Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I hung up in time to see a nurse cutting open the sleeve of Avery’s vampire costume to reveal a long, thin slice that started at her collarbone and extended down her arm. Most of it had stopped bleeding. I didn’t like the way Avery lay there, passive and pale. Shock? Disorientation from hitting her head? I wasn’t a doctor. I only knew that this wasn’t Avery.
“It’s better than it looks,” the nurse said. “A few deeper spots here and there, but it should heal up just fine.” She looked up at me. “She passed out?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Not long after I found them. Her brother said she hit her head on the barn pretty hard when she fell.”
“How does your head feel, honey?” the nurse asked.
Avery lifted her hand towards her forehead and slid it back to graze a spot above her ear. “It hurts the worst right here. When he jumped us, I slammed into the wall.”
The nurse took a closer look and turned worried eyes to me, then made a note on her chart. “We’ll take a look at that,” she said. “You might have a concussion.”
“I don’t want a concussion,” Avery said, startling a laugh out of the nurse.
“Well, you don’t always get what you want, honey. But at least we can find out what you’re dealing with. I’m going to get this cut cleaned up, then see about taking a closer look at your head.” She stood. “I’ll be right back.” The nurse stepped out of the room, I guessed to make arrangements to get Avery an MRI or a CAT scan or whatever they’d use to check out that hard skull of hers.
“You still with us?” I asked. Avery wasn’t back to herself, but her eyes looked clearer than they had a few minutes before.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She let out a long sigh. “Everything hurts. My arm. My head. It’s annoying. Is Ford okay?”
“He’s probably going to need a few stitches, but otherwise, I think he’s in better shape than you are. Do you know who attacked you?”
Avery started to shake her head and stopped as a wave of pain hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she kept her head very still as she said, “No. It was dark, and it happened so fast. I saw his eyes, but that was it. It wasn’t anybody I knew, not that I could tell. And then some kids ran by and he disappeared.”
She sat back into the bed, settling her head into the pillow. Her eyes drifted closed, but there was nothing restful about her. After a minute, she said, “He was trying to stab Ford. He knocked us down, and I fell into the barn, then onto Ford, but he was there with the knife, pushing me out of the way, I think, trying to get a better angle on Ford.” She opened her eyes, her dark gaze locking onto mine.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “You said it happened fast. How do you know he was after Ford and not you? He could have been trying to get you into a better position, not Ford.”
Avery opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, she asked, “Why would they be after me?”
I shook my head as the nurse came back in, a plastic bin filled with supplies in her hands. “I’ve got your scan ordered,” she said cheerily. “While we’re waiting, let’s get you cleaned up.” She looked at me. “You staying?”
I sat on Avery’s good side, taking her hand. “I’m staying,” I said, unable to explain why I wasn’t going anywhere.
I couldn’t get it out of my head. The hint of cleavage I’d admired was stained red to match her lips. She’d been so vibrantly gorgeous, so alive, and a knife had split her skin while I’d been only feet away. It was too close. Until I saw all that blood, I’d never considered what I might lose if something happened to her.
I wasn’t leaving until I was sure she was all right. I’d work out the why of it later.
The nurse wiped at the dried blood on her skin, and Avery winced, her face going a little pale. I wasn’t sure if it was at the sight of her own blood or the pain from the nurse cleaning her up. Either way, I said, “Hey, don’t watch. Look at me.” Obedient, for possibly the first time in her life, she rolled her head to the side and met my eyes.
“This was not how the rest of my night was supposed to go,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “You were kicking ass. I think you doubled the crowd size from last year.”
She smiled. “People looked like they were having fun. The music was good, I heard the food was great, everyone loved the beer.”
Her pride was evident, and I grinned back.