Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Before you go to bed, did Matteo say anything else about Aspen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I told him to stay away from her. I just want to make sure he’s listening and not going behind my back to talk a bunch of shit.”
Ren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“There hasn’t been a change. One, Aspen is mine to torment. Two, Matteo needs to learn his place.”
“The only thing I heard him say is that she didn’t show up to class today and that she’s probably hiding in her room or something.” He shrugs.
“All right.”
Ren nods and disappears into his room.
I wait a few more minutes before I get up and slip on my shoes. I smile deviously to myself. It’s time to pay my little toy a visit.
With her key card in hand, I make my way across the dorm to her room. While I’m walking, I think about how I didn’t see her today or hear anyone talking about her either. Normally, there is at least a little bit of chatter about the rat, but there was nothing today or yesterday.
Could she really be hiding out? Maybe she is ashamed about how I made her come, ashamed of how much she liked it. The thought makes me smile with glee.
When I get to her door, I slide the card quickly and push into her room. Before I’m even all the way in the room, I know something is wrong. Instead of the normal flowery scent that is Aspen, the space reeks of puke and sweat.
Wrinkling my nose, I step into the room and pause. My eyes land on the small body sprawled out in the center of the room. For a single moment, my heart stops, and I’m frozen in time. In my mind, I’m rushing toward the unconscious girl, but my limbs won’t work. All I can do is stand there and look at her.
She’s on her stomach with her cheek pressed against the concrete floor, facing my way. Strands of her blond hair sticking to her forehead as if she is sweating, her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted slightly. Her skin is so pale; it’s basically white. The only coloration is the purple around her eyes.
The room is completely quiet; the only thing I can hear is the rapid beating of my heart and my shallow breathing. Only when I hear the raspy sound of a labored breath does my body seem to work again.
I shove into the room and kneel next to her. Using the back of my hand, I touch her cheek, hoping that will wake her up. I pull my hand away quickly as if burned by a hot iron because that’s what it feels like. She’s so fucking hot. She’s burning up.
Sliding my arms under her, I lift her body off the floor, noticing how light she feels. Way too light.
It’s after midnight, and there’s no one out in the hall, so I jog almost the whole way to medical. I hold her to my chest tightly, making sure her head doesn’t bounce around like crazy, but even the continual jogging doesn’t wake her. With each rushed step I take, I get more worried.
How long has she been lying there like this?
The school medical building is basically a small state-of-the-art hospital, so I’m not worried about them not being able to help her. I just hope someone’s there. As I get closer, I see the light inside is on, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Using my shoulders, I push open the large double doors. Like a small emergency room, there is a nurses’ station up front, and right past it, the open space of sections for patients. The sound of the doors opening has one of the nurses rushing to the front to greet me. As soon as she sees me, her face goes pale, and her eyes widen.
She waves me over to a bed. “Here, put her down right here.”
I carefully place her on the bed, and the nurse starts working on her immediately, taking her vitals and firing off questions at me.
“Do you know what happened to her? How long has she been unconscious? Is she allergic to anything? Any family history of diseases? How long has she had a fever?”
“Lady, I don’t fucking know. I don’t know any of this.”
“Okay.” She continues working on her, and then a machine starts beeping. “Fuck!”
“What?”
“Her temperature. It’s 107.1. We need to get her fever down before we do anything else. If she’s been like this for a while, she is in serious trouble. You need to get some wet towels. Over there, in the cabinet. Get all the towels, get them wet and bring it here,” she orders while prepping Aspen’s arm for an IV.