Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Wait. Soup.”
I paused for a beat, unsure what he meant till he pointed at the bags. “Yeah, don’t worry about those. I’ll get them. Let’s just get you out of the cold.”
Thankfully, I’d parked close by and was able to get him inside the truck quickly. I blasted the heat and went back to retrieve my gloves and the groceries. My timing was impeccable. The heavens opened even more, and suddenly those pretty snowflakes looked more like a gauzy white curtain. Icy wind nipped at my nape, sending shivers up my spine as I dove behind the wheel. Phew.
I glanced over at Silas, who sat forward with his knuckles pressed to the vent.
“Sss better,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Put your seat belt on. Let’s get you home.”
“Can’t.”
I frowned. “Can’t what?”
“Move. Fingers stuck.” He lifted his hand and shrugged.
“Here. Gimme your hand.”
Silas didn’t argue. I suspected he didn’t have the energy. But he widened his eyes comically when I rubbed his palms between mine.
“Nice,” he hummed.
“Good. If you can feel that, you’re in fine shape.”
“I can’t feel my pinkies or this one.” He waggled his middle finger.
“Are you really flipping me off?” I joked.
Silas’s snort-laugh had a manic tone. “No. Wrong one. It’s this one. I used to have a ring on it. Not anymore.”
I let go of his hand and studied my unexpected detour of the day.
Like it or not, my good deed of the morning had morphed into something more.
I’d never set eyes on this guy in my life and yet over the past few hours, I’d volunteered to shovel his fucking car in his driveway and rescued his ass from near frostbite. Sure, I always tried to help where I could, but this was a lot. And the snowstorm added another element.
This stretch of Belvedere was usually busy, but now…it was ghostly quiet. Just the odd vehicle on the road. Which meant that for all intents and purposes, I’d somehow become a caregiver to a stranger with hypothermia. No. I couldn’t be responsible for him.
“I’m going to take you to the clinic. They can treat you for—”
“No,” he interrupted. “No f-f-fucking way. I don’t want to be a headline, and I’m fine.”
“A headline?”
“F-football.”
“Uh…”
“I’m f-fine. Cold and stiff, but…” A lock of wet hair fell across Silas’s forehead as he shifted to face me. “If you could give me a ride, that would b-b-be great.”
This was just the beginning of the storm, so wherever he went was where he’d be for up to twenty-four hours. He’d definitely be more comfortable at his buddy’s cabin than the clinic, and while I was no nurse, I knew that getting warm and dry was the key.
“Yeah, okay. Seat belt.”
Silas snickered, and yep…he sounded deranged. “Can’t do it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I reached across the console, pulled on the strap, and secured it. I buckled my own, and carefully inched the truck onto the slick road.
Eddie Money serenaded us about two tickets to paradise for less than half a mile before the airwaves were clogged with static. I silenced the radio, turned the windshield wipers up to maximum speed, and drove like a fucking snail through near whiteout conditions.
A few inches of snow had fallen since this morning on Red Oak Lane. I slowed in front of Silas’s driveway but quickly decided he was better off at my house for now. I didn’t want to waste time searching for blankets or clothing. Silas was broader than me and maybe an inch taller, however, I knew I had a pair of sweats that might fit him…and some long johns too.
I eased the garage door up, parked, and hurried to the passenger side to help Silas. He’d become Frankenstein again—every little move was gangly and awkward. I breathed a sigh of relief the moment we were inside the house, where it was warm and toasty.
“Where am I?” Silas asked, his bottom lip trembling with cold.
“My place. Let’s get you dry. Take your clothes off. I’ll grab a pair of long johns for you and make a fire.”
“Yeah…okay.” He didn’t move a muscle, and it took less than a second for me to realize that he couldn’t.
“Shit.” I rubbed my jaw in frustration, then guided him into the living room. “Sit on the coffee table. That’s good. Now give me your foot.”
He obeyed. “Sss cold still, huh?”
“Better than outside. Your sneakers are toast. Remind me to yell at you later for attempting to walk home in this mess.” I carefully rolled his wet socks off, wincing at his deathly pale skin that verged on blue. I pulled a throw blanket from the arm of the sectional sofa facing the hearth and wrapped his feet in it. “We’ve got to get you warm.”
I started a fire, put water in the electric kettle, and raced upstairs for towels, a blanket, and extra clothing. Silas had unzipped his jacket, but the effort exhausted him.