Page 120 of Creed

I force back the vomit, swallowing multiple times as I finally chime into the conversation. My stomach flu will make a dramatic entrance soon, so I don’t have much time.

“It makes sense. If Soph fell in love with this Creed guy and found out who his family was, it would’ve gutted her.” I look at Antonio, who looks worse than me. “Itdidgut her. She’s been like a shell these past four months.”

Antonio drags a hand over his face. “But why did she run? Did this Creed guy suddenly get sick of her telling him no?”

That nearly sends me over the edge with panic. Kidnapped? Forced against her will?

But Sophie wouldn’t have fallen in love with a villain. The possibility that makes the most sense is that her mysterious love is helping her, keeping her safe from an actual threat.

Beads of sweat coat my face and run down my spine. “Creed or his family planted the fake sightings of Sophie,” I surmise, gripping onto the idea that Creed and his family might not be as bad as feared.

“Ollie, are you okay?” Ryn asks, concerned.

I continue without processing what she says, trying to coordinate the chaotic possibilities and thoughts into something rational. “To force whoever is a threat to Sophie to act. That means they’re on our side.”Oh, please, please be on our side.“We could work with them,” I reason.

“Absolutely not,” Antonio nearly spits. “They’re criminals—”

Bile pushes into my throat as my stomach cramps again, but suddenly, I’m full of absolute conviction that this is the explanation. Creed isn’t a threat to Sophie; he is the complete opposite. “Who are trying to keep Sophie safe. That doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Antonio demands.

“Antonio,” Miguel murmurs.

Desperation and anger surge within me. I try to ignore a vicious cramp, my mouth salivating with a warning that the contents of my stomach will soon be spewing over everything. I need to get to my dorm before this stomach flu hits me in full force. But I need Antonio not to block this very real lead just because of moral viewpoints.

“Fuck that and your high-handed opinions, Antonio,” I say with more heat than necessary, but my desperation trumps my guilt. “Maybe that’s why Sophie hid this for so long.”

He rears back like I slapped him. “That’s not fair.”

I know, but I’m desperate, and I’m a dick.“She kept it from me, too, so I’m just as much to blame.”

“No one’s to blame here,” Tag insists.

I heave, choking back a toxic combination of fear, guilt, and bile, and clamp my hand over my mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

Rolf suddenly is in front of me—how that huge mountain of a man moves so quickly and agilely, I’ll never understand—holding an empty ice bucket and touching my forehead. “She’s burning up.”

My body bucks as I retch, but nothing comes up. “I need to go home.”

My brain blocks out whatever they say, and it takes a Herculean effort to concentrate on controlling my stomach, which I know is a losing battle. Between the panic about getting sick and about Sophie, it finally processes what Rolf says.

“I can take Ollie and stay with her.”

“No,” I choke out, horrified. “You can’t stay. It’s a one-room deal. I don’t want you in there while I’m hurling my guts out or needing to run to the bathroom, so I don’t shit myself.”

Rolf helps me stand. “I’ll take up a post outside to watch your building and be on site if you need.”

“It’s that, or you stay here,” Antonio says with no room for arguing.

I’m not the one in danger here. I want to scream, but my body is betraying me.

I swallow repeatedly before turning to Rolf. “I need to go.Now.”

The rush out of the hotel is a blur. When Rolf helps me into his SUV, I mumble, “I should just catch a cab. The team needs your help; I can’t get you sick.”

He gently pushes me into the front seat. “I have the immunity of an ox.”

“I don’t know what that means. Like, are you bulletproof against germs, or do you get everything?”

---