Page 80 of Tell Me Lies

“Had, Reggie. I had a job there, but my GPA will drop after this class. My employment was contingent on academics.”

“Oh, sorry, Anya. That does suck.” He grunted, straightening then as the slam of the auditorium doors got everyone’s attention. “You’ll get something else.”

“Sorry, I’m late, class.” The woman’s voice carried into the high ceiling of the auditorium.

All my bodily functions stopped. Who was she?

I turned my head to see the woman, beautiful in her own bright-green pantsuit and coiffed blond hair darting down the step to the auditorium. She carried a massive Goyard bag and held a Starbucks coffee cup in her right hand.

“The line at Starbucks was insane this morning,” she said once she reached the podium.

I leaned into Reggie’s arm. “Who’s that?” I bordered on frantic.

He leaned in closer, too, and I could smell his citrusy cologne and cinnamon gum breath. “That’s Professor Marlene. She took over on Monday.”

But it was Friday, and that meant Ursin hadn’t been going to class all week either. Oh, God. Was it because of me?

“Where’s Mr. Miller?”

Reggie pulled back to look at me, confusion on his face. “You didn’t hear?”

“What?” I wanted to grab him by the polo shirt and shake him. “What happened?”

“He was in a bad car accident. He’s been in the hospital.” Reggie narrowed his gaze. “You didn’t get the email? I surely thought you’d know what happened to him.”

What was that supposed to mean? Did he have suspicions about us? Ugh. I couldn’t investigate what he knew and when. Ursin was in the hospital.

Reggie quickly swiped through his phone and handed it to me. “It was in the news.”

I grabbed his phone and read through the screen: DA in a hit-and-run Friday afternoon on the tenth block of Hermann Drive. Retaliation hit suspected.

Oh, God. The tenth block of Hermann Drive was where my apartment was located. He was going to see me. I dropped Reggie’s phone back in his hand and stood, grabbing my backpack.

“Where are you going? We have the final exam right now.” Reggie reached for me but missed my arm.

“I have to go.” Nothing could stop me.

I arrived at the hospital intensive care wing, dodging security who I knew were there protecting Ursin, especially if they suspected retaliation.

I stood against the wall, watching the closed door to Ursin’s room. And I waited until the coast was clear. It could have been hours or minutes of waiting, I wasn’t sure. I was sure that I didn’t want to let Ursin go. My heart and my head agreed, and this was my fate. I was powerless against fate.

In between a security shift swap, I took my chance. I walked to the door and opened it, but not before a hand pulled me back by the shoulder.

“Hey!” The voice was menacing, threatening violence with the single word.

Adrenaline ran through me. I was terrified. “I need to see Ursin. He has to know I’m here.”

The broad towering man scoffed in my face, lifting me off my heels with his hold. “No fucking way—”

“Let her in.” The voice came from the now-opened door. Ursin stood, bandaged and bruised, wearing a cast on his left leg and right forearm.

God, he looked awful. My stomach clenched, and a knot bigger than I could manage formed in my throat.

“Sir?” the security guard said, though he didn’t let me go.

“Release her now,” he said, low and threatening. Jesus, even beat up to hell, he still lashed out, made his demands, and expected them to be met.

The man let me go, and immediately I ran to Ursin, stopping only inches from him.

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