Page 70 of Sack

“Well, Oz did. I don’t have her number.”

She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. “How was the game? Sorry I missed it.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I think it’s the stomach flu. Nausea. Really bad stomach pains.” She pried open one eye. “You probably shouldn’t be here. You can’t afford to get sick.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She winced and bent her knees, hugging her legs to her chest.

He hated seeing her in pain. He was also at a loss on how to help. “Can I get you some water?”

She rolled her head back and forth along the wall. “Tried that. It just makes me throw up more.”

Colt pulled his phone out and typed stomach flu into the search engine. After skimming a few articles, he asked, “Have you tried anti-nausea meds?”

“No.”

“And I don’t suppose you have any in the house.”

She tried to give him a weak smile and failed. “No.”

“Okay. I’m going to run out and get some, but let’s move you to the bed first.”

“No, it’s too far if I get sick again. Besides, the cool tile helps.”

He placed a hand to her forehead. She did feel warm. “I hate leaving you here like this.” And he did. The last thing he wanted was to leave her lying on the bathroom floor.

“I’m okay. I really don’t want to move.”

She was dressed in only a t-shirt and panties, but he noticed her leggings discarded in the corner. “What about a blanket and pillow?”

Not making the effort to speak, she just shook her head again.

“I’ll be as quick as I can. Where’s your phone?”

Her eyes darted around the bathroom. “I don’t know.”

After a minute of searching, he found it in her purse that had been tossed on the floor by her closet. He woke it, seeing a slew of notices from his missed texts and calls, and checked the battery—still had half-life.

He took it into the bathroom, setting it on the floor beside her. “Call if you need anything while I’m gone. And Jason is downstairs. I’ll tell him to keep an ear open for you.”

She plopped her forehead to her knees as if her neck were too weak to hold her head up any longer. “Okay.” Her voice was muffled and faint, and he knew he had to hurry.

He was only gone twenty minutes, but it felt longer. So much longer. Thankfully, the drug store had what he needed. He’d also bought a couple bottles of Gatorade, a box of Saltine crackers, and a digital thermometer.

When he returned to the bathroom, she was in the same position he’d left her, not having moved a muscle. He set the bag down on the counter and reached inside, pulling out the bottle of anti-nausea liquid.

He got down to his haunches next to her and laid a hand on her back. “Ivy?” She tipped her head to the side, and he held out the bottle. “Here. Take a swig of this.”

“I can’t. Not right now.”

“It will make you feel better,” he coaxed. “Come on.” He nudged the bottle at her.

She sighed, taking the bottle and then a small sip.

“A little more.”

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