Page 32 of Drive To Survive

I followed her inside. She practically collapsed onto the sofa, then tucked her knees into her chest and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. Her shivers almost shook the room.

“Do you have a thermometer?” I asked.

Another weary nod. “I took my temperature already. One hundred and two.”

“Fuck. How long have you been like this?”

“It started yesterday, but today I feel as if I’ve been run over by a truck.” She peered up at me through watery eyes. “I can’t be ill, Nico. I have to work, and I have to take care of Rhett.”

“Don’t worry about that.” I perched next to her and brushed a lock of damp hair from her forehead. She was burning up. She couldn’t stay here alone.

No.

I rejected the thought the second it popped into my head.

You cannot take her to your place.

I’d be a terrible housemate. Bad-tempered in the mornings. Dour in the evenings. A difficult bastard to live with at the best of times.

But neither could I leave her here in this state.

Goddammit.

Okay, decision made.

“Which one is your bedroom?”

She gave me a tired smile. “I don’t think I’m up to that.”

I chuckled. At least the illness hadn’t sapped her sense of humor. “Even I’m not that much of a dick. I’m packing you and Rhett a bag. You’re coming to stay with me for a few days until you’re back on your feet.”

I hoped the shock rolling through my insides wasn’t reflected on my face. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, other than acting on a strong instinct to care for her and make sure Rhett was okay. The neighbor must be trustworthy. I couldn’t see Everly leaving Rhett with someone who wasn’t, no matter how ill she felt, but even so, I didn’t like it.

“You can’t do that,” she croaked.

I inclined my head. “I don’t think you’re in any fit state to stop me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“True,” I said, twisting my lips to one side. “I’ll know you a good deal better once I’ve given you a sponge bath.”

She tried to laugh, but that brought on a fit of coughing. I supported her shoulders while she choked up a lung. Once the bout of coughing stopped, she collapsed against the pile of cushions supporting her, completely spent. She pointed to a door behind her that had a slight dent in the middle where the cream-colored paint had chipped off.

“That’s my bedroom.”

Her capitulation was a testament to just how ill she must have felt. After rifling around in her wardrobe, I found a duffel bag. I went through her drawers and tossed in a few things. I tried not to look at her underwear as I picked up a couple of bras and a few pairs of knickers, but it was hard not to with my hands full of her intimates.

After I’d gathered a few things for her, I did the same for Rhett. By the time I returned to the living room, she’d fallen asleep. A horrible rattling sound came from her chest as she breathed in and out. That sounded like an infection to me. I called Tate and updated him, asking if he wouldn’t mind bringing Madison to my house. Lucky for me, they weren’t leaving for London until tomorrow. I’d rather she check Everly over than call some random doctor. Lucky for me, they weren’t leaving for London until tomorrow.

I didn’t want to wake Everly, but I needed her to contact the neighbor and tell her to bring Rhett home. She’d hardly allow the boy to go with a complete stranger if I went around there myself, not that I knew which neighbor had him, and other than knocking on several nearby doors and asking if they were taking care of a six-year-old boy—behavior that would likely get me arrested—I didn’t have a choice.

I kneeled beside her and gently squeezed her clammy hand. When she didn’t wake, I shook her gently. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Sorry, so tired.”

“You will be. Your body is fighting off a viral load. I need you to contact your neighbor and ask her to bring Rhett around. I’ve packed bags for you both, and the car is right outside.”

She struggled to sit up. I put my hand on her arm, stopping her.

---