Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Usually he could kind of hang back and supervise, but not with this job. They needed everyone on their six-man team to be working. That was why he was on the roof installing a skylight. Shea was sweating bullets; it was only April, and wasn’t super hot out, but the sun was high and there was not a cloud in the sky, so he was roasting. He had stripped off his shirt a while ago to try to cool off some, but it wasn’t really helping.
Shea straightened up to stretch his back out because it was bothering him from being hunched over when, all of a sudden, he somehow lost his footing on the slanted roof and started tumbling. He could not find anything to stop himself and his last thought before he went off the edge of the roof was that he hoped he didn’t land on his head. He had no desire to be a vegetable.
The sensation of falling made Shea want to puke. He was falling somewhat sideways, and he didn’t have enough time to correct it because it was only a one-story drop, and the ground came up too fast. Shea hit the grass, landing partially on his right side. He heard and felt his collarbone snap as all of the air knocked out of his lungs. His head smacked the ground hard, leaving him dizzy and confused. He could hear shouting but he didn’t know where it was coming from or what was being said.
“Shea! Yo, Dempsey, are you hurt?” came Connor’s voice from somewhere above him. Connor was one of the guys working under him.
Shea tried to blink past the fog and focus on the face that was hovering over his, but he just couldn’t. The pain in his shoulder was slowly getting worse and he was really freaking tired.
Shea gasped and cried out in pain when he felt his body being moved. His eyes flew open and glanced around to see that he was now strapped down on a stretcher with a neck brace, while being put into the back of an ambulance. What the fuck happened? He looked around to see his guys all standing around watching, looking concerned. A paramedic hopped into the back of the ambulance and shut the door. He was a young guy with shaggy brown hair. He gave Shea a reassuring smile as he sat down on the bench next to him.
“Hey, buddy, how we doing?” Shaggy cut asked.
“Pain,” was all Shea could get out, because for real, the pain was unbearable.
“I know man, I’m gonna get you something to ease the pain. My name is Will, by the way.”
“Shea.”
“Shea, yeah, I know, your friends told me.”
Will moved about the back of the ambulance as it started on its merry way, lights and sirens blaring. Shea was ready to pass the fuck out or throw up from the pain. He couldn’t even get out anything other than weird whimpering noises to tell Will to move his ass and get him some drugs. Will finally got his arm prepped and slid the needle home, injecting something into Shea’s arm that sent him flying high.
Shea’s head lolled to the side, luckily in Will’s direction, because he was not going to be able to move it from where it landed. “I love you,” he slurred.
Will chuckled and patted Shea’s thigh. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Shea sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He could hear Will moving about, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything at the moment. A blanket draped over him covering him up to his chin, which was good because the pain medication and the saline were making him cold. Once they arrived at the emergency room, Will handed him over to the doctor and nurses with a report on his condition. Shea tried to answer their questions as best as he could, but between the medication and the possible concussion, who knows what the hell came out of his mouth.
Christian was in the middle of washing paintbrushes when his cell phone rang. He groaned and quickly rinsed his hands and dried them with a paper towel. He was hoping it was Shea because he hadn’t spoken to him since last night and he missed him. He pulled his cell phone out of the pocket and looked at the number; a bolt of disappointment hit him, as he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” he answered, deciding to see who it was.
“Hi, is this Christian Beck?” the friendly female voice said on the other end.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Beck, my name is Darlene, and I’m a nurse at Abington Hospital. I’m calling you because a Mr. Shea Dempsey has been brought to the emergency room and according to him, you are his emergency contact,” Darlene said.
Christian’s heart leapt up into his throat. “Yes, I am. Is he okay?”