Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The words ring hollow in my ears, playing over and over like a broken record.
Self-inflicted. Self-inflicted.
“No.” The denial rips from my throat before I can stop it. “No!”
“Easy, Raven,” Vinnie says. “We need more information.”
“Prognosis looks pretty good,” the man with the headset continues. “He just grazed his skull. Missed major arteries. He’s unconscious but stable.”
Unconscious but stable—those words don’t offer the comfort they’re meant to. Instead, they bring a new wave of fear that crashes over me, threatening to pull me under its icy depths.
My father. The most grounded, rational man I know tried to kill himself. And if he wasn’t successful this first time, who knows if he’ll try to do it again?
Why would he do a thing like this?
He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. There must be another explanation.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” Vinnie says. “It seems you weren’t in any danger after all.”
I pull back and punch Vinnie in the upper arm. “How can you say that? I’m in danger of losing my father.”
“He’s stable,” the man repeats.
“Stable. My father’s a great shot.”
“Not everyone is a great shot when they’re aiming the weapon at their own head,” the man replies.
Vinnie shoots the guy a glare. “Can you work on your bedside manner a little bit? Christ.”
He then leads me out of the communication room.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought this was related to the pendant, to the messages you’ve been receiving. I just assumed someone shot him.”
“Someone did!” I scream. “My father would never try to harm himself. There was so much blood, Vinnie. So much blood.”
“I know, Raven, I know.” Vinnie leads me to a quiet corner. His grip on my arm is firm, but not unkind. He knows I need the support right now, both physically and emotionally.
We find a vacant room with an untouched sofa and an old coffee table scattered with outdated magazines. He guides me to sit on the soft leather couch, whispering comforting words that I barely hear over the sound of my own thunderous heartbeat.
“I don’t believe it.” I shake my head. “He was a rock, Vinnie. Always there for me. When I was sick, he fought for me when I was too weak to fight for myself.”
Vinnie kneels in front of me, his hands holding mine. “I know.”
But in his eyes, I see the uncertainty that matches my own.
I grab his face, pull him to me. “Kiss me, Vinnie. Please. Kiss me.”
Without a word, he complies. His kiss is gentle, a soft press against my trembling lips. It’s not a passionate kiss born out of desire, but one of comfort and assurance. He pulls back too quickly, his gaze locked onto mine.
“Raven,” he says softly, “We will figure this out.”
He’s holding onto hope for both of us. But the world feels like it has crumbled around me. A part of me wants to believe him, but the stronger part—the part that saw the life ebbing out of my father—refuses to.
“Can I go see him? Can I go to him?” My voice sounds small and distant even to my own ears.
Vinnie hesitates for a moment. “I need to make sure it’s safe.”
“You just said it has nothing to do with—”
He touches his fingers to my lips. “I said no one else shot him, Raven. But if he felt desperate enough to try to end his own life, something big is going on. Something he doesn’t want your mother, or you, to know about.”
I rub at the sides of my head. I can’t think of this right now.
“Take me away from this, Vinnie. I need you.”
He kisses me again. This time hard, raw.
A moment later, he’s on top of me, grinding his erection into me. “God, Raven,” he grits out. “The thought of losing you. I can’t… I just can’t.”
He kisses me again, one hand cupping my breast, the other sliding beneath my waistband.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
This must be what he felt like when his mother was in the hospital, before she died. When we fucked hard in the hospital cleaning closet.
I have no idea where we are. Who can hear us. But I don’t care.
“Yes,” I say to him. “Yes, please. Love me, Vinnie. Love me.”
He pulls me close, his mouth descending on mine again, hungrily, anxiously. His hands are all over me, slipping under my clothes, tracing the contours of my body. I’m desperate to consume him and be consumed by him in return.
The cool air hits my skin as he pulls my shirt over my head. He kisses my neck as I gasp and dig my nails into his back through the fabric of his shirt. The familiar feel of him drives away the pain, if only for a moment.
His hands are on me again, sliding over the expanse of my bare skin. Fingers gently brushing against curves and valleys. A soft moan escapes my lips as he reaches under my bra, thumbing my nipple until it hardens.