Tangled (18 page)

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Authors: Em Wolf

BOOK: Tangled
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“I’ll
let you sleep on it.”

“I’ve
got to go. I’ll talk to you later.” She hit end before her mother could respond
and slid the phone in her back pocket.

Now
there was something she wasn’t looking forward to: family time.

Gag me.

After
checking her mailbox and purchasing a wrap, she left through the student
center’s back exit. She wanted to catch Riley before he left. His last exam had
been yesterday, the lucky bastard.

Cameron
was probably still stuck in his Constitutional Law exam. She’d looked over his
study guide last night. After one minute, the legal jargon began swimming
across the page like alphabet soup. Apparently pre-law was not written in the
stars for her, not that she was terribly upset.

Tess
faltered when she spotted the black Ferrari parked across the street.

Adonis
.

So
he was alive. And home for once.

Tess
hesitated in front of the porch.

She
could always just shoot Riley a text. And it wasn’t like his place in Jersey
wasn’t a hop, skip, and a path away.

She
was about to turn on her heel when the smell drifted past the screen door.

Something
was burning.

Tess
rushed inside and tracked the odor to the hazy kitchen. Tendrils of black smoke
curled above an empty saucepan on the stove, the burner on. Using a dishtowel,
she tossed it in the sink and ran the cold tap until water flowed over the rim.

She
refused to believe anyone could be this idiotic. Tess switched off the stove
and called out, “Riley!”

No
response.

“Anyone
home?”

More
silence.

Irritation
a bug under her skin, she climbed the stairs and checked the second floor. Both
Cameron and Riley’s rooms were empty.

That
only left one stone unturned.

She
glanced to the attic stairs. If he was trying to kill himself, why did he have
to take the entire house down with him?

Jaw
set, she stalked her way up the last set of steps. The door hung ajar.
“Adonis?” She pushed it open.

The
room was pitch black and reeked of something faintly metallic. Her hands groped
blindly along the wall for the light switch. Tess barely caught herself from
slipping on something wet.

Someone
had obviously forgotten that the college didn’t employ housekeepers.

Unearthing
her phone, she hit the power button. Light speared through the darkness and
glanced off a pool of shiny, red paint under her flats.

No,
not paint.

Blood.

Icy
terror pooled in her gut. She panned the phone’s light to the motionless body
not a foot away.

Oh my God.

_____________

 

Tess
sat braced on the edge of the worn sofa. Vinyl perspired beneath her clammy
death grip. She couldn’t remember how long she’d been sitting here. Time was
lost on her. Jade had texted and called her a thousand times, probably
wondering where she’d disappeared. But she couldn’t be bothered right now.

Laughter
from a studio audience droned from a television in the corner. Save for an
elderly man snoring softly across from her, she had only her thoughts for
company.

The
nurses hadn’t allowed her access to the ER when they unloaded Adonis and
wheeled him inside. Neither had they brought her word of his condition since
then.

Turmoil
raged through her: fear for his wellbeing, anger at being placed in this position,
and hope that she’d gotten to him in time. For years she’d cavalierly joked
about him overdosing and tossed around the idea of wanting him dead. But
reality had an ugly way of putting things into perspective. As badly as Adonis
treated her, as much as she hated him, she didn’t actually want him to die.

The
memory of finding his blood-covered face and pale, unmoving form replayed.

The
rasping of his labored breaths had spurred her into action. Tess had fallen
hard to her knees as she dialed 911. While waiting for the paramedics, the
operator had instructed her to keep him conscious by talking to him and
watching his breathing; that if he stopped she would have to resuscitate him.

Thankfully
it never came to that.

Within
minutes the ambulance arrived. The paramedics worked swiftly and efficiently.
When asked if she would be riding along, she hadn’t thought twice about jumping
aboard.

The
ER’s doors swooshed open.

A
middle-aged nurse clad in salmon-colored scrubs emerged. The name on her
printed on her ID tag read Chastity. Nurse by day, stripper by night? “Are you
the young lady that accompanied the overdose patient?”

She
shook her head free of the random thought. “Yes.”

“If
you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your boyfriend.”

Too
drained to correct her, Tess stood. “Is he going to be ok?”

Chastity
offered a comforting smile as she led them down the corridor. “He’ll be fine.
He regained consciousness not too long ago and we were able to administer
treatment. We'll keep him for a day or two for observation before discharging
him.”

“My friend
didn’t do it on purpose,” Tess said, not entirely sure why she defended him.
“He’s too much of an egomaniac.”

The cragged
parentheses bracketing the older woman’s mouth deepened as her mouth thinned.
“We all hope for the best. But overdose cases are the most frustrating. We
don’t have the time or resources to sit down with the patient and root out the
cause of the problem. We can only hope they want better for themselves and
break the cycle.”

“He will.
He wants to get better.”
Another bold-faced lie.

The
tired lines of her face lifted by degrees. “It’s loved ones like you that make
all the difference. No matter how difficult it gets, don’t ever give up on him,
hon.” Chastity drew back a curtain to a small space that didn’t quite qualify
as a room. “Here we are.”

She
worked hard to keep her jaw from slackening as the nurse moved aside.

He
looked like hell.

Panting
heavily, his normally olive features were washed out. Hollow-eyed, sweat
darkened the neckline of his paper-thin hospital gown. Unkempt, damp hair half-plastered,
half-curled to his face. Add that to several days’ worth of unshaven facial scruff,
his appearance would’ve bordered on feral had it not been for utter vacancy of
his expression. Bloodstained gauze patched his right temple. An IV had been
inserted into his right forearm and a plastic bin sat in his lap.

“Mr.
Benoit, feeling any better?” Chastity asked.

Instead
of snipping back with his usual sarcasm, Adonis said nothing. In fact, he’d yet
to acknowledge either of their presence.

“A
counselor from our assessment team will be stopping by shortly with a few
questions.” She aimed a knowing look at Tess. “I’ll be down the hall if you
need anything.”

At
a loss, Tess shifted her weight as the nurse left them alone.

He
was a husk of his former self and it unnerved her. Knocked from the orbit of
planet ego, the incident had flattened his usual aggression and contempt. That
alone was cause enough to make her uncomfortable. He seemed like a different
person.

Fallible.

Imperfect.

Human.

As
such, Tess didn’t know how to interact with him. Yes, maybe she’d saved his
life, but that didn’t make them
insta
-buddies. So
where did that leave them?

The
sound of intense, painful retching made the meager contents of her stomach
curdle. When he finished, Adonis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Exhaustion wreathed the skin beneath his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”
His voice sounded like sandpaper dragging over gravel.

“Look
at you like what?”

Fatigue-smudged
eyelids rose to half-mast. “I don’t need your pity.”

“That
look wasn’t pity, but me wondering how I was going to get back to campus.”

The
seconds ticked by without a response from him. “How did you get the gash on
your head?” she asked for lack of anything better to say.

“I
fell.”
 

Tess
played with the hem of her shirt. “Do you need me to bring you a change of
clothes or something?”

He
stared blankly at the lower portion of her body.

She
followed his gaze down. Pink smeared her hands. Even her jeans hadn’t escaped
unscathed. The material was stiff with dried blood from where she’d knelt
beside him. She’d been so worried about him she hadn’t realized the state of
her appearance.

The
edges of her vision whitened. Short of breath, Tess clung to the back of a
plastic chair for support.

 
“Why?” She barely heard him over the
ringing in her ears.

 
“Why what?”

“Why
did you bring me here?” It wasn’t as much gratefulness as it was accusation.

Anger
sluiced past numbing shock. “Is this your way of saying thank you for saving
your life? Because you need to work on your delivery.”

He
closed his eyes. “You didn’t save shit. I wasn’t dying.”

“So
says the guy who not two hours earlier was passed out on his floor covered in
blood.” She breathed in through her nose as the frightening image resurfaced.
“I’m sorry for caring.”

“Don’t
pretend you give two shits about me.”

“You’re
right. I don’t. But I did what I thought was right. Next time I’ll just leave
you there. Maybe Cam will take pity on you.” Crap. How could she have forgotten
about him? “Speaking of which.” Tess drew her phone.

Panic
scrubbed his indifference. “Don’t!”

“I’m
sure he’s seen you in worse condition.”

“I’ll
forget the deal,” he blurted.

“What?”

“Do
whatever you want. Be with him,” he gritted with obvious pain. “Just don’t say
anything about this.”

In
spite of the trade off, the idea of harboring more secrets made her doubly uncomfortable.
Why did she feel as if she was getting the short end of the stick? “What are
you so worried about? Cameron’s never been one to judge you before.”

“Because
it’s none of his fucking business. Or yours for—” His features became
chalkier.

Tess
made a face as he bent over the bucket and hurled. The squelching fluid slopped
perilously close to the bin’s lip. “I’ll get you another one.”

On
her way to the nurse’s station, she made a pit stop. Locking the bathroom door
behind her, Tess braced herself against the sink. What was her problem? She
wasn’t the one lying in a bed dressed in a napkin and puking her guts out. So
why did she feel so cold and weak?

Tess
dared to glance at her reflection. She looked tired, haunted. Dark circles
bagged her eyes. Her colorless complexion gave her hair a sanguine tint.

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