Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“What?” she questions, panic in her eyes. “Neither. I mean, of course I hate him. He’s a jackass. Not to mention, he still hasn’t done anything about your ticket despite you dating his best friend.”
“You like him,” I say, not happy about it.
“No, really,” she argues, “I don’t. He drives me insane. Plus he’s got an ego on him. I just enjoy fucking him. That’s all.”
“The sooner you face it the better. He drives you insane because you can’t stop thinking about him, and it freaks you out that you keep going back to him because that might just mean that you’re developing feelings for him. Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why. His dick must be huge.”
She presses her lips together in a tight line. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“Only if you admit that I’m right,” I practically sing.
“You’re dead wrong.”
I grin as I look over at her and place my hand on her thigh, waiting until I have her undivided attention. “It’s okay, Smelly Melly,” I say, digging deep to find my most condescending tone. “You’re going through this thing we call denial. It’s a strong emotion, and I get it. It’s like a cloud of fog covering your thoughts, but don’t stress, my slutty friend, the fog will soon clear and the denial will fade, leaving you with only the truth—you’re falling for a jackass.”
“Shut up,” she groans as she pushes my hand off her thigh and lets out a huff before focusing on her phone a little too hard.
Georgie’s monitor starts beeping, notifying me of a change in her condition, and the grin fades from my face. We both jump up and stride across the room, glancing over the monitor to figure out what’s going on. Her heart rate has increased, and after double-checking all her other vitals, I’m able to put it down to a bad dream.
I give her little hand a gentle squeeze before taking my seat with a heavy heart. I hate the idea that she could be having a bad dream, but I hate it more that the dream is most likely a replay of the horrendous night she had. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was traumatized by it for months to come.
Mel reaches across the couch and gives my leg a squeeze. “She’s going to be . . .”
A deafening alarm sounds over the ward, cutting our conversation short, and we look at each other for a panic-filled moment before bursting to our feet. “What the hell is that?” I ask as I look over Georgie, who’s seconds from bursting into tears as the deafening alarm assaults her ears.
Both our pagers go off at the same time, and I look down at mine. “Code Silver?” I question as I look up at Mel in horror.
“That’s not . . .”
“Yeah,” I breathe, the panic eating at me. “A shooter in the hospital.”
“FUCK!”
Mel quickly assesses the situation before nodding to Georgia, clearly aware that I’m an extra set of hands on the pediatric ward. “Stay with her. Protect her with your fucking life.” And with that, she’s darting out the door, her mind already consumed with protecting the other children in her care.
I hurry to the door and lock it while staying right where Georgie can see me. Peering through the small window into the hallway, I watch Mel hurry to the nurses’ station to speak with her supervisor. The pediatric ward is a flurry of panicked activity as they quickly go into their lockdown procedure, and as Mel turns back to me with horror on her face, my stomach drops.
She starts hurrying back to me to let me know what’s going on when we hear the first terror-filled scream coming from the end of our hallway, realization dawning on both of our faces.
The gunman is on this ward.
Fuck.
A booming demand sounds from down the hall, sending my blood cold. “Where’s my daughter?” he roars over the noise of the alarms and screams, the tone of his voice crystal clear, even behind the locked door of Georgie’s room.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What the hell are we going to do? I try to go over the hospital’s policies and procedures, but apart from locking the doors and covering the children, there’s nothing else that could possibly help us now. The hospital would have gone into lockdown the second the alarm went off, meaning the big double doors leading in and out of the pediatric ward have been locked.
No escape.
No way for me to get Georgie out of here.
No way for the rest of the children to get to safety.
We’re stuck here with a madman until someone comes to help.
“I’m scared,” Georgie cries.
“Me too, sweet girl,” I murmur, unable to take my gaze off Mel out in the hall. “Me too.”