Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I smiled, still not able to believe that we’d both came out slightly worse for the wear but alive after a night that could have ended so differently and so much more deadly.
Preppy sighed and played with the hem of the shirt on my knees. “I don’t really want to talk about this shit right now. I want you to rest, but I gotta ask you, Doc. Did you see who it was?”
I shook my head and looked over at the wall, focusing my attentions on the Cinderella clock over the bathroom door, hoping something would come to me that could help.
“How about a car?” he prompted. “A make or a model?”
I shook my head.
“Color?”
I closed my eyes and searched for the answers to his questions, but I came up blank. “I...I was in the trunk. I popped the emergency latch.”
Preppy grimaced but quickly covered it up with a soft smile. “That’s...that’s good, Doc. Quick thinking. Plus, emergency latches were only put in cars starting in the early 2000’s, so that’s something to start with. Anything else?”
I thought some more. “The car stopped when the person driving realized the trunk was open. They started to come for me. I heard them, but your lights must have scared them off. Next thing I know your truck is skidding to a halt a few inches from me and I don’t remember much after that. I don’t even know how I got back here.”
“You passed out. Shock,” Preppy said. “I carried you back.”
“You’re not hurt?” I said, pointing to a cut on his chest that was still seeping blood.
Preppy shook his head. “The only thing that would have hurt me is losing you.”
“Me too,” I said, feeling the tears welling up again. I felt an itch on the back of my neck and went to scratch it, finding some sort of gauze taped to my skin. “What is this?” I asked, scratching over the wrap.
“Don’t,” Preppy said, gently grabbing my wrist, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. “It’s just a cut. You needed a few stitches is all. You don’t wanna rip them out. Stitches suck a lot more when you’re conscious.” He set my hand down on the bed and laced his fingers with mine, and I felt myself relax, my shoulders fell, and my guard came tumbling down.
Preppy stroked my arm as he talked, trailing his fingers up and down my skin. “Thought I lost you.” He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Again.”
“Nah. Can’t get rid of me that easily,” I said, leaning into his touch. “Who do you think could have done this?” I asked.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. I talked to King and Bear, and the only thing we can come up with is that Bear’s been diving heavily into trying to find out who might have been working with Chop to cover up that I was alive. People in the morgue, coroner's, doctors, nurses. Shit, even the people at the funeral home.”
“So you think it could be someone who thinks Bear’s getting too close to the truth?” I asked.
“Maybe, but it still doesn’t make sense why they’d come for you and not directly for me. The other theory is that it could just be someone who doesn’t like that I’m up and breathing again and wants to get to me through you, although I’m a fairly amazing person so I have no fucking clue who that could be. We’re looking into everyone. Including Kevin.”
“Your brother?” I asked.
“Let’s face it, Doc. He did just kind of come out of nowhere and I still don’t really know what he’s all about. I’m going to spend some more time with him. Find out what his story is,” Preppy said. Preppy’s eyebrows turned inward, creases in his forehead deepened. “Dre look. I’m so fucking sorry...”
“No,” I interrupted him. “You stop that. I could have lost you too. I can’t do that again do you hear me? I can’t.”
Preppy stood and leaned over me until I was forced to lie back onto the mattress, his hands on both sides of the bed. He looked angry when he said, “I’ll never leave you, and you’ll never leave me. Is that understood?”
“It is,” I said.
The air between us grew thick. I reached out and wiped the blood from the scrape on his chest with my finger. The drop was bigger than I’d thought. It ran down into the lines of my palm, painting the flesh of my hand with his blood.
I glanced back up where the blood had now pooled around one of Preppy’s hard nipples. I pressed my thighs together, ignoring the soreness and pain radiating from my legs and focusing instead on the feral way Preppy’s nostrils flared as he glanced at his blood on my hand.