Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I sighed. “I can be there. Thank you, Dr. Parsons.”
I hung up and turned to Griffin, who was watching me now with his arms crossed over his chest, and a scowl on his face that would make most grown men quake in their boots.
“You missed your appointment?” He asked for confirmation.
I nodded. “Yeah. But he’s scheduled me at one.”
He nodded. “One of them will take you.”
I shook my head. “No, y’all are busy. I can drive myself.”
Griffin was already shaking his head in disagreement.
“No. Not now. They burned your house down last night. They sent men after us today. You’re going with someone. End of story,” he said pointedly.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
He nodded. “Who wants to volunteer?”
None of them raised their hands.
I wasn’t upset, though.
Babysitting duty wasn’t as fun as kicking bad guys’ asses, apparently.
“I’ll take her,” Griffin’s father said.
I blinked.
“Uhhh,” I said worriedly.
Griffin grinned. “Dad, I know you’re trying to help, but you aren’t trained like you used to be. You’re getting soft.”
Griffin’s father snorted. “I think not, son. I can take you.”
Griffin raised his eyebrow at his father.
“Yeah?” He asked, moving to his sidearm faster than I could blink.
Griffin’s dad, however, was just as fast, if not a little bit faster.
Only he didn’t have a firearm in his hand.
He’d thrown a knife across the room, and it landed in the wall about two inches shy of Griffin’s hand.
“You were saying?”
Chapter 20
I wish I was lucky enough to count sheep when I fell asleep like I did when I was a kid. Now I count my failures.
-Hard Truth
Lenore
“Call me Carrick,” Griffin’s father ordered.
I nodded. “Okay.”
I looked down at my hands, but used my peripheral vision to study him.
He’d insisted on driving, so I’d handed him the keys to my car that’d miraculously shown up outside the club house, and got into the passenger seat without another word.
“Now, to answer your question that I can see in your eyes: no, I’m not crazy,” he answered.
I rose my eyebrows at him. “That’s not what Griffin said when he was telling me about you and why his mother had to have security.”
Carrick grinned.
“I didn’t say I didn’t used to be crazy, but it’s been a lot of years. And he hasn’t seen me in ten of them…at least until the day of Tanner’s funeral,” Carrick said softly. “I’ve been on a cocktail of anti-anxiety meds, depression meds, and I’ve been going to therapy for damn near twelve years now. I’m about as stable as the next person, I guess,” Carrick explained.
I smiled, staring down into my lap.
“So you never met Tanner?” I asked softly.
Carrick shook his head. “No. Although I knew about him. Rayleigh gave me updates on him. Gave me pictures. I bought him birthday and Christmas presents. I just wasn’t there because Griffin didn’t trust me.”
“Are you upset about that?” I asked quietly, turning to study him.
He looked a lot like Griffin, only he had a lot more laugh lines.
His hair was completely gray, no longer the lovely shade of blonde that Griffin’s was.
He had the same blue eyes, only in a face that was tanner.
He had the same bulky build, and the same sense of style.
And I liked it.
I liked that the two of them were so much alike.
In the fifteen minutes or so I’d been riding with him, I realized that Griffin and Carrick were a lot alike.
“No. Why berate him for doing the same thing with his kid that I wanted to do with my own?” He asked seriously.
I shook my head.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He winked at me. “You’ll know what you’re capable of doing once you have a child of your own. Like that papa of yours, surviving that gator attack.”
I raised a brow at him.
“How do you know about my father?” I asked curiously, turning my attention back to the road in front of us when a downpour started to take over the world around us.
The skies opened up, and thunder boomed overhead, making me grateful I had a large umbrella in the backseat the size of a small Texas town.
He grinned. “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Just because my son lives five hours from me doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on in his everyday life.”
I nodded in understanding.
“Wish I could’ve done more for him once Tanner was gone, though,” he muttered to himself, his statement barely audible to my ears. “I would trade places with Tanner in a heartbeat if it’d make Griff smile like he used to. Although, I saw a glimmer of the old Griffin this weekend after he saved that baby.”
I smiled.
“He’s pretty amazing, my man,” I confirmed. “And I’m happy he’s smiling again, too.”
Carrick pulled into the hospital and parked in the very back of the lot, as close to the exit as he could get without being in the ambulance bay.
I smiled to myself, realizing, once again, how much they were alike.
“Will they let me come into the room with you?” Carrick asked hopefully.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I have no clue, but my guess would be no. It can’t hurt to ask, though,” I pointed out, getting out of the car and grabbing the umbrella from the back seat.
He nodded and followed me into the hospital, staying a foot behind me nearly the entire way.
Getting wet when he didn’t have to.
Once at the check in station, I gave the lady my name and took a seat where Carrick indicated.
Once again, at the closest point to the exit, with our back to the wall, facing the door.
Like father like son.
I didn’t have to wait long, though, which was a rarity for this hospital.
“Can he come in with me?” I asked the lady.
She shook her head. “He can wait in the hall outside the MRI room, but he can’t be in the room with you.”
I nodded. “That’ll do, thank you.”
Twenty minutes later, I was laying inside a huge, hulking machine, trying valiantly to tune out the annoyance of the machine clicking and clanking away.
At first it wasn’t too bad, but the longer you sit there, the harder it becomes to ignore.