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)
“Charles,” I called as I entered his rooms. “I hope you’re dressed.”
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Charlie whined as I flicked on the overhead light. “Go away.”
“No,” I replied, reaching for the quilt that covered him. I yanked it off the bed.
“What are you doing?” Charlie grunted angrily as I threw the blanket out until it landed flat on the floor.
“Just a sec,” I said as I kneeled down next to it.
Starting at one corner, I checked each scar of embroidery, one by one.
“Baby,” Ambrose said gently from where he stood above me. “It’s four in the morning.”
I ignored him as Charlie sat up on the edge of the bed. “What are you looking for?” he asked blearily.
I’d almost given up when my finger caught on a little hard piece inside the blanket. My throat tightened. I was right.
There was something inside the quilt.
“Here,” I said, keeping my pointer finger next to the red embroidery snaking across the quilt. “It’s right here.”
“What is?” Ambrose asked, kneeling down beside me. He reached out and set his finger next to mine, running it along the edge of the stitching.
“Feel it?” I asked, looking over at him.
“Holy Gods,” he breathed.
“Charlie, get me scissors.”
My brother stared at me blankly.
“Scissors,” I snapped my fingers. “A knife, nail clippers, something.”
Charlie grumbled as he shuffled to the bathroom.
“What do you think it is?” I asked, looking back at the quilt.
“A chip,” Ambrose replied softly.
Charlie walked back in and dropped a pair of nail clippers on top of the quilt. “You’re going to ask Mom to fix it if you put a hole in it,” he said worriedly.
I handed the clippers to Ambrose and watched as he carefully clipped the threads, pulling on them until they unraveled enough that he could slip his fingers inside. He pulled them back out, pinching a small black rectangle no bigger than my thumbnail.
“What is it?” Charlie demanded.
“It’s a microSD,” Ambrose said, holding it up to get a closer look as he sat back on his heels. He looked at me. “How the fuck did you know it was there?”
“I felt it,” I replied, staring. It was so small.
“When?”
“Right before the sedation kicked in.” I shrugged. “I fell asleep before I could tell you.”
“What’s on it?” Charlie asked, worry lacing his tone.
I frowned at my brother. “You know as much as we do,” I reminded him acerbically. “Zeke didn’t exactly label it.”
Ambrose rose and walked to the wall, pressing the intercom on the wall. “Chance, is Danny home?”
It was silent for a few moments.
“How the hell would I know?” Chance griped angrily. “What the fuck?”
“Call him,” Ambrose ordered.
“You call him,” Chance shot back.
“Lucy found a microSD in Zeke’s quilt,” Ambrose said, looking at me like I’d invented the earth.
A few more moments of silence.
“I’ll call him,” Chance mumbled.
Ambrose pushed a different button. “Beau.”
“This better be good,” Beau replied.
“Come to Zeke’s room.”
“Okay.”
We sat in silence until Chance barged in. He was wearing a pair of ratty sweatpants that were cut off at the knees and no shirt.
“My eyes,” I hissed, covering my face.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. The sound of him slapping his belly was unmistakable.
When I opened my eyes again, Ambrose was staring at me in amusement.
“Where’s the card?” Chance asked.
Ambrose handed it over.
“It was in the quilt?”
“He’d stitched it in,” Ambrose confirmed.
“Tricky little fucker,” Chance said, a small smile pulling at his cheeks. “And the idiots brought it right to us.”
“He knew there was a good chance it would be shipped back to us,” Ambrose said, reaching down to help me off the floor. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued, looking at my arms.
“Your thigh.” A little circle of blood had started to seep through the sweats.
“Shit.”
“Danny’s on his way,” Chance said as Beau and Reese walked quietly into the room. “Take her to Alice. We’ll meet you in my rooms.”
“I’m fine,” I argued. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
“I’d like to get dressed,” Charlie announced.
He was sitting there in his boxers, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
I wanted to argue more, but Ambrose was already pulling me across the room.
“It could’ve been worse,” Reese said behind us. “What if you slept naked?”
I heard my brother laugh as the door closed behind us.
Alice was sleeping, her hand holding Sven’s, when we got to the hospital room. Silently, Ambrose led me over to the bed and helped me take off my pants. Beneath them, the bandage was even bloodier.
Without a word, Ambrose gently took the bandage off. Most of the stitches were still intact. It was only one that had snapped and was sticking out at odd angles. I looked away as Ambrose used a pair of tweezers to pull the thread out of my skin. A few minutes later, he’d bandaged it again and was pulling my pants back over my hips.