Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
39
KARA
Teeth brushed, showered, and dressed in my own clothes, I felt somewhat normal, albeit weak, so I didn’t refuse the wheelchair when they brought it to me. My lightheadedness should be gone in another day, according to the doctor who was fluent in English.
“Where am I going?” I asked when I was seated.
“I’m taking you to the airport,” Shawn answered.
Good. I was anxious to get going. An orderly pushed me out into the hall and paused for Shawn and Laurel to follow. When we were on the move, he texted Jason that we were leaving but then let out a sigh. Whatever was sent back frustrated him.
“What is going on?” I asked.
As soon as the elevators closed us in, he crouched down to face me at eye-level, frowning. “When we get to the lobby, it’s going to be unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant how?”
“There’s video of what happened in the square.”
“Okay,” I said, not understanding. We’d been in a crowded, public place, so it wasn’t surprising there’d been cameras.
“And there’s been a lot of news coverage of my brewery being bombed and the woman who was abducted. It didn’t take people long to identify me, or you as the woman in that video.”
Before it could sink in, the doors opened to reveal the large number of media camped out to the side of the hospital, just beyond the glass doors of the lobby. Long lenses were up and facing us, a gigantic flurry of activity when Shawn straightened to stand beside me.
I wanted to pull the brakes on the wheelchair but had no idea how, and the orderly pressed forward. Jason was waiting, his back to the cameras, facing us. He said something, perhaps in German or maybe in English, but it was too difficult to tell. There were so many cameras and reporters, it was all I could focus on.
“Kara,” Jason said, drawing my attention. He had his hands on his hips, and his expression was unclear. As if he were wrestling with something. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay what you did for us.”
He wasn’t like Shawn. Words of gratitude and expressing feelings didn’t come easy.
“Thank you,” he pushed out, heavy with meaning.
I looked at my sister, who stepped into her husband’s arms.
“Laurel would have done the same for me,” I said, “and you did shoot the asshole.” He had a look like that wasn’t enough, so I continued, “You can, like, get me a gift card or something if you feel inclined.”
He nodded, barely cracking a smile. Juric had made a mess of his life, but that was over now, and he hadn’t come out of it empty-handed.
My gaze drifted back to the reporters beyond the glass who were shouting my name and Shawn’s, and it ratcheted up my heartrate.
Jason’s attention went to his brother. “I did the best I could.”
“Believe me, I know,” he said. They could have been talking about anything.
Laurel leaned over and hugged me tightly. “Have a safe trip, and you call me when you get there, okay?”
I didn’t want to leave her, but the cameras . . . “Okay,” I said over my disappointment. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Her gaze rose to Shawn, and she gave him the evil eye. It made him smile, and he pulled her into a quick hug.
“Auf Wiedersehen,” she said.
“Don’t stop moving when you get outside,” Jason commanded. “Good luck.”
When my sister and brother-in-law stepped into a vacant elevator, Shawn said something to the orderly, and I was rolling forward. Everything was happening too fast for me. “Wait, wait! Shawn, I can’t do this.”
He gave me a pained look. “They’re not going to go away.”
The first set of glass doors peeled open, forcing me to shrink back into the wheelchair. The crowd of people with cameras jostled over each other to get into position, snapping pictures. It was mid-morning, but their flashes went off regardless, a sickening strobe effect.
He took my hand when the second set of doors opened, unleashing hell on us. The shouting was a roar, a mix of German and English questions almost impossible to discern. There were a few security personnel who kept a path clear, a bubble of space around us that collapsed almost immediately.
I wanted to die.
Laurel had selected a long-sleeved shirt for me even though it was warm outside, but there was no hiding my face or the faint ring of bruising around my neck. When a camera was shoved in front of me, Shawn batted it away and pressed us forward into the crowd. Where was he going?
Then I saw the limo waiting with the door open, impossible to see through the throng of people until we were almost on top of it.
“Kara! Kara Hayward,” the man beside me yelled. “Look over here!”
I didn’t dare. My eyes were fixed on Shawn, who pushed a cameraman out of the way and used my hand he was holding to pull me to my feet. I didn’t need him to say anything. I flung myself into the back seat and made way for him to follow. Which he did, struggling to close the door to the limo and probably breaking a camera in the process.