Page 89 of Darkest Obsession

I have to force myself away from her, make it just one kiss and not a thousand. Clover looks stunned.

“I hate you,” she breathes, as if I’m the one who made her jump all over me, all horny and everything with her soft, perfect lips.

“I know.”

“You’re agreeing to my plan, then?”

“Sure, babe.”

“Call me babe again and I’ll kick you in the balls.”

It’s hard not to smile at everything she says, even if they’re either threats or insults.

“Let’s find, Syl,” I mutter.

“Yeah,” she says. “And keep your lips to yourself.”

She grabbed my face first.

“Sorted.”

We walk outside the dorm and search for a few feet. I don’t expect us to find anything, or anyone, but then Clover points in the distance.

“Do you see that on the path?”

“No.”

“It’s a person. I think it’s her.”

Then I see it. A girl, lying on the path, her limbs contorted. Possibly dead.

Sylvia. I think I’m going to be sick.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Clover

Sylvia lies limp on the pavement. Her body lying there all brings me back to that terrible night. I don’t want to think about what happened, or the fact that she still threatens to do it sometimes. I have to get to Sylvia. I touch her body and she’s warm. I’m just glad I’m not touching my dead best friend. I hold her close to me, trying to wake her up. Thomas has his phone out.

“I’m calling the ambulance. Is she…”

He doesn’t want to say it, but I exhale with relief.

“She’s alive. She’s warm. But… I think she’s hurt. Sylvia? Sylvia, can you hear me?”

I press my ear to her chest. She needs a jacket. I can’t tell how long she’s been out here, but it can’t be healthy for her. She’s out cold. At least she’s still breathing. I can see the rise and fall of her chest, but I don’t know how long it will last. Thomas gets someone on the phone and he handles the dispatcher with all the imperious demands I would expect.

“Get someone over here IMMEDIATELY!”

Yes, Thomas. That’s their job. I touch Sylvia’s cheek and try to lie her on her side. She doesn’t smell like she’s been drinking or anything. I search her body for any open wounds and then I touch her head to move it and my hand comes away from her thick hair wet with blood.

Someone hit her head.

“I think someone hit her head.”

Thomas communicates as much to the dispatcher on the other end of the line. We sit there together with Sylvia for only a few minutes before the EMTs get there, but it feels like a painfully long time. The ambulance won’t let either of us leave with her and the paramedics feel suspicious that we can’t answer any questions about where she was, or what she was doing. We just found her. We can’t tell them anything.

Deans come out of the dorms and seem to have very few questions for me or Thomas considering we were breaking the rules by being together. I assume it’s Thomas’ privilege at work and I don’t argue with the fact that I’m not in trouble for once.