The snow falls harder, and my lips feel like ice cubes. I’m going to die if I don’t get warm soon, and yet my feet won’t stop slogging up the city’s snow-covered sidewalks.
I clench my teeth to keep them from chattering, but it doesn’t work. My eyelids are heavy as I try to figure out where I am. I focus on a set of steps to the warehouse-like apartment building with large windows. Most have inviting light pressing against the glass. Then I tilt my head back to glare at the dark and cloudy sky. This is not the night to aimlessly stroll the streets. I’m shivering uncontrollably as my body warns me to either stop breathing or get warm.
The steps.
The building.
I know where I am.
I reach in my coat pocket for my phone, but then I remember I dropped it in a trash bin not long after trudging away from the VTI building. That cell phone belonged to Lark Davenport, and as far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.
I stare up at Eden’s window. Her lights are off. Either she’s not home, or she’s asleep. My brain tells me to walk to the subway station, get home as soon as I can, then figure out what to do next after I’m warm and have gotten some sleep. But I’m already plodding up the short set of steps. Whenever my feet hit the concrete, my soles burn as if a mad scientist is pricking them with a million stick pins.
Standing in front of the glass doors framed by metal. Taking shallow breaths because my lungs are unable to process much more cold air, I stare into the empty lobby, praying that someone will come out so that I can go in.
One, two, three.If I make it to ten, then I’ll force myself to walk to the subway.Four, five…
Miraculously, a couple pads down the stairs and into the empty lobby. I’m too miserable to pretend I’m trying to contact one of the residents on the callbox in efforts to not look like a trespasser without an invitation. However, when the couple walks out, the man holds the door open so I can enter.
“Thank you,” I whisper then catch a glance at his empathetic gaze before I put my head down. I’ve been crying for hours. I must look like a mess.
I don’t break pace as I limp up the stairs. Walking hurts like hell. But I don’t stop until my numb fingers are pressing the doorbell outside Lake’s apartment.
My heart pounds for dear life. Now that air around me is much warmer, I feel like I can pass out and sleep for days. Seconds tick by, and I’m starting to think she isn’t home. I had no intentions of showing up at her apartment unannounced. And, really, I have some nerve after what I did.She doesn’t know, though.I hope Hercules hasn’t called Mason and informed him of my betrayal. I want to be the first to tell Lake. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her as a friend.
Instead of ringing the doorbell again, I pound weakly on the metal, using my fist.
I wait. I incline my numb ear toward the door. I don’t hear noise coming from inside. I don’t think she’s home. She could be out with Mason or spending the night at his place. I’ve been so focused on my relationship with Hercules that I haven’t notice how much their relationship has progressed. I’ve been extremely selfish for the past two weeks. Even deciding to stay at VTI for as long as I did was selfish. And now look where it’s gotten me.
My memory takes me back to Hercules standing next to the guard, looking at me as if I were a ghost. He’s so done with me.
I clutch my chest. My heart hurts so much.
As I decide to sit and wait until I’m warm enough to drag myself to the subway station, I hear a bolt turn, then another and another.
When the door opens, Lake slaps a hand over her mouth as she gasps. “Oh my God, Lark, what happened to you?”
Only when she curls an arm around me do I realize how much I’m shivering. Her body heat feels exquisite. Each step that Lake helps me take into her apartment hurts like hell. But the warmth settling in the atmosphere feels like a heated blanket.
“Were you mugged?” she asks.
I struggle to shake my head.
“Then what?”
“I…” The word drops out of my mouth like a failure.
I want to explain what happened, but I can't for fear that I might incriminate myself, which will leave her no other option than to throw me back out into the cold.
She sighs as if she’s frustrated by my lack of engagement. “Okay, let’s get you warm first.”
Good idea.I nod.
Lake checkedmy toes and fingers, and as far as she could tell, I don’t have frost bite. Through spurts of crying, Lake helps me into her clawfoot tub after running a lukewarm bath for me. She explains that she’ll increase the temperature as I start to heat up.
“What is wrong with you, Lark? You have to start talking, because I’m beyond worried. Do I have to call the police? Should you even be taking a bath right now?”
Oh…I shake my head. She thinks I might have been sexually violated. “No. The police aren’t necessary,” I whisper. At least they wouldn’t be on my side. I was the one who committed a crime. Tears fill my eyes as I recall the security guards escorting me out of the VTI building. Every step felt so humiliating.