Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I swallow back the tears clogging my throat.
A hand touches my shoulder.
I turn my head, looking up at the one person who makes things so much more bearable.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Red.” I smile.
“You okay?” she asks, sitting down beside me.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Just talking to Mama.”
“Happy birthday, Mary,” Carrie says.
I reach out and take hold of her hand, squeezing it.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” she says to me. “Old Mrs. Parker caught me on my way out of the diner. She was asking how Hope’s doing. Wanted to see recent pictures of her. It took a while.”
I chuckle at the thought.
But I can’t blame Mrs. Parker. Because Hope is awesome.
I think she’s stolen the heart of nearly everyone in this town.
Of course, there are a few who will always keep their distance because of me.
But the majority love her.
It’s hard not to love her. She’s sweet and adorable.
I love her and her mom in a way I never thought possible.
They are both my whole world.
And, because of the sacrifice my mama made for me, I get to be here with them now, being Hope’s daddy and living the amazing, wonderful life that we have together.
“Mada!” Hope cries happily when she spots her mom. She comes waddling over to Carrie, who pulls her into her arms and kisses her head.
“Hey, baby girl. Mama missed you!”
I chuckle at the highlighting of the word mama. Carrie is still pissed that Dada was Hope’s first word. And, of course, I wind Carrie up over the fact that Hope calls her Mada.
Some things never change with Red and me. And I pray to God, they never do.
After coming so close to losing her that day when that sick fuck of her ex shot her … seeing her die right there in my arms … it was the single worst moment in my entire life.
It felt like my life was over.
Watching the paramedics fight to revive her right in front of me …
Even now, just thinking about it almost breaks me.
But my girl is a fighter. And, when they got her heart beating again, putting a tube in her chest, draining the blood flooding her lungs, I got down on my knees and thanked God.
But the nightmare wasn’t over.
Carrie was put on a stretcher and transported to the hospital.
I followed in the car with Hope. Calling Sadie on my way. She met me at the hospital along with Guy.
The police were at the hospital, wanting a statement, but all I could think of was Carrie.
She was taken to the operating room.
She flatlined on the table.
She died twice on that horrific fucking night.
If her ex-husband hadn’t killed himself, I would have murdered him with my bare hands.
Those doctors got her heart started again and got that bullet out, which was lodged in her left lung. It had missed her heart by millimeters.
When she came out of surgery, her doctor told me that they’d put her in an induced coma to help give her time to heal. Her breathing was assisted.
There were fears that she would never wake up. That she wouldn’t be able to breathe alone. That there would be irreparable damage.
It was the longest week of my life. I’d never felt so helpless.
But the strangest thing happened. People from the town started showing up at the hospital, offering support to me. Bringing food. Helping with Hope. Some even just came to sit with Carrie and me while I waited for her to open her beautiful eyes.
It changed how I saw everything.
How I saw people. Especially the people of this town.
After seven long days, Carrie woke up.
I’d never felt such relief.
Then, she started breathing unassisted, and from there on, she made a full and complete recovery.
She’s a goddamn fighter, my girl.
When Carrie got out of the hospital, she and Hope moved in with me. They’re still with me.
My house became our home.
It was hard on Carrie though, having to see her old house and remembering what had happened there every time she left our home.
So, I contacted the owner of the house, who was only happy to sell it to me. The day that house became mine, I had it demolished. I flattened that fucking place to the ground.
I had money just sitting in the bank from my inheritance from my gran. She hadn’t just left me the old house. She’d left me a truckload of money. Gran never was a big spender, so her money from her art had accumulated over the years. I never had anything to spend it on. Spending some on buying that house and bulldozing it to the ground was the best use of it. I knew Gran would have approved.
And, truthfully, I didn’t just do it for Carrie.
I did it for me, too.
That house was the place where Carrie had died. In my fucking arms.