Page 52 of Something So Strong

Maybe I fell asleep looking at my phone?

Slowly, I look down the hallway. First right, then left.

No one else has come to see if he’s alright so…

Yep. Definitely out like a light.

Creeping backwards, I half expect the walls to start melting, but instead, my fears are confirmed and a low thud draws me back.

Then again. Quick and blunt, like a body being thrown against the wall.

“Kai, it’s Jesse. Open the door.”

“No! No! Please stop!”

“Kai! Open the door!” I pound on the wood, but his cries for help continue.

Like an idiot, I run back into my room and grab my key.

Of course, it doesn’t work, but I’ve never heard anyone in so much distress in all my life, so anything was worth a try.

Gripping the handle firmly, I shake it and bang again. Calling his name over and over.

Fuck it. I’m knocking it down.

Stepping back, I turn my upper body side on and—

“Jesse, get out of the way!” It’s Alma. She’s running towards me, and her sudden presence sends me from protector to panicked bystander.

“Hurry!” I yell at her, grabbing my hair in both hands and rocking back and forth as she unlocks his door.

Alma turns the handle and looks back at me. “Go to bed, Jesse.”

“Fuck off.” I try to push past her, but she blocks my entrance.

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Now go back to bed.” Her voice is hushed, but the gravel in her tone is commanding.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“You are no help to him, Jesse.”

Even with Alma’s accent dulling the blow, her message still cuts deep. But if I can’t help him, how can she?

Anguished sobs hit our ears and I look to the slither of darkness where Kai’s door is cracked. I’ve never fought against a woman with anything other than my words, but if I hear him call for help one more time, that may have to change. And regrettably, Alma can see the intention written all over my face.

“Back it up, Jesse,” she orders, pushing me firmly in the chest.

“What’s happening to him, Alma?” I demand, but she doesn’t reply. Instead, her eyes glaze over, and with a pivot of her hips, the sole of her foot collides with my sternum and I’m sent stumbling backwards into the wall.

“Bitch!” I curse, pressing my hands to the site. But she’s gone. And her last screw you is the sound of his door locking again.

My body jolts awake—my heart instantly in my throat at what it means if my aching back and thighs weren’t clue enough.

I’ve not been woken by my alarm for so long that I can’t remember when it was.

With Cleo, I think. Though the only reason I slept after being with her is because she made the whole thing so easy and not because I’d dreamed of… back then, or… him.

Not wanting to face reality, I blindly outstretch my arm and fumble around the nightstand until my hand lands on my phone. Retreating back under the sheets, I finally open my eyes and turn off the alarm, only for the screen to instantly fog up.

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