Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
But now isn’t the time to think about that. I focus on Amal as she tears open one of the disinfecting cloths and meets my eyes.
“This is going to hurt I think.”
“Oh, I know it is. Do it anyway. It’ll hurt less than an infection.”
She looks at the wound, then back at me, swallows, and sits on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath in, she wipes gently at first, then presses the pad to my skin.
I grit my teeth, biting back a groan of pain, and when she goes to pull her hand away, I capture her wrist to keep it there.
“It’s okay,” I say when she tries to pull back. “Look at me, Amal. Eyes on me.”
She nods and I see what it’s taking for her to hold back her tears. “This is my fault,” she says. “You almost got killed trying to protect me when this is all my fault.”
I grip her chin in my hand, the other still around her wrist. I make her look at me. “I will never let anyone hurt you. That was my vow the day I married you. I plan on keeping it.”
Her eyes search mine. Confusion, fear and exhaustion all mingle in the softest, most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen. I’ve never thought about eyes being windows into the soul. Just thought what a bunch of bull. Now though, looking into her eyes, I get it.
An unfamiliar sensation bubbles up inside my gut, making its way to my chest. That sensation, strange as it is, is about the only thing that doesn’t hurt right now.
“I’m not sure I’m worth it, Jet. If you knew me—”
“You think I don’t know you? You think I haven’t always known you? In here?” I say, letting go of her chin to lay my bloody hand over her heart.
Her eyes widen like she can’t fucking believe what I’m saying when all along, it’s me who is unworthy. When, if she knew the extent of the blood on my hands, the ugliness of my soul, she’d go running. Because she’s my redemption. The one good, clean, guiltless thing in my life. She’s it.
The sound of the suite door opening has me reaching for my gun.
“It’s me,” Malcom calls out as he heads into the bedroom. “How bad?” he asks, coming to take a look, wincing when he sees the damage.
“Amal, go wait in the other room. Malcom can take it from here.”
“No. I’m staying. I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m staying,” she says firmly.
“Suit yourself.” I turn to Malcom. “I’ll holler if we need anything.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Once he leaves and closes the door behind him, I look at Amal. “Okay, let’s get this done,” I say.
She nods.
“Get me the suturing needle. It’s already threaded.”
She does, tearing the packaging away, her face losing a little color when she sees the curved needle.
“Give it to me.”
She looks at me, the pulse at her neck drumming too fast.
“You’re pale,” she says.
“Nowhere near as pale as you. Give it to me.”
She hands it over, her hand shaking.
“Now press here,” I tell her, setting her hands beside the wound, pushing the skin together.
Her eyes grow wide and when I push the needle into my skin, she groans like it’s her own skin.
“You can look away, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
“I thought you were going to die. I thought he was going to kill you.”
“It was amateur hour back there,” I lie, wincing, tugging at skin. The room grows quiet, the only sound that of our breathing and thread moving through skin. “Tell me a story. Distract me.”
“You want a story? Now?” she asks.
I nod, pulling the first stitch tight. I’m going to need just shy of a dozen, but she doesn’t need to know that yet. “Tell me a story about when you were little.”
She nods. “I don’t… Okay, okay. I’ll tell you about the day Daniel was born. We were at the hospital, the three of us. He took twenty-four hours to come. I don’t know how she did it. Even so, she still looked so beautiful. Did you ever see a picture of my mom?”
I shake my head, forcing my lips into a smile. “Do you look like her?”
“Exactly like her.”
“Then I am guessing she was a stunner.”
Amal smiles, blushing, distracted. Good, that’s what I want.
“It was just the three of us. She couldn’t stop looking at him and I sat on the bed with her under the blankets. We were all cuddled up like that, and we just counted Daniel’s fingers and toes and kept smelling the top of his head. Babies smell so good.”
“Yeah, until they shit their diapers or puke all over you.”
She smiles. “Every time he’d open his eyes it was like a magical moment. Just unreal. He was so little.”
“That’s a great story.”