Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
I pause outside the door, taking a deep breath, and then step inside.
The old man looks small and frail in the hospital bed, as if he's aged fifteen years since yesterday. The left side of his wrinkled face droops slightly. His left hand trembles where it rests on the crisp white sheet.
But his gaze whips to mine, as sharp and assessing as ever.
"Don't make me get out of this fucking bed, kid," he rasps, his voice like crushed gravel. "It wasn't your fault, you hear me?"
My throat constricts painfully. I swallow hard, blinking back the hot sting in my eyes as I stare at him.
"What happened to your parents wasn't your fault either," he continues. "I never once blamed you. But all that goddamn guilt you're carrying around…you're going to end up old and alone just like me if you can't learn to let it go."
"I'm fucking trying," I manage to choke out.
"Try harder," he barks. "I didn't raise a coward. And if you can't give that girl your whole heart, then you don't deserve her."
"Jesus Christ." I scrub a hand over my face, shaken by how perfectly he has my own goddamn fears pegged. I've railed against him for years, swearing he didn't know a goddamn thing about me. It's fucking eerie to hear him tell me exactly how wrong I've been about that, like he knows me better than I know myself. "You just had a stroke. Aren't you supposed to be rainbows and kittens, grateful to be alive?"
"Hell no. Lena gets rainbows and kittens," he retorts. "You get a boot up your ass until you decide to dislodge your head."
A surprised laugh bursts from my lips. "Has anyone ever told you that you're an asshole?"
"You mean besides you? Your grandmother did, every damn day for twenty-five years." He falls quiet for a moment. "Best twenty-five years of my life." Emotion parades across his face, the tremor in his hand intensifying momentarily before he blinks. His gaze shifts across my face. "I want the same things for you and your cousin."
Emotion clogs my throat. I want that too, so fucking badly. All I think about anymore is a lifetime with Tempest, loving her for the rest of my life, worshipping her, being responsible for her every need, every whim.
"I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it up," I admit. "I don't know how to love her more than I already do."
I already love her to the depths of my soul. Is there something more than that? Some deeper level? If so, I might not survive finding it because she already consumes me every fucking minute of the day.
"Then you'd better learn," the old man says, his voice sharp. "Because I know that girl, and she won't settle for the broken pieces of your heart or half of it. She wants all of it. If you want to keep her, you better fight like hell, kid."
"Who says I'm not?" I ask, arching a brow at him. He's so sure I'm not fighting, but he doesn't have a clue. It's mildly infuriating that he knows me so well and doesn't know me at all at the same damn time.
"Bah, don't give me that shit," he growls. "We wouldn't be having this conversation if you were fighting. You'd know that you were putting your whole soul into it."
"Can we not fight today?" I ask, eyes narrowing on him. "You just had a stroke."
"Then it's a good day for you to stop being a pain in my ass, isn't it?" the old man retorts.
"Jesus Christ." I shake my head, holding up my hands. "You know what? I'm going to wait in the hall for Lena so you can rest."
"Good. While you're out there, hunt down that fucking doctor and tell him to let me out of here," the old man grumbles.
I sigh heavily, shaking my head again. No wonder Lena ran off to the mountains. If I'm half as stubborn as our grandfather, my baby cousin has been miserable as hell living with the two of us lately.
Well, not anymore. One way or another, that's changing.
The drive home from the hospital is a blur, my mind spinning. I'm fucking exhausted, but the old man is going to survive. And, for once, things don't feel so goddamn bitter between us.
My phone rings, jarring me from my thoughts. I glance at the screen in the dashboard, my brow lifting when I see Jake's name scrolling across the top. I just talked to him an hour ago.
"What's up?" I ask, hitting the button on the steering wheel to answer the call as I coast to a stop at a light.
"Checking in on the old man," he says. "How's he doing?"
I snort. "He's a stubborn pain in the ass, as usual."
It's nothing but the truth. He was even worse after Lena arrived, especially once he found out she's been holed up in the mountains with a fucking mountain man. I wasn't thrilled about that either. But I know Lena. She's as stubborn as the rest of us. If she thinks she's in love with the man, nothing I say is going to sway her. Frankly, I'm not even going to try.