Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
So, I thought of her incessantly. Sadly, I had no chance to dream about her because sleep was impossible with a crushed elbow and what felt like my brains leaking out of the back of my head.
When Rachel makes it to the side of my bed—the side with the busted elbow—I can see the dark circles under her eyes and the grim set to her lips. I want to reach my hand out to touch her.
To comfort her.
But I can’t.
Her eyes roam all over my face. I have no clue what it looks like, but I try to put on a cheerful look despite how crappy I feel. None of that matters now that I’m back home.
“You scared a lot of people back home,” she says quietly, her hands gripping the bed rail so hard her knuckles are white.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my eyes drifting to her belly.
“Yeah,” she says in a raspy, dull voice. “Me and the baby are fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” I say flatly. I sort of imagined she’d be overjoyed to see me alive and well.
“I thought you had died.” I didn’t think it was possible, but her voice is flatter than mine.
“But I didn’t,” I reply in a singsong voice, trying to make her smile.
It doesn’t work. Her expression darkens, and her blue eyes turn almost gray with pain.
“Hey,” I say softly, my busted arm involuntarily trying to move to her, but it’s held in place. I sigh with frustration, and use my voice only. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“I can see that,” she murmurs. She even attempts a half-hearted smile, but it doesn’t obliterate the gray in her eyes.
“I heard my boy was awake.” It’s my mom’s voice coming through the door. Rachel turns and looks over her shoulder.
My mom walks in followed by my dad, who is carrying a cardboard tray with three large Styrofoam cups with lids.
Rachel backs away from the bed so my mom can come in. She smiles down at me the way I wanted Rachel to, eyes brimming with happy tears. Her hand comes to my face. “You had me so scared, Bodie Allen Wright.”
“Uh-oh,” I say jokingly. “Used my middle name and everything. I must be in trouble.”
My eyes cut to Rachel. My dad hands her a cup—tea, I imagine—setting the tray with the other two still entrenched on a rolling bedside table. He steps up beside my mom, completely blocking my view of Rachel.
Dropping her hand from my face, my mom holds onto the rail with both hands and leans over me. Her eyes shimmer with love and relief. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m so damn happy you’re going to be coming to Nebraska after the baby is born. Then I can stop worrying about you getting killed.”
I chuckle but that hurts my head, so I cut it off sharply. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mom, but I’m going to be staying. Rachel wants to keep the baby… raise it with me. So I’m staying here, and we’ll both continue at Jameson. Didn’t she tell you?”
My parents have been here long enough—given they were all sitting in my room waiting for me to wake up—that I assumed the subject would come up. I didn’t get a chance to tell them before I left last week, figuring I’d call them with the news when I got back.
I lean slightly to the left to try to see around my mom to Rachel, intent on perhaps giving her a reproachful look for not telling my mom. She probably felt it wasn’t her place, though, so I decide just a smile will be good enough.
Except I don’t see Rachel.
I try to lean further, and my mom gets the picture. She steps back, and she and my father both turn to Rachel.
Except… Rachel is just gone.
Silently ghosting out without a word.
“She probably stepped out to give us some privacy,” my mom says in a cheery voice. “Although why she would do that is beyond me. We’re almost family, you know.”
My mother’s eyes are on me expectantly, wanting me to be happy just to be alive the way she is. I’m feeling all kinds of dark inside, though, because I know damn well Rachel didn’t step out just to give us privacy.
She ran away from me.
“Bodie?” my mom says gently, calling my attention to her rather than the empty doorway my eyes had drifted to.
I pull a smile on my face, turning to look at my mom. “Yeah… I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Now, tell me the details that Kynan and Jerico left out. I don’t even know what day it is.”
My mom starts to chatter. She tells me we had been rescued day before last and somehow ferreted out to a U.S. Naval ship on maneuvers close by. I vaguely remember this, but I also remember them giving me painkillers, so I was floating high. After talking to the Navy doctors on the ship who felt we were well stabilized, Kynan made a judgment call to have us flown via a C17 medical flight to March Air Force Reserve Base in California. From there, we took a private medical flight home to Vegas, making it back in thirty-two hours from the time of our rescue. Surgeons were on standby and waiting when we arrived.