Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“Okay. Try to stay calm. Let’s just keep talking until the police arrive.”
I nodded, but couldn’t focus on anything else the woman said. What if I killed him? My heart ricocheted against my ribcage as if it were trying to escape. I peered over at the man. He was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, but his face was turned away from me, and I couldn’t get a good look from where I stood huddled in the corner.
Though something struck me as odd. An intruder didn’t usually dress that well, did he? Shouldn’t he have a stocking over his face and filthy clothes from his years of doing drugs and living on the streets?
I pushed up on my tippy toes to get a better look. His crisp, white shirt had a little horse embroidered on it. My intruder wore a hundred-dollar, Ralph Lauren dress shirt?
A bad feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. I needed to see this man’s face. “Are you still there?” I asked into the phone.
“I’m here. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m going to take a few steps toward him. He’s still out, and I want to see his face.”
“Okay. Stay on the line, and see if it’s safe to maneuver around him and get outside.”
I nodded. Realizing I was still naked, I tugged the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around me. Then I took one hesitant step and waited to see if the man moved. He didn’t. So I took another step, and then another until I was close enough to lean to one side and get a look at the intruder’s turned-away face.
I gasped.
“Presley? Are you still there?” the 9-1-1 operator asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh my God!”
“What’s going on, Presley?”
“I think it’s Levi!”
“You know the intruder?”
“Yes. He’s Tanner’s brother.”
“And who’s Tanner, Presley?”
“He’s my ex-fiancé.”
“What’s Tanner’s last name?”
“Miller.”
“Miller?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. So the man on the floor is Levi Miller, then?”
“Yes.”
“The same name as the football player?”
I shook my head. “No, not the same name as the football player—the actual player. I think I just killed the Super Bowl MVP quarterback.”
***
“I’m fine,” Levi growled at the paramedic from the other room.
The police had separated us, asking me to take a seat in the kitchen and keeping him in the adjoining living room. I peered around the police officer sitting across from me to see what was going on.
“Sir, you lost consciousness. There’s a good chance you have a concussion. Plus, you need a few stitches.”
“I’ll walk over to Doc Matthews’ house down the block. He’ll stitch me up and check me out.”
The paramedic frowned. “That’s not a good idea. We need to take you to Memorial.” She fussed, trying to wipe his head with gauze.
The police officer sitting across from me finished writing notes in his pad and shut it. “So you didn’t know it was your ex-fiancé’s brother when you attacked him? You didn’t recognize a famous football player you’ve known all your life?”
“I didn’t attack him. I told you. I was dancing, and he walked in on me. He has a full beard now, and I’d never seen him with one before. I got scared and picked up the first thing I could grab and threw it at him. It was an accident. I thought he was a robber or something.”
“And you were dancing…naked?”
“Yes.”
He flipped open his notepad and started to write again.
“Can you…leave that part out of your report? It’s so embarrassing.”
The officer glanced up at me and then continued to write. “They’re just the facts of the case, ma’am.”
Levi again raised his voice from the other room, causing even the officer sitting across from me to turn in his chair. He towered over the short female paramedic. “Give me whatever you want me to sign. I’m not getting into an ambulance for a little cut on the head.”
One of the two paramedics who had been attending to Levi walked into the kitchen and spoke to the officer. “The victim’s vitals are stable, and he’s refusing treatment, so we’re going to have him sign our Refusal of Necessary Medical Care form and be on our way.”
The officer shut his notebook and looked at me. “Excuse me for a minute.”
While the paramedics packed up their transporter bed and all of their equipment, the officer spoke to Levi. He lowered his voice, but I could still strain to hear.
“Are you sure you don’t want to press charges, Mr. Miller?”
Levi looked over at me. His glare was icy, but he shook his head no.
“Alright, then. We’ll have to do a full report. But we’ll put it down as a domestic accident.”
Fifteen minutes later, the last of the responders walked out the front door. The paramedics and police had arrived just as Levi came to, and they’d immediately sprung into action to treat him and then separated us. I hadn’t had a chance to apologize.