Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“I know it might be weird, but can you be in the room with me? Jimmie doesn’t want me alone.” And honestly, I didn’t want to be alone either. Having Derek there would make me feel safer—not one hundred percent safe, but safer than I’d feel on my own. If Zac happened to find me, Derek would keep him away. I couldn’t rely on hospital staff to do that, not when I knew how easy it was for him to get whatever he wanted as soon as he flashed that expensive smile and turned on his charm.
“I’ll stay,” Derek promised.
My phone began buzzing at that moment, scaring me so damn bad I let out a small shriek. Derek ended up swerving but quickly righted the truck, shooting me a concerned look. When I grabbed my phone from my lap, I relaxed.
Jimmie.
I quickly swiped my thumb across the screen to answer his call. “Hello?” I croaked.
“We’re on our way,” Jimmie told me, and I could hear the roar of his truck in the background, which meant his phone was connected to his truck. “Dylan is with me, and Byron is following in his car. We’ll be there early in the morning. You good at your sister’s, or do you need me to put you up somewhere?”
My eyes burned with tears. Jimmie had always told me if I needed anything to call him. To never hesitate in reaching out. I’d always thought it was just something he felt obligated to say, but now that I was in dire need of his assistance, he was coming through for me without a beat of hesitation.
“I’m okay at my sister’s,” I told him, clearing my throat. “Derek and I are on our way to the hospital now. Wyatt is with Carla and Brandon, and he’s sleeping in their room with them tonight.”
“Good. Which hospital?” Jimmie demanded to know.
“Hartwell General. Zac doesn’t have access there, but Derek is going to be in the room with me just in case.”
“Good,” Jimmie said again. “Keep me updated. I want to know when you get there, when you’re in a triage room, when you see a doctor—everything. I’ll call Carla in a minute and get an update on Wyatt.”
“Okay,” I said softly. “Jimmie?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Thank you.” My voice sounded strangled to my own ears, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t know what I’d do without him, and that was the fucking truth.
“Don’t thank me, baby,” he said, his tone softening. My throat bobbed as I swallowed. He’d already called me that so many times today, and it always soothed something inside me to hear it. He hadn’t called me that since before I got pregnant with Wyatt, and I’d missed it. He was the only guy to ever call me by a pet name. “I told you—I’m here if you need me. I meant that. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Drive safe.”
“Always,” he promised. Then, the call ended. I lowered the phone from my ear with a tired sigh, leaning my head against the window. Derek reached over and clasped my hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“You’ll be out of here soon, girly,” he reminded me. “Just hang on.”
I just nodded, a tear running down my cheek.
Chapter Three
Jimmie
The fear in her voice resonated through my skull even after the call had ended. I white-knuckled the steering wheel, trying to keep my rage under control. There wasn’t much I got angry over, but knowing she’d been raped, that the mother fucker she’d been planning to marry had raised his hand to our son, made me want to fucking beat him into a bloody goddamn pulp.
“Need me to drive?” Dylan asked, looking up from his phone where he’d no doubt been texting his wife, Paige. Paige was a gorgeous blonde that Dylan had fallen head over heels for in college. The moment he laid eyes on her, he was a goner. They had two kids: Kaylyn, who was biologically only Dylan’s, and Lillian, who was biologically only Paige’s. Kaylyn had been born while we were all in high school. Her mother had dropped her off with Dylan, and Dylan had retained full custody of her since. Lillian was born while we were all in college. Her father was a deadbeat son of a bitch, who—last I’d heard—was in jail for having a meth lab or something like that.
“I’m good,” I grunted, forcing my grip to loosen. “Just… I want to fucking kill him,” I growled.
Dylan nodded. “I know, man. Trust me, I understand the feeling all too well.” I knew he did. Whereas Lucas, Lillian’s father, had never put his hands physically on Paige to my knowledge, he’d done a lot of fucked up shit to her otherwise. “Just keep your head on straight, yeah? We’ll be there in a few hours, and you can get both of them home where they’re safe.”