Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Parsnip,” she told him.
“All right, parsnip it is. That’s your safeword. It gets too much and you need me to take over, then you say that word and I take over.”
“Shouldn’t it be a v-vegetable I l-like?” she asked.
His lips twitched. Surprisingly, this rather strange conversation was helping clear her mind of panic.
“All right, what’s your favorite food?”
“Croissants,” she said.
“Yeah? All right. Croissants it is. You say it, I take charge and you don’t have to think at all. You just have to obey me. Now, breathe. Good girl. Everything is going to be all right.”
She shook her head as another sob worked its way through her. She didn’t see how. It couldn’t possibly be all right.
Hayes looked over as someone entered the room. Another nurse. A woman this time, with a concerned look on her face.
“Hi, I’m Anna. I’ve just come to check on Devi. Her heart has been racing a bit hard. I know it can be a shock coming out of surgery like this.”
“Surgery? I had surgery?” she asked as the nurse moved around.
“Yes, honey. Don’t worry. It’s normal to forget things like that. But you had to have surgery on your arm and the doctor also stitched your cheek.”
She could feel the panic rising again. There was no way she could do this.
But Devi knew she shouldn’t rely on Hayes to take over. What happened when he left?
Just for a short time. It might be the only way she got through.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
The nurse gave her a look filled with sympathy, which told her everything she needed to know.
Just hold on, Devi. Things could be worse.
“The doctor will be in soon to talk to you. He’s a man, are you okay with him in there?”
“Um, yes. I’ll be okay, thanks for warning me.” She was feeling calmer now.
She left and Devi looked up at Hayes. “How bad?”
“It will be all right.”
“Hayes,” she said firmly. “Don’t placate me and don’t lie to me. How. Bad?”
“Bad, baby. The knife damaged tendons and ligaments. You’re going to need physical therapy. Maybe another surgery on your arm.”
Oh God.
She thought she might vomit. Before she could decide if she was going to throw up or faint, the doctor stepped into the room.
“It’s good to see you awake, Devi. How are you feeling?”
How did he think she was feeling?
“Right,” the doctor said with more sympathy.
Awesome.
“I’m sure you’re aware that you came in with knife wounds. The one to your face was superficial, but it is likely to scar. I gave your fiancé a couple of names of plastic surgeons who can help fix that.”
Fiancé? Who was that? Then she noticed he was looking at Hayes. Wait. Hadn’t Mac called him that too? She pushed those thoughts aside. That hardly mattered right now.
What did matter was concentrating on what the doctor said. She thought she only caught every second or third word. But the gist of it was that her arm was fucked.
And she wouldn’t be doing any pottery for a long, long time.
“Do you have any questions?” the doctor asked her.
Devi knew it was wrong to lean on him. But he’d offered and she felt so overwhelmed that she couldn’t breathe.
“Croissants,” she said.
“What?” the doctor asked. “She wants a croissant?”
“Um, yes. Maybe later she’ll have one,” Hayes said. “Thank you, doctor. I think she’s a bit overwhelmed and just needs some timeout.”
She nearly snorted at his choice of words. Timeout.
Yeah. Timeout from the world.
Devi stared up at the ceiling. What was she going to do? Her pottery was her ticket out of here. And it was gone. How would she support herself now?
There was no one to help her. There was no way she could afford this hospital bill let alone rehab and a plastic surgeon.
A small sob escaped her.
“Devi, he’s gone. Talk to me, baby. It’s just you and me.” Hayes sat on the side of the bed, facing her.
“I know . . . I know it’s stupid to be so upset over my arm when Derick . . . when my father might be . . . but creating art . . . making vases and bowls . . . it was everything. It was my escape. My happy place. It’s all gone.”
“Hey, look at me. It’s not gone.” He cupped the side of her face, turning her head so she had no choice but to look at him. “It’s just temporary. You’re going to be able to do anything that you want eventually.”
She let out a small bark of laughter. “Should have known. Got so close to escaping. And he ruined it. He ruins everything.”
Devi could hear the bitterness in her voice.
“Who does? Your father? Did he have something to do with what happened?” he asked sharply.
She couldn’t answer . . . she didn’t know what to say.