Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 51507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Raychel interrupted my heartfelt mea culpa. “It was fine. I mean, I wouldn’t want it to be a continual habit, but I’m not mad or anything.”
“So it wasn’t that either then.” I leaned forward and put my hand on her hip—one of the few places not encased in either plaster or gauze. “Tell me what it was that drove you away from me, out into the night.”
She avoided my eyes and compulsively folded the hem of the starched hospital sheet to within an inch of its life. “Nothing in particular.”
I didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then issued a loud, “Yeah. I’m not buying it. So try to sell me something else. Like the truth.”
“My father.”
“What about your father?” I asked, figuring I already had a good idea, but knowing she needed to be prodded into talking it out.
It tore at my heart when I saw her eyes fill with tears. “I just—I just felt like—like I had betrayed him, you know? He wouldn’t have approved. I know this.”
I knew. I knew very well exactly what she was talking about, because I had felt it, too. “You could have gotten me up, and we could have talked about it,” I cajoled, “instead of sneaking out on me.”
“I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to be alone. I needed to work some stuff out.”
Although I didn’t want to, I did understand what she was saying. “Next time,” I growled huskily, “I’m going to stay awake, and I’m not going to let you leave my side all night long.”
I couldn’t see anything on her skin but purple bruises and red scrapes, but I knew that she was blushing nonetheless.
“Now. Back to this Christopher character.”
“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?” The owner of the voice on her answering machine knocked once on the open door and waltzed in as if he owned the place, running up to Raychel’s other side and kissing her loudly on the cheek.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry! I came as soon as I heard. Are you okay?”
He hadn’t so much as acknowledged me with a glance. All of his attention was focused on Raychel, and I was seeing red, especially when the man reached out and caressed her hair as if he had every right to.
“She’s going to be fine,” I said as I stood and took my place on Raychel’s other side, my hand on her shoulder staking an indisputable claim.
The other man’s response to all of what Raychel would refer to as macho posturing was to smile from ear to ear and hold out his hand. “You must be Anthony LaSalla. I’m so glad you were here for her.”
It was too much of an ingrained response to take another man’s hand when it was offered. I shook hands with the man I considered my closest rival for Raychel’s affections, noting reluctantly that he had a good, firm handshake. I didn’t want to like anything about this man, dammit.
Raychel looked back and forth from one man to another. “Anthony, this is Christopher Maddox. He’s one of my best friends, and absolutely no threat to you at all. He and I are not romantically involved in any way, so you can put down your caveman club any time now.”
My mouth twisted at her depressingly accurate interpretation of my feelings, but I wasn’t going to stand down just because of what she said. I intended to size up the stranger myself. I did sit back down again, but I also kept my big paw on her shoulder, just in case Mr. Maddox got any ideas.
At least he didn’t stay long, and as far as even my narrow definition would allow, he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t have. In fact, he was very loving and affectionate toward Raychel, but in an almost neutered way. I couldn’t find an objection to that; Raychel needed all the loving support she could get.
Christopher kissed Raychel goodbye on the lips, lifting his head and winking deliberately at me. Non-romantic relationship or not, I felt that I should be the only one of the opposite sex who kissed Raychel on the lips.
A nurse’s assistant came in with Raychel’s lunch, and she sat up more than she had been, but she was still disinterested in food. Unfortunately for her lack of appetite, the guard dog beside her wasn’t about to let her skip a meal.
I spent her entire hospital stay—three days—with her, night and day. I didn’t even go home to sleep, preferring, I said, to suffer instead through my nights on one of those atrocious chairs that converted into some semblance of a bed, although I never felt like I had gotten much in the way of sleep in the morning. I did everything for her, usually before she even thought of it herself. She had to try to dissuade me from feeding her at each meal. I ordered enough food for an army each time and tried to persuade her to eat it, but ended up eating most of it myself, wincing all the while at the atrocious quality.