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Someone rolls me over. My eyes flutter open, and I gasp for air, trying to slap their hands away. I scramble to break free, but I can't. A low cry hits my ears, and I realize it's coming from me.
Firm hands grab my shoulders and shake. “Jazz! It’s me. Calm down.”
I still at the sound of Kingston's voice. I blink a few times, waiting for my eyes to focus. Kingston is hovering above me, alarm evident in his forest-green eyes. Bentley is standing behind him, wearing a similar expression.
“Oh, thank fuck.” Kingston presses his forehead against mine, making me wince. When he pulls back, he gently brushes his fingers over the raw skin right below my hairline. His eyes narrow as he says, “What the hell happened here, Peyton?”
I blink a few more times and find Peyton leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.
“How should I know? I already told you, I didn’t see anything. One minute, this psycho was chasing me up the stairs, and in the next, she was out cold.”
Psycho?! Hi, Pot, lovely to meet you. I'm Kettle, your less snotty counterpart.
I chuckle, amused my sarcasm is still going strong, even with another head injury. Kingston’s concerned eyes flicker back to me, likely wondering what’s so entertaining. Or maybe he thinks I’m a lunatic. I’d say the odds are fifty-fifty. That thought makes me snort-laugh.
"Jazz, what happened?" Kingston asks cautiously. I just now notice bruises are blooming on his cheek and around his left eye.
I moan as I try sitting up. Kingston helps me into a seated position, propping me against the
wall.
"I was jumped from behind... the same guy from the woods. Got hit in the head." I reach behind me and rub the sore spot.
Kingston releases a sharp exhale when he copies the motion and feels the big lump. "Jesus, fuck. Bent, will you go raid the freezer? Get me an ice pack, or some peas. Whatever."
“Well, this has been fun and all, but I’m leaving.” Peyton waves her hand in my direction. “Have fun with that.”
“I’m not done with you, Peyton,” Kingston warns. “We’ll be having words as soon as I’m sure Jazz is okay.”
She flips her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. You can talk all you want, Kingston. It’s not going to change the fact that I don’t know anything.”
I wait until Peyton leaves before speaking. “He knew my name. Said he knows where I live. He’s been watching me. He saw the video...made a pervy comment about it.”
Kingston’s jaw clenches. “Motherfucker.”
“Shit,” Bentley says at the same time.
“Yeah.” I start to nod but wince when it makes the pain worse. Jesus, I have the mother of all headaches.
“I’m gonna go get that ice.” Bentley takes off, presumably to the kitchen.
I sit there in a bit of a daze until Bentley returns a few moments later with a bag of frozen vegetables and a paramedic.
When I give him a questioning look, he says, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have him take a look. Some girl called ‘em after her boyfriend’s nose got broken.”
“Awesome.” I sigh.
Kingston shrugs. “At least the place cleared out quickly when people heard the siren. Made it easier to find you.”
The man kneels in front of me. “Hey. Jasmine, is it? I’m Dan. I understand you have a head injury. May I take a look?”
“Go to town,” I mumble.
Dan inspects the back of my head and my temple, instructing me to hold the peas on the bump while he takes my vitals. He flashes a light in my eyes and tells me to follow his finger in all directions while asking a few questions. Kingston brings the paramedic up to speed on my recent concussion while he's packing up his medical bag.
"Well, I think it's just a nasty bump, but I'd still recommend coming in for a CT scan, especially given your recent medical history. We can take you via ambulance, or you can have someone drive you."
“I’ll drive her,” Kingston tells him.
