Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Meaning, I was stuck.
But working at Dallas Christus wasn’t bad. Or not all bad.
I had great hours, the ER was fully staffed, and I got to see Felix.
Not that we’d talked more than a ‘hey’ or ‘good morning’ or ‘how’s it going’ since we saw each other last.
I’d take anything, though.
I was like an addict getting her fix.
It’d been what felt like thousands of days since he’d hurt me. But, unlike what my sisters told me to do—and that was a very vocal ‘don’t get anywhere near him’—I couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t stop looking at him. Couldn’t even breathe right without seeing him first thing in the morning.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“No,” I murmured. “I’m thinking about my life.”
Crimson’s brows rose. “What about it?”
“It’s like no one in this entire place likes me,” I murmured to Crimson. “I swear, when I walk in the room, every single person in it looks at me, dismisses me, and leaves if they can. If they can’t, then they act like I’m not there.”
“You think it’s Tammy?” Crimson asked.
I knew it was Tammy.
But it was also likely Felix as well.
“Probably,” I grumbled. “Well, more than probably. I know it’s her.”
I knew it was her the moment it happened.
“You should talk to your supervisor.” She eyed my fries. “Are you going to eat all of those?”
I pushed the box toward her.
No. No, I wasn’t.
Mostly because I couldn’t stomach the damn things after the discussion we’d just started.
“I’m not going to talk to my supervisor,” I said as I watched her eat the rest of my chicken nuggets.
I’d stopped at the McDonald’s that was down the block from the hospital and had brought us both lunch up to her room. She’d eaten all of her food and had been eyeing mine so long that I was worried if she was getting fed at all.
Just as I had that thought, Winston walked in with a box of Crumbl Cookies.
“Oh, you are so getting laid tonight.” Crimson groaned around a nugget.
Winston flashed a grin at her, his cheeks getting slightly pink. “If that were possible, honey, I would totally do it.”
“Gross,” I muttered as I sat back in my chair.
Winston winked at me, walked up to Crimson, and dropped a kiss to her forehead.
“Did you have anything for me in there?” I asked, eyes hopeful.
I didn’t pass up a chance for a cookie.
And the box was so big that I knew there were probably more than even Crimson could gorge herself on.
The girl could eat.
I wasn’t quite sure where she got the ability to put away thirty-nine chicken nuggets—we’d split a fifty count—a large order of fries, and a milkshake before sparing room for dessert, but I envied it.
It was rather impressive when I thought about it.
“Actually,” he opened the box and showed me what was inside, “that’s the whole reason I came. Crimson said that you were sad.”
I looked at my sister.
Then at Winston.
Then shrugged. “I’ve been better.”
I’d been way better.
But it was also just one of those things.
My life had never been all that great.
I’d had to compete for even a single ounce of attention when I was younger, and when I finally started getting the attention that I craved, it was the kind that harmed.
My dad was a complete and utter piece of shit.
He exploited my weaknesses and used them to his advantage, manipulating me into doing exactly what he wanted me to do.
And to punish me when I’d gone away to college, he’d refused to pay for my tuition. Then, he’d gone even further, cutting me out of even a measly ounce of income that I was able due with scheduling the shows and coordinating workers and crew, as well as getting permits and other things that were needed to bring a circus to town.
Eventually, I’d cut him off.
I’d been about to tell my sisters and Keene that I was done for good when my ‘father’ had died, leaving stipulations in his will that pretty much forced me back home where I didn’t want to be.
But the hits kept coming after his death, and we experienced one problem after another.
Luckily, a lot of that was behind us now, and the latest—the cleaning up of our circus crew to get rid of any of my dad’s past crew—was fixed. Leaving us with brand-new employees who we could trust, and the knowledge that we all got to do what we wanted, when we wanted.
Hell, I’d just talked to Keene last week and he’d informed me he was interested in going back into the military.
We’d all readily agreed that he should go if he wanted to, and he’d said he had to think about it some more.
Leaving just Zip, Simi, Tony, Crimson, and I working at the circus for any length of time.
But even I was starting to let go somewhat.