Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Now a #1 bestseller in Medical Romance!
I have a stalker.
A masked man who watches me from the shadows. A guardian who says he’s there to protect me—to help me heal from almost dying at the hands of another man.
He says he’s willing to do anything to help me move on. That I needn’t be afraid of him.
I agree to keep him my secret and share how much I’m truly struggling.
In return, he guards me. Even if it means guarding me from himself.
I’ve known her my entire life.
She’s the girl next door who I share a childhood betrothal with thanks to our two grandmothers wishing to turn their lifelong friendship into family.
I’m also the doctor who tended to her in the ER after her ex tried to kill her. I want to help her in any way I can, but I also know she’ll never accept my help because I’m the reason he tried to kill her in the first place.
But I can’t stand by and see her suffer, so…I come up with a plan.
A highly illegal plan that ends with me breaking laws, rules, and my own heart...
Doctor/girl next door, childhood friends to lovers, green-flag stalker, hidden identity, lots of texts, masked protector, would do anything to keep her safe, standalone, he has a motorcycle, he does things to her in the dark.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
* 1 *
Sailor
Hospitals and Ghosts
I SHOULD SEE WHITE LIGHTS AND PEARLY gates, right?
So why can I only see him?
Milton’s face burned a permanent nightmare on my eyesight, thanks to him strangling me to death on the rug I’d bought in honour of my nana’s birthday. She would’ve been ninety-nine. We’d often joked that she’d make it to two hundred—
Until time decided it could stop, just like that.
Just like it almost ended for me.
Or rather, had ended for me.
Yet here I was, being wheeled at dizzying speed beneath row after row of fluorescent lights, strangers looking down at me with worried frowns, hands touching me with professional inspections.
Everything was a blur as doors banged wide, and the rush made my head swim. I closed my eyes again, but Milton was there, looming and sneering. His hands like iron shackles around my throat, his thumbs digging so painfully.
“Think he’s better than me, huh? I’ll show you—”
Blocking the memory of his voice, I tried to swallow, but fire-gushing agony looped around my neck.
Time skipped again.
I was grateful for the blips as I suddenly came to on a different bed with different people staring down at me.
Everything hurt.
Every finger and toe.
Every bone and limb.
Tears stung my bruised eyes.
Fear throttled me just like Milton had.
How was I here?
Had he stopped and called for help?
Was he here too? Playing the role of caring boyfriend all while waiting for yet another excuse to kill me?
A wash of full-body terror drenched me at the thought of him still in my house. The house my nana had left me. Prowling through the rooms where I’d always found happiness, contaminating every nook and cranny with his violence.
God, how could I have been so stupid?
How could I let him taint my most favourite place in the world?
A nurse poked me with a needle. Another nurse pressed a few buttons on a machine by my head. They looked at each other before glancing at me with a pitying smile. “You’ll be okay. You’re safe now, alright? He can’t get you here.”
I wanted to cry.
I might be safe in this chaotic place with doctors and patients and beeping, annoying monitors, but what about my home? How could I ever go back there? How could I ever be in the same room as him again?
The kind nurse with bright coral lips gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Relax now. We’ve got you.”
A fuzzy cloud crept over my mind.
I tried to fight it.
But sleep pulled me under, and the last thing I saw was the ghost of my nana standing at the foot of my bed. Her thick white hair curled perfectly around her chin, the usual pink peony in the top button of her housedress, and a wonderful smile on her gorgeous, wizened face. “Rest, Little Lor. Everything will work out in the end…you’ll see.”
I slipped into darkness.
* * * * *
“Did the scans show any internal bleeding?” A masculine voice that sounded familiar wriggled through my gluey thoughts.
“No, Dr North. She was lucky.”
“Lucky? You call attempted murder lucky?”
“Oh no! Of course not. I just meant…she’ll recover. It’ll take time, but she’ll heal.”
“Give me a rundown.”
“Of course, Dr North. She’s suffered contusions to large areas of her arms and legs, has a hematoma on her hip, multiple abrasions, and a few bruised ribs. Dr Yang did a thorough investigation of her neck and spine, and there doesn’t appear to be any skeletal damage. However, he did recommend she doesn’t try to speak for up to a week while her larynx heals.”