Page 120 of Fake Game

“Is it the same as Deer? Is he conscious?”

Was there something in the food? No. No, she didn’t end up eating last night. Maybe it was something from today? But that wouldn’t make sense. Our schedules didn’t sync up; she had the cosplay competition, and we were at the showcase for a few hours before the meet and greet.

“I don’t have the full information yet, but Mr. Knight is escorting him.”

“Shit.”

I pick up my pace again, really sprinting this time. It isn’t that much farther to go now.

As soon as I break through the doors to the valet circle, I see Sydney burst out on the opposite end.

“Everyone, move out of the way.” Her voice explodes over the people crowding the ambulances. “Move, or so help me God, I will do everything in my legal power to make you regret it.”

Aleks comes jogging out with Parker on his back. He is definitely awake, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s lucid. Parker looks the same as he did two years ago when he made a bet that he could drink an entire magnum of champagne in under an hour.

I’m torn, wanting to check on him and see what the situation is, but also, I’m not going to leave Deer’s side. Parker is my brother, but Deer is something more.

“Is this the other patient?” The emergency responder meets me halfway.

“Yes, she’s going in and out of consciousness.”

“For how long?”

“I want to say the last fifteen minutes or so, but she wasn’t well a bit before that.”

Another responder comes to remove her from my arms, but I can’t bring myself to release her.

“Sir, I need you to let go. We need to move her into the ambulance for transfer and to check her vitals.”

I relinquish my hold, passing her to the waiting responder.

“Can I come?”

The first responder hesitates, looking me over.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“Fine, you can sit in the passenger seat.”

I want to argue, want to sit in the back so I can hold her hand, but I don’t want to push and get banned entirely. So, I give her a terse nod and slip into the front where the driver is waiting.

I peer over my seat through the grates, watching as they load Deer onto the gurney and push up the sleeve of her sweatshirt so they can take her blood pressure.

They’re trying to speak to her, trying to get her to respond, but they only manage to pull a single moan from her before she’s out cold again.

“You said symptoms only began fifteen minutes ago?” The first responder glances up at me.

“That’s when she started to get really bad, but,” I try to think back, piecing together every little detail, “she didn’t seem well for the last half hour or so.”

“Can you elaborate? Was she feeling nauseous, dizzy, sluggish? Maybe having difficulty remembering things?”

“She was dizzy and tripping over things, said it was just from being tired.” My voice cracks a little as guilt rears its ugly head.

I watch as they shine a light in her eyes.

“Does your girlfriend wear contacts?”

“Yes.”

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