Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
And then I understand what occurred to him. “Wait.” I hold up my hands. “Luca. You don’t think that I—”
He looks away, pulling the blanket protectively up over his chest.
“Luca, I didn’t run you over so I could bring you back to life!”
“That much is true at least,” Annie says. “Someone hit you. I guess it could have been intentional, but like Emery said, it was dark, and you were crossing the street. My guess is whoever it was freaked out and fled. And listen, while I have some serious reservations”—she slides her gaze in my direction—“I agree that if Emery hadn’t initiated the reanimation protocol, you would have died. Or… stayed dead.”
Luca nods, no longer looking at us, and Annie and I exchange a worried look. She tilts her head, silently telling me to give him a second to process it all. We walk toward the freezer bank, out of view of where he’s sitting, unmoving, on the BioVIVE platform.
“Girl,” Annie says, “we need to get him home ASAP. Robert Pattinson has probably logged his vitals and it’s already in the system.”
“Great idea,” I say, motioning to the other side of the room. “I mean, clearly Luca’s dying to leave with me.”
Annie barks out a laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she says through her fingers.
“Don’t be,” I say, groaning. “I heard it, too. Not my best phrasing.”
“Let’s get him dressed—”
“In what, exactly? His blood-soaked clothes?”
“I need you to calm down. If you’re freaking out, Luca will freak out. We can put him in scrubs, dumbass, we have an entire closet full of them.”
“Yeah, I’ll just drive him along the street that’s probably still covered in a giant pool of his own blood. I’m sure he won’t notice.” At her raised brow I pause for a beat, pulling in a calming breath before continuing in a whisper. “Seriously, it looks like a crime scene. And if someone sees it when the sun comes up, they’ll realize it is a crime scene and probably call the police. If they haven’t already.”
“Now you think of the consequences?” Shaking her head, she digs in her pocket for her phone while mumbling about pouring stupid gasoline on crazy fire. “Just relax. I’ll get someone to come clean it up.”
I look at my watch. “Annie, it’s 1:18 a.m.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know a guy.”
“You know a guy.”
She continues to type, not glancing up from the screen. “Yes. He was my neighbor growing up. Single guy, kind of odd. My mom brought over food to him all the time. He loves me and has a little cleaning business, if you get my drift. He’ll take care of everything, including your car.”
Frowning, I lean in. “There are people who do that?”
She turns the phone toward me. “This is the intersection, right?”
I check the cross streets and confirm, watching as she finishes the text, presses send, and gets an immediate response.
“How did I never know you have a fixer?” I ask, in awe.
“You’ve never done something this stupid that required one.” She types out something else before pocketing her phone. “At least that’s taken care of. He’ll also drop off some medical equipment and supplies at your place. Just don’t ask where any of it came from.”
I nod vaguely, unsure why I’m surprised that texting someone to clean up an unreported crime scene is as simple as ordering a pizza. “This feels so… shady.”
“Well, deal with it, Em, because me knowing someone who can clean up a crime scene and deliver equipment at 1:18 a.m. is the least shady thing about tonight.”
“Fair. Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”
“You can figure out an impossible way to thank me later.” She sets her hands on my shoulders. “You ready?”
I nod. “No. Yes. I mean no.” Taking a deep breath, I say firmly, “Yes.”
She looks equally unconvinced. “Really? You’re ready to go home with a husband who has a freshly sealed fatal femoral artery wound, who doesn’t remember you and thinks you mowed him down in the street to test your fancy new technology?”
I bite back a sob. “Is this really my life?”
“Ask yourself that when the sun comes up,” Annie says, turning to walk back to Luca. “I need to get the fuck out of here and have a drink.”
11 EMERY
The plan is to move quickly and get Luca home under the cover of darkness. He’s not exactly steady on his feet, so he’ll have to leave the way he came in: on the gurney. He begrudgingly agrees; it’s being covered by a sheet like a corpse that takes a bit more convincing. In truth, we’re lucky he agrees to anything. He could just start screaming. He could find a phone and call the police. He’d be taken to a hospital, I’d be taken to jail, and he’d never have to see me again. Well, except when he’d be called to testify at my eventual trial.