Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Kent nodded and whisked her off the dance floor. He all but carried her out of the bar, and once they reached the parking lot, he picked her up. Palmer clung to him and cried into his shoulder. He had no idea what was wrong or what they were about to face. He prayed that whatever lay ahead would happen in the safety of the hotel and not in the parking lot or in the car.
THIRTY-FOUR
Kent sped back to the hotel. He parked in the closest spot to the lobby, made sure he had the key card in his hand, shut off the car, and exited. He carried Palmer into the hotel and rushed by the desk clerk, hoping he didn’t look suspicious.
As soon as he got Palmer into the room, he laid her on the bed. He had no idea what to expect. The whole “I don’t feel well” could mean anything. Kent highly doubted she could feel a seizure coming, but then he hadn’t been paying attention to the signs. Palmer had been moody earlier and had only changed when Kent threatened to cut their trip short. The only present sign of a potential seizure was how emotional she’d become at the bar. Initially, Kent had chalked that up to her not feeling well and them having to leave; now he was second-guessing himself.
“Here, take this.” He helped Palmer sit up and then handed her the anticonvulsant medication and a bottle of water. “They should help prevent a seizure.”
“Is that why I don’t feel well?” Palmer handed Kent the bottle of water after she’d taken the medication. He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed.
“I don’t know. There isn’t anything scientific that pinpoints when a seizure will occur. I need to be better about making sure you’re eating, but you do get enough sleep. You’re not supposed to have alcohol, but I think it’s stupid to tell you no when . . .” Kent trailed off. He ran his hands through his hair, which he desperately needed to cut. “At least you’re safe here.”
While Palmer got up to use the bathroom and change into some pajamas, Kent hovered. He was on edge and anxious. He couldn’t get the image of her crying out of his mind or get past the thought that something was about to happen. Kent sighed when she opened the bathroom door. He led her back to the bed and helped her get under the covers.
“I’ll be right back.” Kent changed quickly and then crawled in bed next to her. Despite there being another bed, they both preferred to sleep next to each other. He reached for the remote, turned the TV on, and scrolled through the channels until he found a movie for them to watch.
Palmer snuggled into Kent’s side, until he rolled her onto her side and spooned her. He did so because if she was going to have a seizure, she needed to be on her side. Palmer reached to turn the light off, but he told her to keep it on. “It’ll help with the lights flashing from the TV.”
“Oh.”
The crack against his skull woke him before the shaking bed did. He groaned and then realized what was happening. Palmer’s body thrashed wildly. Kent scrambled out of bed and pulled the bottom sheet down until her body was in the middle, giving her a safe space. He timed the seizure on his watch and added thirty seconds for the painful wake-up call he’d experienced. He was pretty sure Palmer had whacked him a good one with her head.
Three minutes—that was how long it took for her body to stop convulsing. He was a wreck and in tears by the time she was alert. Kent knelt at the bedside and held her hand while he sobbed. He couldn’t stop them from happening, and watching her go through them ripped his heart to shreds. She stroked his hair and apologized.
“It’s not your fault,” he told her.
“I could’ve had the surgery.”
“We wouldn’t be here if you had,” he reminded her. Kent helped Palmer sit up. He didn’t bother wiping his tears as he handed her the bottle of water from earlier. “Drink this.”
She did as she was told. After a couple of sips, she put the bottle down. “How long?”
“Three minutes.”
“What happened to your head?”
Kent touched the bump forming on his forehead. He looked at her pointedly, and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, God, I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’d rather it be my head than the wall or the corner of the nightstand. From now on, I’m going to put a pillow there, or you’re sleeping on the other side of me.” If they did that, they wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in each other’s arms while watching TV. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom.” Kent helped Palmer stand and then held her arm while she gingerly walked to the bathroom. He gave her privacy and went back to the bed and fixed the sheets. He was surprised she hadn’t had an accident, considering the time of night.