Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Okay…” I’m not stupid enough to ask if I can go see her. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. What truce we had out there can’t be sustained here, can it? “When can I get out of here?”
“Tonight, or tomorrow morning. Dr. Lauren wants to keep you for observation to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected. Some parts were pretty deep. It took over fifty stitches to fix you up.”
“At least I’ll have a badass scar,” I try to joke, but my father is not in a joking mood.
“I’m going to go find your mom and sister. Ren is waiting outside. I’ll send him in to see you.”
“All right.” I nod, even though I don’t want to see him right now.
My father leaves. Before the door closes completely after him, Ren steps into the room.
“Hey,” he greets, his tone guarded, which matches his hesitant steps toward me.
“Did you steal my keycard and give it to Matteo?” I ask, getting straight to the point.
Ren sighs deeply. His shoulders slouch slightly as he gives me a curt nod. “If I had known you would go after her like this—”
“You stole from me,” I growl, deflecting my real anger.
“I’m trying to be your friend and protect you. There are things you don’t know.”
“And there are things you don’t know. For example, Matteo hurting Adela.” Shock washes over Ren’s face, his mouth opens, but no words come out, so I continue, “Never go behind my back like this again. I mean it. If you value our friendship at all, you will never fucking pull shit like this again.”
“I swear, I won’t. I tried to protect you. You have to believe me. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Well, you won’t do it by lying to me and taking my shit. Did you have something to do with the helicopter going down?”
“I—”
The door opening cuts him off and my family walks back in. My mom is carrying a plate of food, and my stomach growls at the sight. Scarlet takes a seat right beside my bed, and Ren steps away until he is standing in the room's corner.
Scarlet looks up at him with a wide smile. Instead of returning it, Ren looks away before heading to the door.
“I’ll be back to check on you later,” he says as he leaves like he is suddenly in a hurry.
What the fuck was that about?
11
ASPEN
The next morning, I wake wondering if the last few days were a dream, then I look down at my leg that’s encased in a cast, and reality smacks me in the face.
Turns out, I really was in a helicopter crash. Quinton rescued me, and his father threatened to have me killed. At least my leg is feeling better, probably thanks to the pain meds the doctor gives me.
I don’t understand my brain or why I even care to know how Quinton is doing, especially after what his father said to me yesterday, warning me off or else, but I do.
No matter what, he saved me. He went out into the wilderness and rescued me when no one else would, and that has to count for something, right? He said it was just because he owed me, but I don’t know if I believe him.
The nurse brings me breakfast, and I scarf it down like it’s my last meal, which it might very well be if Xander has his way. I can’t seem to forget the darkness in his eyes, the threat he made hanging in the air between us. I don’t want to think about what else he could do to make my life hell, but the evidence of him being a cruel bastard is already out there. If he could kill the mother of his child, he could do anything.
After breakfast, my eyes feel heavy, and I let myself fall into that space between wakefulness and sleeping. When the door to the room creaks open, my eyes pop open, and I force myself to look calm when I see the nurse standing in the room and not Xander. The man has found a way to frighten me, even without being present.
“Good morning, Aspen. How are you feeling?” The woman’s voice echoes through the room, and I stop myself from cringing at the sound. I recognize her being the nurse who took me to get x-rays.
I clear my throat a little. “I’m good, thanks for asking.”
She smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. “That’s wonderful. We’re going to release you in just a little bit. With the cast on your leg, it should heal up well. We will provide you with crutches. It’s going to be a pain to get around, but I’m sure your teachers will be accommodating.”
I want to laugh at the idea, but I simply nod and save myself the burden of explaining how the teachers and students are least accommodating to a person like me. Knowing I’m going to be released soon, my mind switches gears. It’s stupid to care about someone that doesn’t care about you or someone that refuses to admit they care, but Quinton saved my life, and I need to know he is okay.