Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“It hurts,” I whisper.
“I bet it does,” she comforts. “You probably have a couple of broken ribs.” That’s the last thing I hear before I shut my eyes and take a little nap.
I wake only when my eyelid is lifted, and light is flashed into my eyeball, going from one to the other. I groan and want to push the hand away from my face, but I literally can’t lift my hand. “Stop.” That’s the only thing I say. “My friends?” I ask, looking at them and then wincing at the pain in my side.
“We need to get an MRI and an X-ray,” the doctor orders as he presses my side, and I have no choice but to cry out in pain. “We’ll get you all better,” he assures me, turning and rushing out of the room.
“Where is she?” Brock shouts from somewhere. “Where the fuck is Everleigh?”
I’m about to ask something when my head falls forward, the sounds of rushing all around me. “We have a code…” That is the last thing I hear before I feel like I’m sinking into the blackness.
I feel someone touch my hand as my eyes try to open, but they can’t. The sound of beeping fills the room. “She has five broken ribs. One of them punctured her lung, so we had to go in and stop the bleeding.” I hear hissing. “She has a severe concussion, a broken leg, and her shoulder was dislocated.” That doesn’t sound good. It’s the only thing I can think of as I try to open my eyes. I take a deep inhale, which makes me moan.
“It’s okay, princess,” my dad says as my hand is squeezed. “Rest. You’ll be okay.” I feel his lips on my forehead.
I want to tell him I don’t want to rest. I want to tell him that I’m up, and I’m fine. I want to ask him where I am. I just want to open my eyes, but I’m pulled back into the darkness instead.
Chapter Three
Charlie
“Sir,” the paramedic says, “you have to come with us.” He is crouched down beside me. “You can’t stay here; we have to get you to the hospital.” My back is against a tree from when they pulled me out of the wreckage. The pickup is flipped over, and the front of the truck looks like it’s missing, probably from hitting a tree and being spun around. The bottom of the vehicle is facing up, with a tree branch lying on it. The front right tire lies five feet from the truck, not too far from another pickup involved in the accident. The front of the hood rests on the grass. You can’t even see inside.
“I’m not leaving without her,” I tell them through clenched teeth. “I don’t care if I’m here for the rest of the fucking night. I’m not leaving.” My whole body feels like it’s about to snap in half. I’m not even thinking about the pain shooting through me or the fact that something stabbed my side. The only thing I’m thinking about is finding Jennifer.
“Sir,” he starts again, and if my leg wasn’t busted, I would get up and punch him right in the fucking throat.
“I need a cell phone,” I tell him, “like now.” I put out my hand to him, expecting him to place his phone in my hand so I can call my father.
“Sir,” he tries again. This time, I move my face toward him, going almost face-to-face with him.
“Here.” The cop who has been walking around comes over and hands me his cell phone. “You get one call, then I need some questions answered.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I respond, as I look over and see they are taking Brock out of the truck. “Is he okay?”
“So far,” the cop says as I put the phone to my ear and listen to it ring twice before my father answers it with a groggy voice.
“’Lo,” he answers.
“Dad,” I start, my voice in a whisper, “there was an accident.” All the fear I have is now coming back in full force when I have to say the words out loud.
“What?” he snaps, and I hear him moving around on his side. “Talk to me.”
“I need you to come,” I tell him. “I don’t know where Jennifer is.” The tears fall down my cheeks, and all the pain I’ve felt in my body is now straight in the middle of my chest. Like someone has shoved a knife in the middle of my chest and is twisting it left and right, ready to crack it open. “They don’t know where she is, Dad.” I try to take a breath, but the pain is too much to bear. “Dad, she was in the truck with us, but now she’s not there.”
“I’m coming,” he says. “I’m calling your grandfather, and we’re coming.” I hear a door slam in the background.