Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Even though I know I did the right thing, I think I kind of surprised myself. I never believed I could purposely hurt someone. When I knew why that woman was there today I knew I had to protect not just everyone in the class, but also Owen. Not to mention I’ve seen all that is being done with the supplies I’ve been getting from my students. Each week they’re giving more and more on top of the money they pay for the class. I know the words of peace I speak in class are reaching them, and I couldn’t allow this spy to come in and destroy all of that. I would do anything to keep that from happening, and I did.
A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts and I turn around to see another nurse, Lisa, smiling at me. She slides up next to me in front of the television.
“Happy Friday,” she chirps.
I reach for the volume, turning it up as the morning news begins. Really, it’s the only channel anyone with a TV ever gets these days.
“Back at you,” I say, trying to be polite and act like everything is normal.
“Shh, that hotty Brad Chalmers is being interviewed again.”
I smile and zip it for the sake of my friend’s man crush. But I know for a fact that Brad is just another pawn of the Regime being put on TV to promote the government’s propaganda.
The women in yoga have loose lips. They all have the hots for the chief of staff and say his real job is to take out Loyalists who’ve been compromised by the Insurgence. His lesser known occupation as a thug make all those women practically cream themselves when they gossip about him.
She stares at the television as he drones on to the camera about some nonsense or another. He’s a tall, muscular guy with a nose that looks like it’s been broken a few times. A nurse can always tell.
He’s not bad looking, but nothing compared to my Owen. My gaze falls away from the TV as I think about the tiny nugget that’s growing inside of me. As much as I’m worried about the future, I’m beyond thrilled. Whatever happens, Owen and I will find a way to be together. We have to. I can't bear the thought of not being with him. For our child to grow up without the two of us together would be a nightmare, and I won’t dwell on it. My Owen can do anything, and he will to protect us.
The next moment, Lisa is snapping me out of my daydreams.
“Holy shit! Did you see that?”
“What?” I ask, looking back to the TV.
“Is he dead? Oh my god, please don’t be dead, Hot Brad can’t die!” she screams.
“What happened?”
“She punched him. That chick came out of nowhere! She punched him and he went down like a rock. He hit his head and now she’s gone. I think he might be dead right there on the street on live TV! Oh my god, I cannot believe you missed that!”
I squint at the TV. “Who punched him?”
“I don’t know who she was, but they’re calling her Nazi-Puncher now. And she’s a badass.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t talk like that in a government hospital! Besides, I thought you were in love with him.”
“I said he’s hot. I didn’t say he didn’t deserve to be punched.” She smiles and gives me a little shrug.
I turn my attention back to the television once again. Brad Chalmers is back on his feet, but the camera is still on him and reporters are clamoring for a comment. I’m surprised to see that the government didn’t use a delay on the feed to keep everyone from seeing one of their own get embarrassed. I watch as Chalmers dabs at his nose. Looks like the protester succeeded in breaking it once again.
That kind of violence, is this what Owen stands for? Even though I shouldn’t condone this kind of behavior, there’s something visceral inside me that liked it. There’s no long-term harm done to the man, probably. The chaos of that moment was satisfying to watch in a world that’s so structured and ordered. At least on this side of the city.
I don’t have long to think on it, because there’s an interruption as a group of EMTs bust through the doors with a woman on a gurney. Lisa and I run to help. The lead emergency worker holds an oxygen mask over the blonde woman’s mouth and nose as he speaks.
A panic falls over me.
“Law enforcement, found unconscious in her office just minutes ago,” he says.
I’m certain as I look at the blonde hair and tan face that this is the woman I suspected of being a mole in my yoga class this morning. The one I adjusted to give her a headache and make her muscles sore. Not to fall unconscious!