Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
It didn't, however, seem to be a practice Auggie had managed to adopt yet. Her eyes immediately went glassy, her head whipping away from me so I couldn't see.
"I will see you tomorrow, Lor. I'll bring the donuts this time," she added, voice a little thick.
"Honey, wait," I demanded as we went down an abandoned hall toward the elevators. Rushing forward, I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop, making her turn after she stabbed her finger into the down button. "I'm sorry," I told her, thumb catching a stray tear as it moved down her cheek. "But maybe she'll do better tomorrow."
"She has pneumonia," Auggie told me, shaking her head. "She wasn't healthy to begin with. She'll be lucky to make it through the night. I know this is stupid," she added, jerking away to move into the elevator, trying to put as much space between us as possible once we were nestled inside. "I've been doing this for years. I shouldn't be getting all watery after all this time."
"You give a shit, babe," I objected. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. I figure maybe this profession could use more people who care."
"Do you know I spent Christmas here this year?And maybe five people had family come visit. Five. And it's not that they don't have family. They do. They're just assholes. Would you throw your mom in a nursing home, and then never visit her?"
"My mother made me swear on my life that I would never put her in a home. She demands a room in all of our houses when we settle down."
"Good for her," Auggie said with a nod. "I hated my father. Like, he was a royal bastard. He didn't do a damn good thing in this world. But I couldn't have even stuck him in a home and never checked in."
"Eh, your old man did do some good in the world," I told her, watching as she turned to face me, brows furrowing. "He made you." Then, realizing just how fucking sappy that sounded, I rushed on. "I think all the old people you take care of would agree that you're a good part of their lives. And your brother even. As much as a pain in the ass you are a lot of the time," I added as the doors chimed as they opened, ushering us out into the lobby.
"That was almost a compliment," she said, giving me a smirk. "Hold up, let me just go wash my hands," she added, jerking her head toward the bathrooms. "Scary viruses going around and all that," she clarified.
I wasn't much of a germaphobe, but with that reminder, I let myself into the men's room to scrub up like I was a doctor about to go into surgery as well.
"Did they start to work on my car yet?" she asked as we moved out of the AC and into the heat.
"Huck just got to it. Looks like it might not be until tomorrow."
"That car has been a lemon since day one, but it is cheaper to have Huck handle repairs than to take on a car payment right now."
I wondered in what ways her life might change when Huck's new business venture started to take off. It wouldn't be immediate, but in a few months, a year, he and his crew would be getting very financially comfortable. He'd have more than enough to try to help set his sister up more comfortably. If she would accept it.
McCoy was right, though. There was quite a bit of pride to be found in these siblings.
My mom and my sisters had put up a small fight when I started transferring some money into their accounts, but it had been half-hearted.
Auggie didn't do anything—I suspected even rejecting hand-outs—half-heartedly.
"He's happy to help out," I assured her. She likely thought I just meant fixing her car. But I figured I was planting some seeds for the future.
"So, did I hear right last night? Your boss gave my brother the go-ahead?" she asked, following me down the street since the lot for the home had been full when I arrived.
"You did. They're moving forward."
"This is the part where I should be worrying about my brother and his friends, right?" she asked, uncharacteristically solemn.
"Don't you worry about them already when you know they are out on jobs?"
"It's different," Auggie told me, stopping at the side of my bike. "Stealing cars is risky. But mostly because they could get caught. No Joe Schmo is going to come out with a shotgun and take them out."
"You sure about that? This is Florida," I reminded her, making her lips curve up.
"True. But you know what I mean. This new... business venture. It's different. More dangerous."
"It is," I agreed, knowing she wasn't someone who wanted things sugar-coated. "If it helps at all, Reign hasn't lost a man in a long time."