Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Clenching my jaw, I tipped my head down until my lips rested against Lucy’s hair. It had been too close. If they’d made it fully into the house, we would’ve lost them all.
Beau and I wouldn’t have been far behind them.
Chapter 13
Lucy
The room around me was so dark that I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like I was burning alive, but when I tried to move, pain exploded in my leg.
I gasped, reaching for it, when my hands were caught in a strong grip.
“Don’t touch it,” Ambrose ordered gently. He let go of my hands and moved away from me. A second later, light filled the room.
We were in Ambrose’s bed, and he looked like shit. Still, seeing his face so close to mine was like coming up for air.
“You’re awake.” He smiled.
“What…”
I wasn’t sure what to ask first. Where was Charlie? What was wrong with my leg? Why the hell were my arms wrapped with gauze? What had happened?
The last question answered itself when the gunfight downstairs came back in little flashes.
“Your mom?” I asked, holding my breath.
“She’s fine,” Ambrose said, leaning closer. “Currently pissed that Alice has her on a liquid diet for a few more days.”
“She was shot,” I argued. “It was really bad.”
“Immortal, baby,” Ambrose said slowly. “Remember?”
Oh, yeah. That made sense.
“Everyone is fine,” Ambrose continued.
“Good,” I replied, lowering myself back down to the pillow. “That’s good.”
I was having a hard time processing the memory of what happened.
They’d just kept coming.
“Hey,” Ambrose called, reaching out to run his thumb along my jaw. His face appeared above mine. “How are you feeling?”
“Probably better than you look,” I replied.
He’d gone from a five o’clock shadow to a full beard, but it didn’t mask his newly sunken cheeks or the hollowness in his eyes. His hair was a mess, and it looked like he’d thrown on the clothes he’d found. The sweatpants he had on were lime green.
“It’s been a long thirty-seven hours,” he said ruefully.
“I’ve been asleep an entire day?”
“And then some,” he replied. “You needed it. Alice says sleep is the great healer.”
“I thought that was God.”
He just shrugged.
“What’s wrong with my leg?”
“You were shot in the thigh.”
“I think I would’ve remembered that,” I argued. When the hell had I been shot? I’d been on my feet the whole time.
“Alice said you probably didn’t notice because of the adrenaline.”
I let out a huff of breath.
“You have a graze on your ankle too.”
I was pretty sure I knew when that one happened. It was when they’d shot out the windows.
I stared at the ceiling. My entire body felt heavy and weak.
“You want to get up?”
The moment he said it, I realized I really did need to get up. My bladder felt like it was going to burst. I nodded, and he moved around to help me sit on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong with my arms?” I asked, looking down at the bandages. Someone had put me in a T-shirt I didn’t recognize, and there was so much gauze that it looked like I was wearing a long sleeve shirt under it.
“You had some cuts from the window glass.” Putting his hands on my hips, he braced me as I stood.
My leg didn’t feel as bad as it had when I’d first moved it. I was in nothing but a pair of panties, and there was a wide bandage taped near the inside of my thigh and another on the outside of the opposite ankle. Instead of the sharp pain I expected, it felt more like a dull throbbing as I hobbled into the bathroom.
Ambrose hovered in the doorway.
“I’ve got it from here,” I told him.
“Are you sure?”
I glanced at the toilet three feet away. “I think I can make it.”
Reaching up, he rubbed his hand over his jaw and then smiled ruefully. “I’m having a hard time letting you out of my sight.”
“You’re not watching me pee.”
“I’ll turn my back.”
“You’ll shut the door,” I retorted. I gestured at it, making something on my arm twinge. I barely held back a grimace. “I’ll be right out.”
He sighed and closed it between us. Turning, I headed over to do my business.
“Stop listening at the door,” I called out.
“I’m not,” he called back.
“Bullshit!”
“I have good hearing, remember?”
I felt my cheeks heat as I tried to ignore his presence. When I was done, I shuffled over to the sink and jolted at the sight of myself in the mirror. Someone had brushed my hair and pulled it neatly into a low ponytail, but my fringe was wild on my forehead, and my cheek had a large yellowing bruise. Looking down, I turned my arms back and forth. The bandages were clean, like they’d just been changed.
“Lucy?” Ambrose called.