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He’d declined sex. Again. The tool. But he had fed me zoodles with chopsticks and cuddled me against his heavenly body while we traded off watching each other’s favorite movies. So, all in all, it was the best scenario after being attacked by two crazed cosplayers.
When I woke up on Saturday morning, I found Amos hovering over me with his arms braced on either side of my body and his black coffee eyes warmer than fresh brew. “Hey, Cupcake,” he smiled.
“Hey,” I croaked around a dry throat. After he’d seen me in so much pain that I couldn’t maneuver off the bed, he’d given me a pill of the “good stuff” that made me feel like a hot air balloon. But it did make my mouth horribly dry.
“I just got paged to U of U. There was a pileup on 215, and they need the extra hands,” he said apologetically.
“S’okay,” I smiled. I made a shooing gesture. “Go away. You’re smothering me.”
He snorted, knowing full well that I had clung to him all night. “Your medicine and water are right there to your left. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I nodded. “You’re so cool. Mr. Magic Hands.”
“DoctorMagic Hands,” he winked before kissing my cheek.
My God, was he ever. After he left, I took the pills he’d set out for me, took two puffs of my inhaler thing—the name Brady had used was way too long to remember—and then I staggered into the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I did, I looked over and saw that Amos had bought me three new outfits, and I cringed.
Okay, time to face some facts, I thought as I gingerly dressed myself in the loose, moss green jumper shorts he had picked for me.One, Amos loves me. Or he thinks he does. Either way, he doesn’t mind me being around, and the one time I had mentioned going home, he had laughed like it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever said. So, logically, the second fact is that I’ll be here for a while. And if that’s the case, I need my stuff.
I looked at myself in the mirror and winced again. My hair had dried bristly and frizzy, and it clouded around my face in a wild, red mane. A bruise at my right temple had wrapped down to my cheekbone, and with my arm in a sling, I looked properly bashed up. Not to mention the huge bandage on my shin that smarted with every step.
Alright, so I looked horrifying. But I could still take a cab home and grab a few things. Clothing, for one, so Amos didn’t feel like he had to buy me an entire capsule wardrobe just for our sleepovers. Also, my own deodorant, zit cream, blah blah blah.
I gasped out loud. My birth control.
June, you dumbass, I thought with a groan.That’s still in the day bag you left at the Medieval Times Horror House. The indignity of having to ask Amos to write me a new birth control prescription did not leave me a lot of room to think. I pulled up the rideshare app and requested one to my house, and barely thinking, I slipped my feet into the pair of flip flops he’d bought me.
The whole way to my house, I kept kicking myself.I don’t use birth control for funsies, I’d said. Withfullfucking confidence like I knew what the hell I was doing. My Mercury wasn’t just in retrograde. It had left the orbit and was careening through space on a drunken bender.
I thanked the driver, who was an older woman who had chatted about her grandkids the whole time, and I gave her a tip like I didn’t have the saddest bank account this side of the Salt Lake. At least Amos was feeding me free food. That helped.
I hobbled my way up the stairs to my apartment, and it was the first time I hated being the top apartment, because usually, I was grateful not to have upstairs neighbors. I paused.
My keys.
“Mothertrucker,” I growled. I couldn’t remember if I had locked it. I was pretty sure I had, but I tried the doorknob just in case. It gave way.
With a sigh of relief that my stupidity had saved me from my airheadedness, I breezed through the door and made sure to lock it behind me. I pulled out my phone, and trying to be responsible, I texted Amos to let him know I was grabbing a few things, but I’d probably be back before he would.
A shape shifted to my left. I looked over, and a scream froze in my throat.
Archer stood from a crouched position. He’d been bent over a pile of my stuff—my paints, my art tote, my day bag—and stood with elated surprise in his Gollum-wide eyes. “June,” he said, likeI’dwalked intohishouse. “Gosh, you’re here.” He looked me up and down. “Wow, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was really worried about you. Have you been at the hospital?”
I frowned. “Archer?” Anger ripped through the hurt he had already caused me. I actually saw my curls tremble in my peripheral vision from my fury. “Get out,” I snapped.
“Easy, easy,” he said, holding out a hand. Something had changed in his expression. Where before, a placid mask had covered the crazy, now there was nothing filming his thoughts. They were plain to see, and whatever had happened after I’d left, it had exacerbated his unhinged thoughts. “I was just returning your stuff. I figured you might be too afraid of Meg to come back and get them.”
My lungs seized as he approached me, and I hurried to the front door. But Archer was faster. He sidestepped, having positioned himself in just the right place behind my door so he could block my path. Like a vacuum seal bag, my lungs sucked in tight. They refused to inflate again.Fudge, I thought angrily.Shut up, body. This is not a helpful panic response.“Ge-geht,” I wheezed. “Geht, ouht.” Fear tickled over my thoughts like thousands of spiders.
Archer took in my retreating form with a growing, manic smile. “What’s wrong, June? You look sick.”
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to will air back into my lungs. But it was no use. I needed to relax. I needed Amos behind me and the birds chirping in a tree overhead. I needed to feel his warmth and know I was safe. I didn’t have that here. What I had was fear so tight, it pulled me inward like a black hole at my center.
The Dracula theme song played over my phone suddenly, filling the air with ironically foreboding music. Archer waved a hand. “No, no, don’t answer that, honey. Let’s visit. I really, really am sorry about Meg. She’s,” he paused, laughing like he was lamenting the brown spots in his lawn, “she’s a little crazy.”
Black dotted the edges of my vision as I tried futilely to pull air into my lungs. The song stopped as Amos’ call went to my voicemail. I took several steps back.
Archer frowned suddenly. “Come on, June, don’t you want to at least offer me something to eat? A drink of water? I came all this way.”
