Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Hey.” It was Ian, and I took my first breath. “Your husband is yelling at the CPD brass at the moment, sir, or he would be on the phone with you. The crowd was supposed to be further back, and there were supposed to be more officers on the steps to make sure no one got close enough to, yanno, shoot somebody.”
“So he’s yelling.”
“It’s louder than yelling, but yessir.”
That was great news. Louder than yelling was excellent.
“Becker is on site as well, so as soon as your husband stops being angry, Eli and I are gonna take him to the hospital to get checked out. I’ll make sure he calls you when we’re in the car on the way.”
“Thank you,” I barely got out.
“Yessir,” he said and hung up.
I collapsed onto the couch, and Hannah fell down next to me, arms around me tight. Kola took the other side, and Jake wedged in next to Hannah. We didn’t all have to be basically on top of one another, but it was comforting. Eventually I made the kids get up and eat, and Hannah called Aaron and said that basically she had to be there when her father got home. So there was a chance that she would do the hosting that evening, and there was a chance she would not. She had to see him with her own eyes; it wasn’t possible not to.
“I’m sorry to be a flake and––” She stopped talking and listened for a moment. “You promise you won’t think that?” There was more listening, and she started to cry, and then she was nodding and I took the phone.
“Love, you don’t have to––”
“It’s me,” I said, and smiled into the phone.
“I was just telling your daughter that she did an event for me, that I was out of town for, I might add, with a hundred-and-four-degree fever. She also did one with pneumonia, wearing a mask so no one could tell she was ready to pass out, and enough Zoom calls during the pandemic to last the rest of her life. I would never call her a flake.”
“I’m sure she appreciates that.”
“I told her as soon as Duncan called and gave me the news, I planned on doing it myself. And making Max help me.”
“What are brothers for?”
“Right? And besides, I’m lending him and Astrid the Lake Como house for the holidays, since she has so much family on her side.”
I scoffed, feeling better, knowing that he had changed his plans so Hannah could be home when her father walked through the door.
“What was with that?”
“You gave Max and Astrid the house in Italy so her relatives wouldn’t be at your house for the holidays.”
“That’s insane. I would never do that.”
“Stop. I expect you around one on Christmas,” I said, telling him what I needed, “and I want that good champagne you brought last time and those pies from the bakery that you have to make an appointment to get in.”
“You have never been in that bakery in your life,” he assured me, all snooty.
“That’s because I don’t have the right shoes or the correct watch,” I said snidely.
“But you’re not too good to eat their food.”
“Well, no. I’ve never had custard so light and fluffy. I didn’t know it was supposed to taste like that. And Sam loves the stroopwafels, so––”
“I’ll bring a box.”
I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
When I handed Hannah the phone back, she told Aaron how much she loved him and then listened a bit. I would have stayed there, but my phone rang.
Walking into the kitchen where Kola was, I answered.
“Just giving you an update.” Eli again. “But your husband is still bellowing at the CPD brass, so I made the EMTs take a look at him. The round was a forty caliber that entered the vest and was stopped and trapped in the vest. The EMTs both agreed that while his chest, because that’s where it hit him, will feel like he was hit with a baseball bat, there is no other injury to him. He didn’t even hurt his suit in the takedown.”
“Okay.”
“But the shirt is a goner.”
“Understood,” I said, my voice shaky for a moment thinking about that.
“The EMTs have ruled that nothing at all affected his brain because, you know, he’s yelling in very long, cohesive, detailed sentences.”
“Got it.”
“This is all to say that––”
“He’s not going to the hospital.”
“That’s correct.”
I took a breath.
“That is not to say that Ian didn’t write him a note and ask him if he wanted to be divorced, so he’s probably going to call—oh, bye,” he said just as a call from Sam lit up my phone.
“Hello?” I said softly, so happy, shivering with relief.
“Fucking Doyle,” Sam growled on the other end. “Don’t be mad, I’m fine. It’s a clusterfuck over here, and as soon as I’m––”