Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Heart fucking racing, I keep riding, eyes darting as far as the light will let me see. I round a bend and skid on the brakes when I see a small girl, back against a tree, head in her hands, body trembling. Fuck. I stop the bike and she looks up, eyes startled and wide. She’s not bleeding from what I can see. And I thank whoever looked after her for that, because fuck, if something happened to her ...
No.
I stride over, squatting down in front of her. The light from the bike is shining over us, and I can see her face. She’s sobbing, her face is red and puffy, and she looks terrified. I cup her cheeks in my big hands and say, really slowly because she’s too upset for me to speak fast, “Are you okay?”
She begins to nod, and then she shakes her head and starts crying harder.
“Amalie,” I say over and over, even though she isn’t looking at me. “Amalie, angel, fuckin’ look at me.”
She’s still shaking her head, crying so hard her tiny body is shaking.
I gently put pressure on her cheeks and she finally looks at me again.
“Are you hurt?” I ask her.
She nods. “M-m-m-my ankle.”
I pull back and reach down, running a hand down her leg and reaching her ankle. Shit. It’s swollen, big and purplish looking. She twisted it hard, possibly even broke it.
“I’m goin’ to carry you to my bike, and get you home, okay?” I ask her, holding her red, broken eyes.
“Okay, Malakai.”
Her voice is so fucking soft, and so fucking broken, it breaks my damn heart. I reach for her, scooping her up into my arms, and I carry her to the bike. She’s so light I can hardly feel her weight as I move. When I reach the bike, I place her on the front. Off-road bikes are a little different to what I ride, the seat is long and mostly flat, so the passenger can go on the front if need be.
I climb on behind her, curling my hand around her waist and pulling her so she’s nestled firmly between my legs. She softens there, melting into me, her head slightly resting on one of my biceps. I start the bike and take off, going a lot slower now. She doesn’t move much, but I’m sure I hear her wince a few times. She’s in pain, and every bump is probably agony. I get off the trail as fast as I can. It’ll be smoother once we reach the paddock.
When we do, I open the gate and ride in, making sure it’s locked behind me. We take a steady journey home, not wanting to injure her any further. When I see the ranch come into view, I exhale. When we reach the gate, Scarlett has already come running out. Her eyes are wide and she says to me, “Is she okay?”
“Twisted ankle, that’s as much as I can tell for now. She’s upset. Your horse is in this paddock, I locked it in.”
Scarlett nods and we ride through. She locks the gate behind us and meets us back at the barn. As soon as we’re in the light, she runs over to Amalie, cupping her face. “Amalie, are you okay?”
Amalie nods, and softly says, “I’m so sorry Scarlett. I only wanted to go for a ride. Something scared him and he reared up ...”
“Oh, honey, it’s not your fault. Not your fault at all. Let’s get you inside.”
I get off the bike and take Amalie into my arms, carrying her inside Scarlett’s cottage. I place her down on the sofa, and she looks up at me, eyes so fucking broken it hurts to look at her. I kneel down in front of her, taking her foot into my hands and inspecting it. Don’t think it’s broken, but she did a good job at twisting it.
I look at her again. “Don’t think it’s broken, but you should probably get it looked at tomorrow anyway.”
She nods.
I look to Scarlett to tell her to get some ice, but she’s already by my side, ice in hand. I take it and place it on Amalie’s foot. She winces and looks down. I look to Scarlett, and she gives me a pleading expression. As if begging me to do something.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to fucking do.
I’m not made for these kinds of situations.
“Maybe she should have a shower, she’s covered in dirt. I’ll make her some tea,” Scarlett suggests.
Maverick appears from her bedroom, wet from a shower, and his eyes fall on Amalie. “Fuck, bro, what happened?”
“Horse dropped her,” I mutter.
“She hurt?”
“Body? Not so much. Mind? Yeah somethin’ is very fuckin’ wrong.”
Maverick looks at Amalie, and his jaw tightens. Like me, he doesn’t like seeing anyone in pain. And the kind of pain Amalie is in makes you feel it right to your core.