16. Fallon
16
Fallon
“ Fallon !”
The roar of my name wakes me. The flashlight in my lax grip clatters against the side of the closet as I jerk, my head banging against the wall. My heartbeat thumps heavily against my ribcage as I jerk to full, petrified wakefulness in an instant.
They’re back.
And they’re furious.
I can hear them tearing the house apart, searching for me.
Oh, god.
I stay where I am, curled up inside the duvet of my tiny makeshift nest. I don’t have to feign the moisture that gathers in my eyes as I bury my face into the cotton, breathing in deeply.
Footsteps.
I jolt back, a low whine slipping out involuntarily as Shaun rips the door of my closet open. His scent bursts over me like an oil slick as I shrink back against the wall, tilting my neck to the side. “I’m sorry.”
My blurted, panicked apology; the tears that flood my face, the shaking of my hands as I lift them – none of it is fake. Nor is the fear that permeates the small space, flowing out and hitting Shaun hard .
But the timing —
Shaun pauses. I keep my neck bared, my panting breaths the only sound.
“What happened?”
His voice is harsh… but not as harsh as it could be. Instead, it’s wary.
I keep my hands up, a barrier between the two of us that he doesn’t miss. “I don’t know. I got really hot, and everything was too much, and the phone was ringing and ringing and it made my head hurt—,”
Shaun swears over my babbling, low and vicious as he reaches in and hauls me out, his hand wrapped around my arm. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”
Wrapping myself in a duvet for six hours will do that.
I blink, forcing haziness to my face as I sway. “ Hurts .”
“Okay.” His grip isn’t tight, but it’s not exactly gentle, either. “Rory!”
Ellis appears instead. He doesn’t look concerned as he lounges in the doorway, cold eyes sweeping me. “She’s here, then. What happened to dinner?”
“She’s not well,” Shaun grounds out. “Burning up. Could be a heat spike.”
Ellis rolls his eyes. “We’d smell it. And feel it. I don’t feel anything apart from hungry.”
I clutch my stomach, turning to cling to Shaun. “ Hurts .”
“Honestly.” Cold hands grab me and pull me back. I sag against Ellis, my perfume flooding out in unfeigned fear as he drags me away from Shaun. My stomach flips.
“Where are we going?”
“To cool you down.”
He pulls me into the bathroom and thrusts me into the shower. My hands slap against the cold tiles. “ Stay .”
He doesn’t say it. He barks it at me, and I lock into place as he reaches in to turn the shower on.
Water pours over me, drenching me within seconds. My hair, my dress, everything is soaked. And… it’s cold .
My teeth start to chatter. “Ellis…,”
He watches me, his head tilted to the side. “Feeling better?”
My nod is rapid. My body begins to shake as more water pelts down over my head. “B-better now.”
“Good.” His smile is nothing short of sadistic. “You can stay there for a little while.”
He turns… and he walks away, closing the door behind him.
I stay where I am as the water keeps going. And going.
And going.
I don’t know how long passes before the door opens again. “Fallon?”
I stare at Rory, trying to form the words. But my lips feel numb. He darts into the shower, slapping his hand to turn the water off. “What the hell?”
I can’t stop the shaking. It takes over, every part of me vibrating with cold and fear as he reaches for a towel and wraps it around me. “E-Ellis left me.”
Even my blinking feels slow, my words slurring. Rory pauses to look at my face. Something flits across his expression too quickly to see. “He didn’t mean to leave you. He… he forgot, Fallon. That’s all.”
But we both know he didn’t forget about me. Rory steps closer, and I flinch.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” A devastated look fills his eyes. “I would never hurt you, Fallon.”
The shaking is getting worse. And the pain – pins and needles ripple through my legs, my arms, my teeth chattering so loudly it becomes audible.
It shifts from a dulled pain to searing agony, and I whimper into Rory as he steps closer, his hands rubbing at my arms. I can taste my own distress in the air as he lifts me.
“I’ve got you.” He carries me into the bedroom. “You’ll be fine in a minute. You just need to warm up.”
He undresses me silently, getting another towel for my hair before he settles me back in the bed and drags his quilted coverlet over me. The shivering grows worse as he leans over to feel my forehead. “You might need a doctor.”
I shake my head, fighting off the ache that appears. I don’t want a doctor. I just need to get warm .
Rory scans me and sighs. The bed beside me dips as he sinks into it, his hand tracing over my face and into my damp hair. “Always getting yourself into trouble, aren’t you?”
The lump that appears in my throat grows. And grows, until I couldn’t say anything in response, even if I wanted to.
Because there is nothing I can say that Rory would want to hear. He has no interest in the truth. He only sees what he wants to see.
His lips press to my forehead. “Get some sleep. Let the others sort their own dinner tonight.”
It’s almost teasing. I don’t respond, my eyes closing.
One month.
I’ll go to Ink & Quill tomorrow, and in a month – hopefully – I’ll have enough to run.
And I won’t look back.