Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Funny enough, she had Odin on her street, as well as a couple of guys from the motorcycle club.
And I’d heard Odin complain more than once about how awful one of his neighbors was.
“Well after today, I can really see how awful they are, too,” I admitted. “The doc told me that I can get your prescriptions tomorrow for you. I’ll get those in the morning before I head to work and drop them off at your place.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“Can you put your number in my phone?” I asked. “So I can check on you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have a cell phone. At least not one that’s hooked up to a cellular network or has the ability to connect to Wi-Fi. The only reason I carry my old one with me is because it has a lot of my old books on it, or for the off chance that I want to take a picture.”
“Landline?” I asked, not bothering to question why she wouldn’t have a cell phone.
“Maybe you can remember it,” she said. “Because I’m trying not to throw up here.”
She then rattled off her phone number, that I then repeated over and over until we hit the Sawtooth city limits.
When I pulled into the driveway of her place, she pushed the door open before I was even in Park.
I grabbed her bag that was on the floorboard still and walked with her up to the house.
I waited until she was fully inside before I set her bag of clothes on the floor right inside the door.
“Thanks,” she said again. “I’m sorry you hit me.”
My lips quirked. “Shouldn’t I be apologizing?”
“No.” She looked away. “Because we both know that it was my fault.”
Before I could argue and say that it really wasn’t either one of our faults, she closed the door and locked it.
I took that as my sign to head out and drove home.
I lived right outside Sawtooth at the base of a mountain.
My view was fucking stunning, and even in the dark, the sight always seemed to impress me.
I headed inside, slamming the door closed behind me.
I set the alarm, then headed to the shower where I took a quick one.
Then I went to bed.
And lay there.
And lay there.
And lay there.
I lay there so long that I eventually decided that I should call Birdee and check on her.
When I dialed her number, she didn’t pick up.
So I dialed it again.
Again, no pick up.
Shit.
I called her one last time, and that was the time that worry started to gnaw at my gut.
What if she was dead?
What if she was having complications?
What if, when I went over there in the morning, she was ice cold because she’d been dead since I dropped her off?
Switching gears, I switched to a different contact.
I hesitated before pressing Odin’s name in my phone, knowing this wasn’t going to be a good conversation.
Odin was ornery, and he wanted to be left alone.
Which was understandable since he’d, very likely, had it the worst of us.
But there were times that we needed him to interact with the world, and this was one of them.
“It’s nearly midnight, fucker,” Odin snarled instead of greeting me.
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I dropped off Romeo’s sister-in-law earlier after picking her up from the hospital. I…”
“After you hit her with your truck.”
I gritted my teeth to keep the words from spilling free, and only continued once I had better control of my temper.
“She isn’t answering my phone calls,” I said. “And she promised that she would. Can you go check on her?”
“No,” he said. “Because I’m not at home. I’m at the club.”
I sighed. “Fuck.”
“But you better go check on her because if you don’t, and she dies, Romeo will never forgive you.”
He wouldn’t.
“Fuck.”
Four
I know everything happens for a reason but…what the fuck?
—Birdee’s secret thoughts
Birdee
I heard the phone, but it was like I couldn’t open my eyes long enough to answer it.
It was probably Cody, trying to do her sisterly duties and make sure that I was alive.
I just couldn’t force myself to move.
I knew I needed to answer it, however. If I didn’t, he’d show up.
And I didn’t want Creed freakin’ Daugherty to show up at my house.
Literally, there could’ve been anyone to hit me today, and I would’ve probably been okay with it. But not him. And I certainly wouldn’t have wanted him to feel obligated to take care of me since he was the one who hit me.
Though, I didn’t know if it counted as him hitting me when I was the one who slid into him.
Fucking asshole neighbors.
If there was ever a reason to live with a homeowner’s association for the neighborhood, this would’ve been it.
From the get-go, they’d been pains in my asses.
When I’d moved in a couple of weeks ago, thankful as fuck that I could find a place within my price range, the Hubers had sat out on their porch and watched as I hauled everything in by myself. They hadn’t offered to help—not that I would’ve ever asked them to seeing as they creeped me out—and had watched me struggle for three solid hours as I unloaded my U-Haul.