Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Leif is somewhere here.
He’s close. If the police truly knew we were still in the building, then Leif knew too.
He’s here somewhere. I have to believe he’s going to come and rescue me.
Did Smith make it to the ground? I could look down, but I’m afraid to.
The rope tightens and moves with us, I don’t know if it’s from The Dark One or Smith.
But then—
A shot.
A gunshot. One…and then two or three more. Maybe more than that.
All I know is that one of them might have hit me.
I have no protection. Smith and The Dark One are probably wearing bulletproof clothing, but me?
No. I scream out.
The rope…it’s breaking… The screech…
And then we’re falling, falling, falling…
Time suspends itself.
What should take a microsecond actually takes moments… Hours even…
I wish…
I wish for life.
I wish for life with Leif.
But it’s gone. Life can be gone in an instant. I didn’t starve to death as a child, I didn’t die from one of my mother’s beatings, I didn’t die on the island where I was tortured and abused.
I didn’t die tonight when I told The Dark One to kill me. At least that would have been a dignified death, dying rather than going with him.
But this? Falling to the ground? No dignity in this death.
And now… This is no way for me to die. Strapped to The Dark One, the man I hate most in the world.
He’s not my brother. Even if the DNA says he is…he’s not. He’s fucking not.
How is there time for me to be thinking all of this?
And then the drop…the pain…and the darkness.
40
LEIF
Kelly’s eyelids are fluttering. She seems agitated, but she’s asleep. A nightmare. I know the signs. I’ve been plagued by nightmares myself, and I’ve seen how Buck reacted while he was having one.
A nurse comes in.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say to her. “She seems very disturbed.”
“Her vitals are good, heart rate’s up just a little. She’s probably dreaming.”
“It’s not a dream. It’s a nightmare.”
“Some dreams are nightmares, Mr. Ramsey. I assure you she’s fine.”
“Could you give her something to calm her down?”
“Not without checking with her doctor.”
“Could you check with her then?” I look at her face, at her clear agitation. It breaks my heart. “I don’t want Kelly in any pain, physical or otherwise.”
“When she wakes up, she won’t remember any of this, Mr. Ramsey.”
“But I can’t bear the thought…” I rub my hand over my forehead.
“Medications are most likely contraindicated. She’s already on antibiotics and analgesics. Something to calm her down will make her sleep more, and at this point, the doctors want her to wake up.”
I nod. “I just…”
“She’s been through a lot,” the nurse says. “I understand your feelings. But everything looks good. The doctor seems to think she’s going to pull through. She’s lucky there are no lasting injuries.”
“But she said—the doctor—that she wants to do another MRI.”
“Yes, just to be sure. We don’t take half measures here at this hospital, Mr. Ramsey. We want to make sure she’s okay. And sometimes—”
“I know. Sometimes a slow bleed doesn’t show up until twenty-four hours later.”
That’s not going to happen to Kelly. Damn it, it’s not going to happen to Kelly.
The nurse makes some notes and then meets my gaze again. “Everything truly does look fine, Mr. Ramsey. Please try not to worry. If any of her vitals need my attention, an alarm will sound on her monitors.”
“Yes, I know.”
“So there’s no reason for you to worry.”
I sigh, grabbing Kelly’s limp hand. “Not until we get the next MRI, anyway.”
“I’m sure the doctor told you that she is confident things will be okay.”
“Yes, but she can’t guarantee anything.”
“No doctor can, Mr. Ramsey. It would be unethical to make any kind of guarantee.”
“I know.”
I rub my forehead again. I’m sweating, but I’m cold. Worry consumes me. I can’t lose Kelly. I just can’t.
I hold onto her hand, listen to her heartbeat on the monitor. When her eyelids flutter, her heart rate increases. But not enough to set the alarms off.
Try not to worry, Mr. Ramsey.
Funny. All those times overseas when my life was truly in peril—when I watched my friends die—I didn’t worry like this. I was concerned. I did what I had to do to save my life and others. And I wasn’t always successful.
But it was my job, and I did it to the best of my ability.
And somehow… Somehow I always rose from the ashes.
But I’m not the person who concerns me now. Kelly is. I want her to be the Phoenix. I want her to rise.
She’s strong. Strong and determined.
Still…worry eats at my gut.
I sit, holding her hand, trying to pour all my energy into her.
I’m not sure how many moments pass—probably over an hour—before someone enters.
It’s a new nurse. She’s wearing blue scrubs, like the other nurse, but something’s different.
“How is she doing?” the nurse asks.