Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Luca and Achilles reemerged. Achilles looked suspiciously tranquil. I hoped he only fucked his employees, not killed them.
“Shall we?” Luca jerked his head toward the exit.
We slipped out of the booth, pushing through sweaty, perfumed, half-naked bodies grinding on the dance floor.
“Do you need a ride home?” Row turned to shout into my ear. He knew I asked Iven to stay outside the hospice in case Gia needed a ride.
I shook my head. “Brought my Ferrari.”
“You know, you can say thank you when someone offers to do you a favor.”
I pushed the heavy doors open. “Me having to spend more time with your ass negates the favor part.”
The five of us tore through the early spring air before my ears rang with a deafening explosion.
Blazing, suffocating heat scorched the edges of my face. Someone slammed into me midrun, yelped, then continued ripping through the pavement. Behind them, a few more people ran for shelter.
I turned my head to the source of the heat. Flames engulfed my Ferrari, which was parked across the street. The orange and yellow fire curled through the windows, climbing higher, dancing upward, reaching for the sky. Charred, black rubber smoke ribboned off the burning wheels.
“Fuck,” Rhyland rasped as a second blast erupted from the car. The doors flew, sailing through the air before dragging across the cement, landing right at our feet.
“Well.” Achilles stopped next to me, producing a cigarette and crouching down to light the tip with the still-burning flame that devoured the door of my car. “Guess we know what Tiernan’s been up to lately.”
“You either pay him or you gut him.” Luca clapped my shoulder. “But you should do one or the other in the next few days, because you won’t have the stomach for what happens next.”
“I’m guessing you changed your mind about that ride, Mr. Instant Karma.” Row looped his keys over his finger.
I gave him a curt nod.
In this game of Russian roulette, Tiernan was the first to pull the trigger.
“If this woman doesn’t die in the next few hours, I swear to God, I will.” I leaned forward to coat my mother’s lips with another layer of Lypsyl.
She was going through them like candy, and every time I applied it to her broken, parched lips, her mouth moved as if she was trying to eat it.
I swiveled toward Dr. Fields, narrowing my eyes. “Are you sure she’s not trying to communicate with us?”
He shook his head. “It’s a reflex. We’re monitoring her daily. No neuroactivity is showing on the scans.”
“It’s been eighteen days.” I capped the Lypsyl and dumped it on the nightstand, pacing across the room. “Something’s wrong. You need to look into her condition.”
“You already received second and third opinions.”
I did. Each one of them supported his prognosis. But this state, of watching my mother suspended above the chasm between life and death, her fingers slipping one millimeter at a time, was pure torture. My entire existence shrank to this room, to this hospital bed, to the empty, withering shell of a once vital woman who danced like no one was looking, read poetry, taught me how to bake cookies, braided my hair, and shaped me to be who I was today.
“Maybe we should reinsert the G-tube,” I said.
My college friends Alix and Sadie both stood up from the couch, about to argue with me, but Fields beat them to it.
“How about I finish doing my morning rounds, and we can discuss it?” His voice was sympathetic.
I nodded distractedly. He left.
“Gia, she’s on death’s door.” Alix put her hand on my shoulder.
“Alix, then she’s got the wrong bloody address,” I sighed.
Tate ambled into the room. My hollow, depleted heart picked up speed at the sight of him. My spine uncurled. He came to visit me every day, and I still arrived home every night to sleep, but we barely spent time together.
He stalked over to me, ignoring my two friends. “Hanging in there?”
“For the most part.”
“I brought someone here.” He stepped away from me. His hand reached into his pocket, and I knew he was tapping his numbers. I studied him in confusion.
“Oh.” I forced out a smile. “You move fast. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Lina McCain,” he provided just as the door opened again and an impeccably dressed, middle-aged woman swanned into the room.
“Okay…”
“She’s a medium and has come to help find out what the holdup is with your mother.” Tate tried to keep a straight face, but I knew better than anyone that this heathen did not believe in the afterlife, souls, or anything else that wasn’t firmly backed by science.
“Gia.” The woman reached over to kiss both my cheeks and give me a hug. “Your husband is very concerned about you. He brought me over on his private plane. I had to cancel a big, big event to be here. I can never turn my back on a family emergency.”