Page 10 of Reaper

She swallows hard and bends down to grab her sweatshirt. Before she can stand, she wobbles, falling to her knees.

Then she groans before throwing up. She’s crashing from the adrenaline rush she got from leaving, and if I had to bet, she’s probably just now registering the amount of pain she’s in from taking a beating.

Once she stops heaving, she attempts to stand again, but her entire body is shaking.

I grit my teeth. There’s no way she’s faking this. She’s not here because he sent her. I feel like she’s telling the truth. She ran to me because she is hoping I can help.

“Fuck,” I mutter before bending over to help her up.

She’s still shaking, her knees threatening to buckle.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She’s crying against my shoulder with her eyes closed.

“Prospect, clean that up,” I demand. “What’s your name?”

I already know what she told Larry, but I want confirmation that she’s not lying.

“Natalie.”

“Natalie, can you walk?”

“I don’t know. I feel so weak. I think I have a concussion. When he punched me, I fell. My head hit the tile.”

“I’m going to pick you up. Can you handle that?” I whisper, realizing her head has to be killing her.

“Yeah.”

Slipping the hoodie back over her head, I help steady her. Then I turn her to face me.

Carefully, I picked her up bridal style, cradling her in my arms.

Her arms go around my neck as she leans against my chest.

“Do you think Kingston will help me?” she whispers.

I take a deep breath. “I will.”

* * *

My head is killing me. Every movement makes me nauseous. Still, there is a relief inside of me.

I don’t know who Kingston is, but this man who has taken me in his arms has said he will help me. Hopefully that will be enough.

As we approach the building, I tuck my head into his neck. The lights from the building make me wince.

When the door opens, my entire body tenses. The music is loud. Too loud.

“Prospect,” the man calls.

I cringe as I bury my face into him. If I could only get some silence, maybe I would feel better.

“Yes, Pres?” a male voice calls from next to me.

“Turn down the music. See this girl in my arms? Get her some water, then watch her. No one is to touch her. Understood?”

The demanding tone in my savior’s voice tells me he’s important. I wonder if his name is Preston. The man called him Pres.

As he slowly sets me down on a couch, I reluctantly let him go.

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