Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Two,” he explained. “I wasn’t going to put in any, but I know your father has to return to work on Monday.”
“So if he did something where he could sit all day, you’d just let it close by itself?”
“I would, yes.”
Kola nodded, listening intently. “Was the bullet not in there very deep?”
I moved closer, watching Kola lift to his feet to observe Dr. Cooper up close, one hand on the small of Sam’s back, the other holding on to the side of the bed. Hannah was still clutching Sam’s hand and stroking his hair.
“The bullet was slowed by your father’s jacket,” he explained to Kola, “as well as his shirt, and most importantly, by his gun holster. Once it broke the skin, it was further slowed by the muscles in his back.”
“Where?”
Dr. Cooper pointed.
“That’s the rhomboid major, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Very good.”
“And so it hit that, and then what?”
“It looks like it deflected and then became embedded in his skin,” he said, showing Kola where he’d pulled the bullet from. “So I didn’t have to dig deep for it, it was right here on the surface.”
Kola nodded. “So you’re just loading him up with antibiotics and some pain meds, putting in the stitches and covering it with gauze, and then you’ll have him come back to have them pulled out?”
“That’s the plan, but I suspect your father, like most law enforcement types I know, will simply remove the stitches himself at home.”
“Is that safe?”
“It’s not recommended, but since my nephew did it after a friend of his watched a YouTube video—I suspect you might be the one to pull them.”
Kola nodded sagely.
“Are you thinking of becoming a doctor?”
“Yes, I am,” he told Dr. Cooper, and as this was not the first I was hearing of his interest in pursuing medicine, I stayed quiet. It was nice of the man to talk to Kola and explain things. A lot of people wouldn’t have taken the time.
“Well, make sure you take good care of your father, all right?”
“I will.”
“Do you want to watch me put in the stitches?”
Instead of answering, Kola stepped in closer.
“Pa,” Hannah called me.
Moving around her chair, I knelt down beside her. “What’s wrong, B?”
She tipped her head at Sam, and I saw that his eyes were closed.
“It’s the painkillers, sweetie, he’s fine.”
Sam’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Hannah. “The doc numbed the area before he dug the bullet out. I only felt the pressure.”
“Okay,” she said softly, her voice shaking as she lifted her eyes not to the doctor, but the nurse. “He’s going to be fine, right?”
“Yes, honey, he’ll be fine,” Nurse Brenner told her.
“I’m Hannah.”
“Arlene,” Nurse Brenner replied, smiling at my daughter.
Hannah then turned to Dr. Cooper. “You’re sure you got the whole bullet out?”
“Yeah, look,” Kola said, moving the metal pan that the bullet was in so she could see it.
“Oh, that’s tiny,” she said, brightening, seeing the size of it making her feel better. Her father was a big man, after all. The little piece of metal couldn’t possibly kill him.
“Yeah, but you can die from being shot with a twenty-two,” Kola informed her.
And instantly her face fell, then scrunched up and there were fresh tears.
“Nice,” I said sarcastically.
“But Dad was super lucky,” Kola continued, not missing a beat, making his voice soothing at the same time he darted over to the counter by the sink, grabbed the small box of tissues there, and returned. He pulled two and held them over her nose like he’d done when he was six and she was four. All his life he’d taken care of her.
She blew, noisily, not a demure bone in her whole body, and then he repeated the process with a fresh set, before passing her the box to return to overseeing his father’s procedure.
“Dad was lucky?” she asked, sniffling.
“Yeah—I mean yes, because it didn’t go in very deep. With small-caliber bullets you worry about them bouncing around inside, but this one barely went in.”
She nodded quickly, as always, taking her brother’s words as gospel.
“I was the lucky one,” I said hoarsely, carding my fingers through Sam’s thick hair, tracing his right eyebrow with my thumb. “I would have been shot if your father hadn’t put himself between me and the gun.”
“Thank goodness,” Hannah breathed. “If you got shot with that bullet, you might have been killed. You’re way smaller than Dad.”
Kola grunted his agreement.
“Can we keep the bullet?” Hannah wanted to know.
“No, it’s evidence,” Kola told her. “They need it for a ballistics match so the guy who shot Dad will go to jail.”
“Oh yeah, that’s good. Give the bullet to the police.”
“It actually goes to the FBI,” Sam corrected her, yawning tiredly.
“That’s even better,” Kola agreed, pinning Dr. Cooper with his dark blue gaze. “You’ll make sure that happens?”
“Actually, someone will be by to collect it. I just have to bag it up for them.”