Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
With New York City far behind them, she’d finally pulled off at a rest stop and examined his wounds. The bleeding had mostly stopped, which was a good sign. She was pretty sure she could see one of the bullets right beneath his flesh. She’d need to remove it. The other one appeared to have gone straight through his side, but she couldn’t be sure. His rib was likely broken, and he’d lost so much blood, he was in shock. Not to mention medicated, even if only by over-the-counter products. She’d given him a lot, but his wounds were extensive, and he was a very large man.
Her sweater was saturated with his blood, so she folded it and placed it on the floor. They’ll have his DNA at the crime scene. They’ll test it. Was he in any public databases? She had no idea, but she’d know soon enough. If they were able to identify him, his picture would be all over the news.
Autumn jumped from the truck and ran for the house but pivoted when she saw Bill walking from his shop. She skidded, reversing course as he rounded the corner, his face breaking into a smile that immediately dropped when he took in her face.
“Darlin’? What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing forward. His gaze went to the truck in his driveway momentarily, his brow creasing before he looked back to her, eyes traveling from her face to her feet quickly and then back again. “Are you okay?”
She took in a gulp of air, nodded, and then shook her head. “Yes. No. I mean, Bill, I need your help.”
“With what, honey? What’s going on?”
Autumn pointed over her shoulder at the truck, parked so that Bill couldn’t see the giant, wounded man sitting in the passenger seat. “There’s a man in there, Bill. The man.”
“The man? Autumn, slow down. What man?”
“The man from the woods. His name is Sam.” Sam. His name is Sam. My moonlight boy has a name!
Bill froze, his gaze darting to the truck again and then back to Autumn. “What? How?”
“I don’t have time to get into all the details. He’s been shot and he needs medical attention. Bill, I need to use the lake house.”
Bill had bought a lake house—really more of a fishing cottage—the year after Allie died. He went in the summers to fish and the fall and winter to walk in the woods and bask in the utter solitude. To seek healing only nature could provide. Of course, just a short time later, Autumn herself had arrived at his door, and his life had been flipped upside down, so he didn’t use the cottage regularly.
Bill’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “The lake house? Wa-wa-wait. You’re going to take a wounded stranger—”
“He’s not a stranger,” she insisted, casting her eyes to the side momentarily. “Exactly. I mean he is, but—”
“I can’t allow it. He needs to go to a hospital.”
Autumn set her shoulders back. “I don’t have time to argue, Bill. I love you more than life, but I’m going to help this man whether you let me use the lake cottage or not. I’m already in deep. I fled the scene of a crime—”
“The scene of a crime!” He gripped his hair, spinning around and then back. “What is happening here?”
“I’m on the run is what’s happening. I might be a fugitive. I’ll explain everything later. But right now, I need medical supplies, and I need a place to hide him. I’m sorry to drag you into this, but…Bill, I need you. Please help me.” She beseeched him with her eyes, and he looked at her for a moment before setting his jaw, looking away, and then giving one curt nod.
“What’s mine is yours, Autumn. You know that.”
Autumn let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”
Bill still had a mildly shell-shocked expression on his face, but she could relate. And she was the one who was going to have to do her best to dig bullets out of a man twice her size with whatever supplies Bill could obtain and the things she had at her apartment in her medical bag that she’d have to ask Bill to pick up. “Let me see this man.”
“I don’t have time. I’m heading to the cottage, and I need you to gather everything you can from the list I’m going to make for you and meet me there. And, Bill, I need you to hurry.”
Before he could respond, Autumn raced inside the house, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the kitchen junk drawer, and scrawled a list she hoped was legible. Then she ran back outside, grabbed Bill’s hand, and stuck the list in it before racing to the truck, jumping in, and backing out of the driveway. Bill watched, his mouth open slightly, not having moved from the place where he stood, as if he needed a minute or two to let the events fully catch up to him.