Indivisible (Steel Talons Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Evelyn Glass Page A

time.
     

CHAPTER TWENTY
     
    “Geez, woman, have you slept at all?” Bridgette asked playfully, as she walked into Jim’s house.
     
    Susan simply shook her head where it rested in her hands on the table, her hair stringy from running her fingers through it all night, beside herself with worry. She had a final to take, but she couldn’t even dream of going to class having not heard from Jim. In a voice that sounded distant and far too calm to her own ears, Susan said, “He was supposed to be home eight hours ago.”
     
    Bridgette frowned at her, and Susan could barely see through her swollen eyes, which were burning and probably bloodshot. “Mr. Wade? Wasn’t he headed through the Pass last night? He probably got caught in the storm and pulled over somewhere to wait it out.”
     
    Susan would like to think so, but she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He would have called.”
     
    “There are a lot of spots out there where you lose signal. I think you might be overreacting. Even if he’s not in a place that’s normally dead, the storm could have taken out some of the towers and satellites.”
     
    Susan nodded, but somehow, she didn’t believe it. “I suppose so.”
     
    “How’s your father this morning?” Bridgette asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject, her voice bright and cheerful.
     
    Susan sniffled, crying without tears. Those had dried out hours ago. “He’s good. We read some more of Lonesome Dove. I hope you don’t mind. Plus, he’s sleeping soundly this morning.”
     
    “Of course, I don’t mind. You’re his daughter.” Rather than head to the bedroom, Bridgette sat across from her, reaching out and taking one of Susan’s hands in hers comfortingly. “I’m sure Mr. Wade is fine, Susan. Just give him a couple of hours. I bet you’ll hear from him, and you’ll sleep like a baby after your exam.”
     
    Susan knew she had to go. It was a vital exam and under normal circumstances she’d ace it and bring her grades up significantly. However, if she went now in her state of anxiety and near panic, she would probably fail miserably. Rather than answer Bridgette, she asked, “How did you know his favorite?”
     
    “Whose favorite?” she asked sounding confused.
     
    “My father’s. How did you know that Lonesome Dove was his favorite book?” For some reason, Susan felt she had to know. After all, she would never have guessed, and she didn’t think her mother even realized that her dad liked to read. It was so utterly strange to her that someone they’d met only 48 hours ago would know something like that.
     
    Bridgette smiled congenially. “I have a sense about people. I don’t know if it’s an ability to see auras or just to feel their energy, but things like that happen a lot.” She looked away. “He didn’t tell me it was his favorite, though. I didn’t know that. I just had a sense that he had read it and loved it, and that it would be soothing and healing to him.”
     
    She held up a finger, as if suddenly remembering something. “I would ask if you wanted the good news or the bad news, but they’re one and the same in this case.”
     
    Coming out of her funk a little and trying to put faith in the fact that Bridgette was right, Susan sat up a little straighter. “What is it?”
     
    “I got the results from your father’s blood test.” She reached into her bag, which was more like a tote than a purse, and pulled out a sheet of paper that she slid across to Susan. Not having learned to really read the technical results like this yet, Susan frowned and waited for an explanation. “The bad news—and the good news—is that based on the dosages of Dilaudid that your father should have been receiving, that screen shows that the buildup in his bloodstream is about four times what it should be. In fact, my contact tells me that he’s an incredibly strong, lucky man to still be alive with his liver failure. It looks like he’s been