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)
Which meant he had to find the white-haired man, who’d somehow gotten away despite being shot several times, and the woman in the coral sweater, who still hadn’t come forward.
Chapter Twenty
“Here, hold on to me,” Autumn said, bending her knees and leaning toward Sam so he could grasp her shoulder as he stood.
He grunted and gave her a look he hoped told her that was a bad idea.
Autumn shook her head and stood straight, her expression aggravated. “Fine then, do it yourself.”
Sam pushed himself off the bed, wincing as he came to a slow stand, unbending his large frame inch by inch. When he’d straightened to his full height, he released a breath. Things seemed to be in order. And he hadn’t felt anything tear.
“Okay?” Autumn asked.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Good,” she said. “Mere mortals wouldn’t have survived.”
He frowned. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, except that he was…inhuman. Different. Which was true, but he didn’t like to hear her point it out. Didn’t like what she now knew about him, the things she obviously must have seen.
She paused, her eyes moving over his features and then to his frowning lips. Her mouth curved downward too as if responding to his. “I just meant…you’re very strong, Sam.”
He followed Autumn to the bathroom.
“I put a new toothbrush on the sink for you, and anything else you might need should be in there as well. I’ll be right outside,” she said. “Just yell if you need me.”
Sam closed the door behind him, going about his business slowly, like an old, decrepit man. Like Adam. He felt an odd sensation in his chest and…did he miss the old fool? Yeah, he did. He didn’t know why exactly, but he did. And he hadn’t returned his truck or the generator he’d been sent to pick up. Adam likely thought he’d stolen it. He probably wasn’t surprised. He let people steal things from him more often than not.
So why did Sam feel guilty about it? Especially considering all the other things he should be worrying about?
He shuffled to the small sink, bending enough that he could splash water on his face and use the toothbrush Autumn had set out for him. He brushed his teeth and then stood upright even more easily this time. He’d experienced this part many times before. He’d heal. He’d get better quickly. He couldn’t do more than hobble yet, but once he was able to get around well enough on his own, the worst would be over.
“Everything okay in there?” Her voice came from directly on the other side of the door.
That tugging at his lips. He looked up at the mirror in front of him and realized he was smiling. He reached up, running his fingers over the unfamiliar shape of his mouth.
“Hello? Sam?”
“Yes. Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to take a shower.”
“Are you sure you don’t need…” She was quiet for a moment, and he felt one brow raise as he waited for her to finish that sentence. Are you sure you don’t need me to help you?
The vision appeared in his mind, bright and vibrant, her arms around him from behind as he stood under the spray of water. Skin on skin. He shut it down. The picture made him feel too many sensations and all at once. Desire. Fear. Confusion. Shame.
“Er, I mean, are you sure you can manage it?”
“Yes. I can manage it,” he told her through the door.
“You’ll have to be careful with your bandages. Try not to get them wet, but I’ll redress your wounds when you get out.”
“Okay.” He waited for a moment until he heard the soft creak of the wooden floor under her footsteps before getting undressed. She’d helped him pull on a pair of sweatpants the day before, and he removed them now, and then the ruined boxers, soiled with his blood, balling them up and tossing them in the small trash can near the sink. For a moment, he stood looking at himself in the mirror, all the scars more obvious against his sickly pallor. They jumped out at him, making him feel nauseated and ashamed. Autumn had seen them all up close. He wondered if she’d been horrified when she undressed him, and he cast his mind from visualizing that moment. Had she drawn away from his ugliness? Winced? Gagged?
He turned from the mirror, making the shower water run cold. The stall was small, but he fit inside, even if he had to bend to wet his hair. As he washed himself gingerly, he thought back to that schoolyard. He couldn’t get the sounds out of his head. It was always the sounds that haunted him. The visions hurt, but the noises shook him…the gunshots, and worse, the cries. There were so many cries that mingled in his mind. Sad cries. Terrified ones.