Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
With a nod, I answer the phone. Before I can say hello, my dad’s voice blares through the receiver.
“Claire,” he growls.
“No, sir. It’s Taylor.”
“Taylor.” He sounds out of breath. “Put your mother on the phone.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No, your idiot brother shot himself in the foot with his rifle.”
I gasp at his words. “Is Shaun okay?”
“What’s going on?” Mom says from behind me, wiping her hands on a towel. She takes the phone from me, a single tear streaking down her face as my dad tells her about Shaun.
A minute later, she hangs up the phone and rips her apron off, dropping it onto the counter. “We have to get going, honey. Looks like we’re spending Thanksgiving at the hospital.”
She grabs her car keys, and without taking a single thing with me, I follow her into the driveway. Thirty minutes later, we’re in the emergency room with my dad, who’s dressed head-to-toe in camouflage.
He stands as we approach, pushing his hands to his hips. Even after years of retirement, he still looks like a commanding officer. I never expected my dad to retire from the Marine Corps to work for a contractor, but my mom had begged him to settle down.
“Shaun needs surgery to repair the damage,” my dad says, embracing my mom in his arms.
She’s trembling, while my dad is as cool as a cucumber. Nothing fazes him. He’s seen much worse in the field than my brother shooting his toe off. My poor brother. As much as my dad tries, he will never make Shaun like him. Shaun is creative and carefree, where my dad is a trained killer who doesn’t have a soft bone in his body.
After he releases my mom, Dad pulls me into a hug and kisses me on the head. He’s not as tall as Drake, but he has a few inches on me. We don’t speak. He merely holds me tight, as if he’s afraid something will happen to me.
After a few hours of hanging out in the waiting room, the doctor finally allows us to see Shaun. He’s lying in a hospital bed, his eyes lidded from the anesthesia. My mom comes up to his side and slips her fingers between his. Shaun’s eyes fully open a few seconds later. He blinks a few times and then smiles up at my mom.
I sit at the edge of his bed. “I can’t believe you shot off your toe.”
He forces a smile. “I don’t know what happened. I was adjusting the rifle, and the next thing I knew, I lost my footing and… well, you know what happened next.”
“It’s a freak accident,” Mom says.
Dad grunts, shoving his hands into his pockets. I can tell what he’s thinking without him speaking. He’s disappointed in Shaun. My dad is tough, and if you’re not as strong as him, he considers it a weakness. That’s why I’ve always pushed people away. The second I sniffed out what he would’ve considered a weakness, I walked away from that person.
Oh, shit. I forgot my cell phone on the table in the kitchen. Drake won’t admit it, but I know he gets worried when he doesn’t hear from me. I usually text him back right away, but it’s been hours since he asked if I could talk.
“What’s for dinner?” my brother asks with laughter in his tone.
My dad shakes his head, his expression devoid of emotion.
“We can eat in the cafeteria,” I offer. “It will be like old times at the chow hall.”
They’re serving turkey dinner in the cafeteria. No matter the circumstances, my family always makes it work.
Dad flashes a genuine smile for once.
After we eat dinner in Shaun’s hospital room, we stay until visiting hours are over. The doctor wants to keep him overnight for observation.
When we arrive back at the rental, I go straight for the kitchen. Drake’s texted me at least a dozen times. So, I send him a quick text.
Taylor: Sorry, spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. I’m okay. I’ll explain later. I hope your holiday was better than mine.
Drake calls me within seconds of receiving the message. He settles down once I tell him the story. I rest my head on a stack of pillows as we rehash the details of our days. I’m so exhausted, yet comfortable with Drake, that after ten minutes, I end up falling asleep with him still on the line.
Jackie elbows me in the side, knocking me off balance. My sneakers slide along the court, and I almost lose possession of the ball because of it. We’re on the same damn scrimmage team. What the fuck is she doing?
Giving Jackie a wicked look, I pass the ball back to Bex. She’s the top shooting guard in the league, with far better ball handling skills than anyone on our team. I don’t know why Jackie’s been pushing me around since we got back from the break. This isn’t the first time she’s elbowed me on purpose and then flashed a cocky smirk in response to my anger.