Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
They were all on their phones. None of them looked up when Frankie and Cromwell entered the room.
Frankie looked over her shoulder at me, widening her eyes, causing me to chuckle as I left.
After stopping in the first responder lounge, I walked outside to the bench that I’d parked next to and finished off the pizza.
Once I was done, I placed another order for a pizza exactly like the one I’d just eaten, paid for it, and had it delivered to the ER.
Hopefully the dick wouldn’t intercept it.
Chapter 7
Hustle juice.
-Coffee cup
Frankie
“What do you want out of your life, Franks?” Luca asked me, looking over with a small smile on his face.
He and I were sitting side by side in the sand.
His feet were far enough forward that they were getting touched by the water that continuously rolled in wave by wave.
Mine were far enough back that my feet were still dry.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said softly, looking at the waves. “What do you mean, what do I want out of life?”
“I mean, are you happy?” he asked.
I frowned. “I’m happy.”
“Are you really, though?” he asked. “Because, it doesn’t seem like you are from where I’m at. It seems like you’re really sad.”
Was I?
“I’m happy when I’m dreaming about you,” I told him. “Right now? I’m exactly where I want to be.”
He smiled, and his feet started to sink underneath the sand.
“I want you to be happy outside of your dreams, too, baby,” he rumbled. “You need to give the new Gabriel a chance.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Was the man speaking in riddles?
“He’s not the same person that he used to be, but he’s still Gabriel,” he said. “You made him fall for you once. You can make him fall for you again.”
I frowned. “Malachi is sweet and all but…”
“Gabriel needs you now. Wake up,” he ordered.
Then his calves sank into the sand.
“Luca…” I said, feeling my heart start to race. “What’s going on?”
“He needs you,” he repeated, now up to his knees.
But the funny thing was, the water wasn’t touching me at all.
Each wave that rolled furiously in took him under more and more, leaving me untouched.
I sat beside him, watching in horror as he slowly sank, farther and farther.
“Gabriel is still there, baby. Don’t let him quit.”
I blinked open my eyes and groaned, rolling over and staring at my alarm clock that was projected onto the ceiling.
Five oh two in the morning.
I frowned.
You’ll get up and run if it’s before five-thirty, I told myself last night before I went to bed.
I had said that.
But, I’d also not considered the fact that I’d sleep like utter shit and dream constantly about Luca.
Groaning, I sat up in bed, blinking my eyes rapidly as I tried to figure out what in the hell had woken me after only two solid hours of sleep.
Then I saw the flashing red and blue lights that were turning my room into a disco.
Forcing myself to get up and walk to the blinds that covered my bedroom window, I flicked them open with two fingers and stared out the window.
After looking left and not seeing anything, I turned my head right and blinked rapidly when I saw three police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck.
I frowned hard.
Then, before I could think better of it, got dressed in my running clothes and headed outside.
I sat on the porch steps and quickly put on my socks and shoes, keeping my eyes on the activity across the street.
I could see the Winslows standing on their porch steps directly across the street from me, also watching what was going on. Mr. Winslow had his arm wrapped around his younger daughter who went to the high school.
I only knew that she went to the high school because I’d see her and about ten other girls out in front of their house practicing cheerleading moves in their Kilgore Bulldogs uniforms.
Then there was the Carpenters that lived next door to me.
They weren’t on their porch. They were down by their mailbox because the fire truck that was parked directly in front of their house obstructed their view.
The Carpenters had two children. One that was about eight or nine, and one that was in high school as well.
Now, the only reason I knew that they had a high-school-aged kid was because the boy was in band, and he had a massive Kilgore Bulldogs Band sign in what I presumed to be his window.
I quickly tied my shoes into double knots, then studied the rest of the neighborhood.
There were quite a few people on their porches, watching the events unfold across the street.
But, from what I could hear of their conversations, none of them knew what was going on.
So, I did what first came to me and dialed a number that I was beginning to both love and hate.