Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I put my hands on my hips. “That sounds”—I look around—“like it’s a lot of work.” He laughs at me. “I hope this wasn’t a ploy to get us out here to build it for you.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “But—”
“No.” I hold up my hand. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, fine,” he gives in. “Then let me show you what I want done.” He takes off his gloves and puts them to the side. “It’s over there.” He motions to the detached garage off to the left. “I had this built when I had the whole house gutted. But I was just going to use it as a big shed.” Opening the door, I see that the only thing they have is plywood on the wall, and the base is concrete. “Asa is going to be staying with me this summer. I’m going to need to hire a nanny, and well, I don’t know if it will be a live-in position or what, but either way, I thought it would be better if they had their own space.”
I’m about to say something when his phone rings from his back pocket, and he pulls it out. “Sorry, I’m on call . . .” he mumbles and puts the phone to his ear. “Burke.” He listens, then he’s running. “On it.” He puts the phone in his pocket without stopping. “Got to go. Shots fired at Sierra’s house.”
CHAPTER TWO
THEO
“Sierra,” I repeat the name, just in case I somehow misunderstood it. Surely there has to be a mistake. It has to be a different Sierra.
“Call Caleb!” he says, jumping into the driver’s side. My feet stick to the ground as if they were poured into cement.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘Shots fired at Sierra’s house’?” I shout to him, but he peels away from the curb, his lights already flashing.
By the time I pull my phone out of my back pocket, my feet have finally picked up that it’s time to move because I’m running to my truck. I dial Caleb. “Come on—answer, answer, answer,” I urge as it rings four times before going to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Caleb Walker from CW Construction. Please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you.” I disconnect and call him again, with the same results.
“Motherfucker,” I swear. I barely keep to the speed limit as I drive to Sierra’s house, thinking this must be a terrible mistake.
About five cop cars block off her street. Two ambulances race by me, sirens blaring and lights flashing. I pull over to the side and grab my phone. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I run toward her house.
“Hey!” an officer on the side yells to me, “you can’t go in there.”
“That’s my cousin’s house.” I put both my hands on top of my head, seeing people rushing in, but no one coming out. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure,” he replies, trying not to answer me.
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” My voice rises. “I was with Officer Burke when he got the call.” I don’t know if it’s a good thing to name-drop or say that I know because of him, but I couldn’t care less.
“Reports are that shots were fired,” he says as a commotion comes from the house. “One victim, maybe two, it’s still unclear.”
“One victim or more,” I repeat his words, and I don’t even care. I take off running as the gurney comes out of the house. It’s a woman I’ve never met, and Carl, the wood guy, is beside it.
I’m still making my way through the people who are standing around on the neighbor’s lawn—waiting, I guess, no fucking clue—when I see Caleb come out of the house, no shirt on, blood streaked down the front of his chest. He’s running next to a second gurney. I stop for a second, put my hands on my knees, and let out the biggest sigh of relief. I feel like I am going to throw up everywhere. I pull myself together and run toward him. “Holy shit, Caleb,” I shout to him. “What happened?”
Everyone is suddenly hustling around me. It’s Sierra on the gurney. I look up and—I’m frozen. A woman I never thought I would see again, holding on to the top of the gurney as she runs to the ambulance.
“Oh my god, it’s you,” she says, her face filled with the same shock I feel as I meet her gray eyes. Her blonde hair is pulled back and piled into a high ponytail, then braided. She’s wearing a paramedic uniform with blue surgical gloves on.
“You,” I whisper. I shake my head, trying to get my bearings and figure out what the fuck is going on.
“She’s been shot. Meet me at the hospital.” Caleb is shouting, his voice filled with panic. I refocus on him. His eyes look like he’s about to kill someone. “Get me a shirt. Call Lilah,” he instructs as he runs, not leaving Sierra’s side. “We have to call Sierra’s parents. My phone is somewhere inside.” He motions with his chin toward the house, where two more uniformed officers run up the steps. Caleb gets into the back of the ambulance. “Meet me at the hospital,” he repeats, right before the male paramedic shuts the door and rushes to the driver’s seat. He blows his siren once to tell the people in front of him that he’s leaving before he speeds away from the house.