Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Jewell held on to his arm when he seemed about to fall. “You can’t drive back like this. I’m not going to use my hotel room tonight. You can have it. I’m going to stay with my mom, anyway. I don’t want to miss the chance to speak to her doctor in the morning. I’ll drive you there. After I talk to him, I’ll come wake you and bring you to get your truck.”
“Might need to take you up on that.” Greer sank back onto the bench.
“Wait here. I’ll go get my car.”
“I can walk. Just need a second.”
“It’s at the back of the parking lot.”
Greer lifted his head to stare at the football-sized lot. “I’ll wait here.”
She hurried away before he could get his second wind. Bringing the car around to stop beside the bench, Jewell got out to find he had fallen sleep.
“Greer …” She reached out to shake him awake, but he lifted his lashes before she could.
“You going to get your car any day now?”
Not taking offense to his grumpy tone, Jewell tried to help him to his feet. “It’s right behind you.”
“Don’t need any help. I can make it on my own steam.” Getting up, Greer slowly walked to the passenger side of the car. Jewell quickly opened the door for him.
Back in the car, after he was settled inside, she turned the heat up when he asked her to.
“Do you want me to go through a drive-thru to get your something to eat?”
“Chicken place over there looks good.”
Putting her blinker on, Jewell drove over.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“You paying?”
“I can.” She nodded, leaning back so Greer could get a better look at the menu.
“I’ll take a bucket of chicken—no fucking thighs or wings. There ain’t enough meat on those bones to worry about. Two large sides of potatoes with gravy. Ten regular biscuits—make sure they put honey in the bag—and four of those blueberry pies. Two large lemonades.”
“I’m not hungry,” Jewell stated, thinking he had ordered the massive meal to share.
“Good. I didn’t order any extra for you.”
Biting her tongue as she drove to the hotel, she found a parking spot not far from her room.
For a man who seemed to be at death’s door before he had gotten in the car, he had no problem getting out of the car while holding the two drinks in his hand. Gathering the three bags of food he had ordered, Jewell carried them to the room. Greer reluctantly took one of the smaller bags so she could open the door for him.
Inside, she set the food down on the table.
“I need to get back to the hospital,” she told him as he sat at the small table beside the bed. “I don’t want to leave my mom alone.”
Opening the bucket, Greer took out a drumstick. “The Porter scale is even again.” Greer stared at the drumstick without taking a bite. “Your scale is still uneven, though.”
Jewell could only stare at him in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“Just what I said. Don’t forget to come wake me up in the morning.”
Deciding she was never going to understand Greer, she left him with his bucket of chicken to return to the hospital.
Moving the chair closer to her mom’s bed, she took the hand closest to her, careful not to wake her. Sporadically, her mother awoke, and they would reminisce about her childhood and her brothers. Gradually, Jewell started talking about Michael, too, and what he was like. When her mother would nod off, Jewell just continued to sit, holding her mother’s hand.
“Do you hate me?” A whisper-thin voice came out of her mother when Jewell believed she was asleep.
“I never hated you, Mom. I understood. I loved Dad, too.”
“I made too many excuses for him while he refused to listen to anyone else’s.”
“We all did, Mom.”
“Don’t ever lose yourself when you love a man, Tory.”
Jewell was glad her mother couldn’t see the sheen of tears coursing down her cheeks. She had lost herself when she had fallen in love with Reaper, clinging to the illusion of loving him to survive the pain of losing Michael and her brothers. Rory had shown her the difference between illusion and reality.
“I won’t,” she promised.
Satisfied, her mother fell back asleep.
Jewell sat beside her throughout the long night, listening to the beeps of the machines coupled with her breathing. She didn’t let her hand go even when her breathing became shallow and she had to call for the nurse. Jewell held on to her mother’s hand, standing by her side as she took her last breath.
As dawn broke outside the window, Jewell came to understand the full meaning of the scales that Greer had been talking about. When she had saved Ema, she had stolen a soul meant to be taken. Her mother’s death evened the scales.