Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Sparkles whined, bringing my attention back to her. “Sparkles, if you weren’t already spoken for, I’d keep you with me.” She licked at my hand before jumping out of my lap and going back to Blossom to sit at her feet. I smiled. “Well, she might be a great therapy dog, but she is firmly yours.”
Blossom smiled at Sparkles. “She is. But she’ll stay with you if you need her to.”
“No. I think I’m fine. You can sit down and eat with me if you want.” I looked at all the food. There were hamburgers, hotdogs, baked beans, coleslaw, and all kinds of fruit and vegetables to eat with dressing. Then there was sweet tea, milk, beer, and water and electrolyte drink packs for the bottled water. “Wow. I hope you didn’t expect me to eat all this.”
Blossom grinned. “I expect you to eat what you want. If there are leftovers, I’m sure someone around here will eat them. They always scavenge. Anything not already growing penicillin is fair game.” She wrinkled her nose. “Kinda gross, actually.”
That got us all to giggling. I felt lighter, but still not entirely comfortable. And I didn’t really know what to do to make it better.
“Everything all right in there?”
Blossom and Iris grinned at each other. Iris answered before I could say anything. “I don’t think Dorothy’s feeling well.”
There was a brief pause, then the doorknob jiggled. “Open up.”
“Is that Morgue?”
Iris winked at me. “Sure is. Now, don’t you worry, honey. Just sit back and let things happen.”
Blossom nodded. “It’s the easiest way.”
“Let what happen?”
“I’m coming in.” Morgue’s voice was harsh, angry sounding. I had the chance to suck in a breath when the lock on the knob snapped and Morgue charged inside. “What happened?” His gaze found me the second he was in the room. “How’d you hurt yourself?”
Blossom stood. “Will you be OK with Morgue?”
I blinked up at her, not sure what to think or feel. “I think so? Maybe?”
“Of course, she’ll be OK with me,” Morgue snapped. His focus turned to me and he looked me up and down. “What’s wrong? What hurts?”
“What?” Was this really happening right now?
“She said you’re not feeling well. What’s wrong?” There was no doubt his questions were actually demands. His eyes were wide, and he shoved a hand through his hair. “Well?”
“I, uh, well, I think I might be having some withdrawals?” I looked up at the women who were waiting to make sure I was good with them leaving me with Morgue. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Iris, get Stitches. Tell him Dorothy needs stuff.”
“Stuff,” Iris said, covering a grin by clearing her throat. “Got it.”
Blossom gave a little finger wave. “You kids have fun.” Then she and Iris left. Sparkle gave me a “wuff” and licked my ankle again before moving in the direction of the door. She paused and looked at Morgue on her way, baring her teeth and growling once before continuing after Blossom.
“Well,” I said, not sure what was supposed to happen next. “That was… interesting.”
“Sit down,” Morgue bossed. “Where does it hurt?”
“I think I’m fine. But my stomach hurts. Just kind of, I don’t know, cramps. Little nauseous.”
“You’re trembling.” He knelt in front of me where I sat, taking my hands in his. “You’re sweating, too.” Morgue got me a bottle of water and opened it for me. “Drink this.”
“You’re kind of bossy.”
Morgue just grunted. He took out his phone and sent off a text before focusing back on me. “How long have you been feeling like this?”
“Since I woke up. I get dizzy sometimes, but I figured it was the drugs still in my system.”
“Probably.” He stared at his phone, frowning. “Fuckin’ bastard. Answer my fuckin’ text.” He tapped at his phone again, looking up at me occasionally, like it was important for him to keep an eye on me. He swore again as he looked at the screen. Then he punched something else before putting the phone to his ear. Making a call. “Where the fuck are you, Stitches?” I heard the other man speaking from the phone, but Morgue cut him off. “Never mind. Get to my room. Now. Dorothy’s sick.”
“Quit your bitchin’, you big bastard.” Stitches entered the room, rolling his eyes as he moved to my side, crouching down and placing a duffel bag on the floor. “I can’t teleport from the common room.”
“You were taking too long.”
“It took me less than two minutes.”
Morgue shrugged. “Felt longer.”
Stitches pulled out a bag of fluids and a bunch of other things. “You realize you’re going into withdrawal. Right? Do you know how long you were there?”
“Uh, not really. What day is it?”
“The twenty-third.”
I blinked. “Wow. I thought it was longer than that. Way longer. We got there on the fifteenth.” I tried to grin, playing it off like a bad joke. “Worst Spring Break ever.”