluffy escape artist.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Jess’s knees drop into my limited line of sight from where I lie in a fetal position. A beat later, her worried face leans down to join them. “Are you okay? Sam? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I grunt, wincing as I pull in a deeper breath and fresh pain throbs through my back. “My ears are good. Not so sure about my spine, though.”
She pales. “Oh my God, that’s it, I’m calling an ambulance. Lie still.” She pulls out her cell, pointing a firm finger my way when I try to reach for it. “No, I’m serious. Don’t move a muscle. You could be paralyzed.”
“I’m not paralyzed,” I assure her.
“Or about to be paralyzed,” she says, swiping to unlock the screen, while keeping one wary eye on me. “That’s why they tell you not to move people if you suspect they might have a spinal injury. Because you could make it worse and something fixable could become something tragic.” Her eyes begin to shine as she adds, “And I’m not letting this become something tragic. Not because of me or a cat or that stupid woman with her stupid lips and boobs and earbuds in her stupid earholes.”
I rest a hand on her knee as she taps at the screen. “It’s okay. I really don’t think anything is broken. I’m just a little banged up. Give me a second and I’ll—”
“Hello, yes, my emergency is in Prospect Park,” Jess says to the person on the other end of the line. “By the big arch statue with all the cars zooming in a circle around it. The bike lane by that. Near the library.” She winces and shakes her head. “Right, sorry. It’s my friend. He was chasing a cat and ended up running in front of two asshole bikers who knocked him down and ran him over. He’s on the ground now and can’t get up.”
“It wasn’t their fault,” I say, forcing a weak smile for the two men in bike helmets I now notice standing a few feet behind Jess. Their expressions are a mixture of worry and irritation I completely understand. I was so focused on the cat, I didn’t even notice the bike lane was there. I’m sure I leapt in front of them so fast there was no way they could have adjusted course in time to avoid hitting me.
“Okay, thank you, we’ll keep an eye out for them,” Jess says, her breath rushing out as she gently pets my shoulder. “And yes, he’s conscious. No head injury that I can see, but he’s having trouble moving and said his spine hurts.” Her lips curve into a shaky, but vindicated smile. “Exactly. That’s what I told him. That he has to stay right where he is until the paramedics get here.”
She lifts her chin, her eyes sweeping the area behind me. “I think I hear the sirens,” she tells the woman on the other end of the line. She smiles again, lifting her arm and waving it in a wide arc. “Yes, it’s them! They see me. They’re driving the ambulance down the sidewalk to reach us. Thank you so much. Thank you!”
She ends the call and leans down to cup my face. “They’re here. You’re going to be okay. You must be okay. If you’re broken because I made you come cat petting with me, I’m going to have a hard time forgiving myself.”
“I’ll risk it all for cat petting any day,” I say with a grin as I roll onto my back. “Especially with you.”