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“Don’t sleep, Tempe,” Justin said. “Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“N-no,” I said weakly. “N-no… more… hospitals.”
“What?” Luna asked. “Youneedto see someone.”
“I’ll call someone,” Justin said.”
“Blackwell,” I heard Damian say, though I couldn’t see him.
“Don’t start,” Justin said. “We all know she trusts me and not you. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her leave with either of you—even if you did just help.”
“No,” Damian said. “I was just going to say… Take care of her. Text me if either of you need anything. I mean it, Blackwell.”
What… the fuck… is happening?
My eyes grew heavy again, not that they were of use anyway. I still couldn’t see a damned thing between the darkness and the dizziness—just shapes moving. I could only identify the shapes by their voices.
“I will,” Justin said flatly.
“We’ll stay with her,” Luna said. “I’ll text you updates.”
“Good,” Damian said before walking away.
“Thank you, Luna,” Asher followed up before also retreating.
Large, warm hands slid under my body, and I groaned as the pain in my head throbbed with the movement.
“It’s okay, Tempe,” Justin said. “I’ll take you back to my dad’s house, and I’ll call my uncle. He’s a neurologist.”
“Lucky that, huh?” Luna said as Justin lifted me.
He laughed. “Well, I guess I could have called his wife. She’s a gynecologist, but I figured that’s not the part that needs looked at.”
I wanted to laugh at his joke, but the pain was too much, and I was just too tired. Before we even reached the car, everything went black again, and I didn’t remember anything for a long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ASHER
By the time I got back to my dorm, I’d looked like I’d just been caught in below freezing weather. In California, of all places. My teeth chattered. Shivers wracked my body. I couldn’t still my hands.
My hands…
My gaze wandered from my bloody, broken hands over to the door I’d just walked through. There was a giant, gory handprint that smeared down the inside from where I’d placed my hand on it, shut it, and let it slide down.
How much of this is mine?
How much of it is his?
The back of my mouth filled with sour saliva. My body reacted in the apparent absence of my brain and quickly carried me to my bathroom, where I fell to my knees and vomited the entire contents of my stomach. I lost track of how many times my body tried to purge itself of more than just the lingering alcohol and nachos from the bar.
The images wouldn’t leave my mind.
Who the hell was that?I wondered.
It wasn’t me… was it?
It wasn’t my first fight, and even collapsed on my cool, marble bathroom floor, I knew it wouldn’t be my last.
