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“Fuck,” he hissed, digging his fingers into his eye sockets. “Now, I guess.”
“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, watching as he braced one hand on the counter.
“The fact that I could’ve killed my little brother when he showed up tonight was a pretty clear indication,” he muttered. “Jesus, sorry.”
He hurried past me and less than a minute later, I could hear him getting sick in the bathroom under the stairs.
I didn’t have time to contemplate the fact that he’d just told me he loved me and then vomited because as I hurried toward the bathroom, I heard a loud thump. “Otto?” I knocked tentatively on the door. “Otto, are you okay?”
No answer. I knocked louder.
“Are you sick?” I called, raising my voice. “Otto?”
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I found Heather’s number in my contacts.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Heather—”
“Esther,” Heather said in realization. “Hey, honey. This your new number?”
“Otto was throwing up,” I said quickly, still trying to push the bathroom door. “And then he fell or something and I can’t get the door open.”
“Where is he?” Heather asked.
“In the bathroom.”
“Sit tight, I’ll be right there.”
My hands shook as I put the phone back in my pocket.
“Otto?” I called again, resting my head against the door. “Please answer me.”
Chapter 16
Otto
“Fuck,”I groaned.“Hold on.”
“Otto, you don’t answer me, I’m kickin’ in the door,” my brother Micky yelled.
“Don’t bust my door,” I yelled back, the pain in my head almost bringing me to my knees again.
“Open it,” he snapped.
Holding on to the counter, I reached out and unlocked the door, letting him swing it open.
“Fuck,” he said, getting a good look at me.
“Yeah, no shit,” I whispered, squinting against the light.
“Bad one?”
“Worst I’ve had in a while,” I muttered as he helped me out of the bathroom.
“Scared the shit outta Esther,” he said as he walked me toward the kitchen. He’d thankfully dimmed the lights.
“She okay?” I asked, panic tightening my chest. “How long was I out?”
