"Does it feel good knowing I'd kill for you, Jamilyn?"
***
Upon the passing of her grandfather, Jamilyn Caswell, moves back to Forks, Washington to aid her grandmother. What she didn't expect was to h...
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"Only a monster can deal with another monster."
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I raced through the hospital halls in hopes that every other room held him in it, but no luck.
Coming to a screeching halt at a desk area, I patiently wait for the woman to finish her call. Like the typical receptionist, she held a pale smile, her brown eyes glistening with tiredness, and her brown skin flattened under the fluorescent lighting. "How may I help you today, ma'am?"
I gulp, pulling my cardigan tighter as I catch my breath. "I'm looking for a man named Creed Anderson. He should've gotten here about a half hour ago."
There were only so many hospitals in forks, and the closest one was an hour away from my house. I bite my thumbnail in anticipation as the receptionist holds up a finger before typing something on her computer. My eyes crossed the area as a million thoughts rushed through my head, the tapping of her nails making my heart spike.
"Ma'am?" Her voice pulls me back.
"I'm sorry," I say abruptly.
She shakes her head, saying it's alright. "He doesn't have a designated room yet because he's currently in surgery. The file only shows he was in a car accident. He probably won't be out for another hour or more."
A twitching pain invades my chest for a millisecond as I nod respectfully and back myself into a waiting chair. I open my phone and shoot a text to Ryan, explaining what happened. Ozzie will be worried sick.
"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?"
I freeze in my seat, the case of my phone digging into my palm. Abby Sutton didn't have a life outside of tormenting people. "What do you want, Abby?"
I could hear the fake pout upon her lips. "No need for the icy tone, sweetheart. A little birdie informed me of Creed's accident, and I wanted to ensure he was still alive."
I peek over my shoulder to see her looking down at a magazine, mindlessly flipping through the pages. Her shoulder suddenly brushed mine, and I focused my gaze on the wall. "He's in surgery," I mutter.
She shifts closer, her touch causing me to lock in place. "Aww, don't be so down, Jamilyn. Creeds a strong man and can handle a few broken bones."
Her words did little to satisfy me, but I couldn't help but notice the tone of her words. "This isn't new, is it?"
Abby chuckles; the weird rubbery sound of the pages being swept ticked my brain. "Creed's parents weren't the best, not physically abusive but neglectful. Every time I saw him, he always had bruises due to anemia."
But he couldn't feel any of it...
My brows furrow with enlightenment. Creed rarely has bruises besides one from working out in the yard. Never would I have thought that someone like Creed was or is anemic. "Why are you telling me this?"
