Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
They step into the hall and close the door most of the way. I take the opportunity to look around for my bag. It’s nowhere to be found. Crap. Most of what’s in there is easily replaceable, but if I lost my phone, wallet and keys, I’m screwed.
“What? Is he okay?” Emily’s voice carries in from the hall.
“I don’t know. The bullet hit an artery, and there was a lot of internal bleeding before they got him here,” Doctor Brash answers. “They’re taking him into surgery now.”
“Do Harper and the others know? Oh my God. How’s his brother?”
“He was the one who found him. It wasn’t pretty, but we’ve got our best people working on him. I’m going up after this to find out if we know any more.”
When they come back in, I can see a strain on Emily’s face that wasn’t there before. It sounds like the rally wasn’t the only dangerous place to be. I hope everyone I know is safe, even Rebel and the others. If I can’t find my phone, I’ll never be able to tell him that I made it out, but hopefully he’ll understand.
Twenty minutes and some painkillers later, there’s a numb spot on the back of my head and some sort of adhesive situation that I’m supposed to keep dry and be careful of for a few days. Doc waves goodbye and leaves me once again with Emily to clean up my other cuts and scrapes, along with an official diagnosis for my concussion.
“Is your friend going to be okay?” I ask after Emily tells me I need to stay for a couple hours and take it easy for the next week. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I won’t have anyone looking after me. “Sorry, I overheard when you were talking to the doctor.”
Her smile isn’t quite as bright as it was. “I hope so. He’s my friend’s, um, husband. If anything happens to him, she’s going to be devastated.”
I nod. “I hope he pulls through. Um, Emily? Do you know if anything was brought in with me? I had a little backpack. It was green, if that helps, with, like, buttons and stuff on the flap.”
“Oh! I’m just about done here. I’ll go check. Sometimes personal belongings end up at the desk. Listen, the concussion is probably going to make you feel pretty woozy. Sleep if you need to. Either me or one of the other nurses will come in to check up on you once in a while.” She dims the lights before leaving the room.
I close my eyes when she’s gone. The painkillers are kicking in, and everything feels a little fuzzy around the edges. I’m not hurting anymore, but the weight of everything that’s happened today is starting to sink in. I feel so alone. Who would I even call to take care of me?
My best friend moved away for school after we graduated.
Work? I’m friendly with everyone at the diner, but not actually friends.
Family? I don’t even know if Dad has any he talks to, and Mom’s disowned her when she chose me and Dad over whatever vision they had for her future.
It’s been a year since Mom died, which seems impossibly long, and the blink of an eye at the same time. It was always the two of us against the world, and I miss her.
The next thing I know, Emily’s voice is at my side again. “Melody? Can you wake up for me, honey?” She sounds stressed.
“Hm?” Waking up this time isn’t quite as bad as last time.
“I have good news and maybe bad news.”
I sit up, blinking the cobwebs out of my eyes. My scalp twinges where the adhesive is. “What’s happening?”
“Okay, the good news is that I found your bag.” She plops it down on the bed next to me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
At least I can get into my own house, and I haven’t lost Rebel’s number. “And the bad news?”
Her eyes dart to the door and back. “There are a couple of guys out front looking for a girl who matches your description. Trust me, I’m the last person who would judge them just because they’re bikers, so maybe I’m overreacting. I just got a bad vibe from the way they were talking and wanted to run this by you before we said anything.”
For a second, I think it could be Dad, or maybe Riptide and the others, but then she holds up her phone. On the screen is a slightly out of focus picture of two men with Devil’s Brigade patches talking to the front desk. I’ve never seen them before.
“I—I need to check my phone.” Oh, thank God. It’s safe and sound in the side pocket where I left it.
My battery is running low, but I have full bars on my signal again. There are a few missed calls from Red earlier tonight, and one from Uncle Clutch, but nothing since before the shooting.