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“Let me guess?” I snarl. “I can’t be in here this late.”

Her lips form a flat line, irritated she didn’t get the chance to deliver the line herself.

“You want to carry her to her fucking room?”

She doesn’t say a thing.

“Exactly,” I growl when she sits back down behind the desk.

The stairs are no harder than they’ve usually been because she doesn’t weigh much of anything. She’s even more gaunt tonight than she has been in the past. It makes me wonder what the fuck Ayla has been doing with her life because it certainly isn’t fucking watching over her goddamned sister.

“Put me down,” she complains when I take no care in preventing the jostling as I climb up to her room.

“Where’s your key?” I growl, knowing the doors lock instantly when they close, much like most hotel room doors do.

“Lost it.”

I grip her thigh harder than I probably should, but the thought of someone out there possibly having that kind of access to her makes my vision turn red.

I bang my fist on the door, deciding I may just have to kick the motherfucker in, but then it opens.

I shove against it, earning a screech from the girl inside.

“Really?” she snaps, backing away. “Again?”

“The fuck do you mean again?” I ask. She’s not the same girl she shared a room with last semester, but from the frown on her face, this still seems to be Alani’s room.

She snaps her jaw closed, but one glance at the wiggling girl on my shoulder and she opens her mouth to speak.

“This happens all the time, some random guy carrying her home. I’ve reported her to the dean, and it looks like I’ll be doing it again tomorrow.”

“Shut the fuck up, Della,” Alani snaps, lifting her head only a few inches off my back. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a fucking liar. She’s just mad because the guy she likes hit on me last week.”

Della shakes her head, but she doesn’t refute what Alani is saying.

I don’t know who to believe, but none of this is my fucking problem anymore. Hell, it never was my problem in the first place.

I pull her over my shoulder, dropping her to her bed like a sack of horse feed, but instead of walking away immediately, I inch closer, pinning her face between my fingers. I lean in close so there’s no room for misinterpretation.

“I miss—”

I squeeze harder, forcing her to shut up. “You need to get your shit together.”

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but I force myself to ignore them. I can’t keep getting tangled up in her shit.

“This will be the last time I rescue you. The next guy who snatches you up in the dark will hurt you.”

She swallows, her eyelids lowering before she jerks her face out of my grip.

“Fuck you, Donavan.”

I leave her, walking out of her room, not even bothering to close the door behind me. I’ve wasted too much time on her, and I don’t even understand why I’ve done it.

She means nothing to me.

Just like everyone else walking this stupid fucking planet.

Chapter 17

Alani

I know it’s going to be a terrible fucking day before I can even manage to open my eyes.

My body aches. The hell I’ve put it through the last several months seems to have finally caught up with me. I should be used to the hangovers by now, but I’m still surprised by them every fucking time.

I remember puking last night. That disgusting saving grace will make my recovery a little faster since I’m not going to have to deal with all of that trash in my system, but it’s still going to be bad.

I roll my head on my pillow, smelling the filth in my hair but feeling a little relieved that my bitch-ass roommate isn’t here. Blakely is back on campus this semester, but her accident left her incapable of climbing the stairs. She’s in a first-floor dorm room a few buildings over. I went from having the best to the naggiest.

I have no clue why I even came back to school. I barely passed my classes from last semester. When I left this place in May, I was certain I’d never return. I wanted to be an adult. I wanted to make money and just live, not spend hours a day studying and maintaining grades. I got a job in McAllen and lived with Ayla and Nash. It took all of two months to realize that doing that for any extended period of time was less appealing than school, so basically, I’m only here so I don’t have to live with my sister.

I’m slow to climb out of bed, having to sit on the edge and take deep breaths so I don’t get sick. The walk to the shower room is even slower, and I only feel marginally better when I’m done. At least my hair no longer smells like a dumpster, but my full body exhaustion doesn’t leave me with enough energy to fix it, so it ends up in a messy pile on top of my head.

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