Chapter 13 #3
The weight is heavy against my palm, and the trigger is soft, and just as a face appears in my vision, I slam my fingers over the button and close my eyes so the pepper spray doesn’t get me too.
I hold it there, over and over, until suddenly the can is wrenched away from me, and when I roll over, gasping for air having gotten a bit of it on my face, I manage to peer through the haze of blood and realize that I completely fucked up.
Percy’s face is white with shock, his eyes closed against the assault, his skin shining bright in the lamplight, covered in glitter.
Percy’s eyes are red-rimmed and squinty as he presses a wad of wet paper towels to my forehead. The lights in my office are currently way too bright for me to deal with alongside this headache, but I’m alive, and that’s the only thing that matters.
Well, that and the fact that Percy isn’t currently trying to murder me for shooting him in the face with a pepper spray glitter gun.
Though that might change once the shock has worn off him.
I don’t even remember how we got to my office, though I must have told him because the lock isn’t busted, and everything seems to be in order. But everything also seems strange and fuzzy, like I’m in a dream.
‘Was I asleep?’ I ask.
His shoulders sag with a sigh. ‘Again, no.’ He does a good job of conveying his annoyance through facial expressions and his signs.
I grimace as things start to become a bit more clear. ‘I asked you that already?’
His lips twitch. ‘Yes. Three times. We’ve been in your office for twenty minutes, and yes, I’m pretty sure you have a concussion. Your head split open, but it’s not bleeding anymore, and I don’t think you need stitches.’
He signs the answers to the next questions I have, so I was probably in some kind of shock, though I think it’s starting to wear off.
Percy crouches in front of me and takes my face by the chin, turning me from left to right.
I don’t know what he’s looking for, but it’s not really a surprise that he knows this kind of first aid.
‘I’m going to take you home,’ he says once he’s satisfied.
I nod, the word spinning again as I try to sit forward. “Ouch,” I mutter, the word rumbling along the back of my throat.
He presses a hand to my chest. ‘Don’t get up. I’m going to help you.’
‘No,’ I argue back. ‘I can walk.’
I attempt to prove that to him, and he lets me.
Probably because he knows my next move is to drop to my knees and heave my guts up into my trash can.
Throwing up is almost more painful than having my head bashed on the concrete, and I grip the side of my desk as the nausea eventually starts to fade.
Luckily, there’s not much in my stomach, but I’m pretty sure I’m going on housekeeping’s shitlist after tonight.
I sit back and swipe my hand over my mouth, and that’s the moment my brain decides to remember why my head hurts so fucking bad.
My stalker. I turn my gaze up to Percy and feel a punch of relief that he looks a bit better than before. His eyes are less red now, and he’s not blinking as much. Or crying. And he’s less shiny.
‘The guy who attacked me…’ I start.
Percy’s face falls. ‘I thought I knocked him out, but when I was able to see again after you sprayed me—’
‘Sorry,’ I add quickly.
He gives me a stern look as he finishes. ‘He was gone. Do you know who it was?’
I bite my lip and shrug. ‘I’m not sure, but…maybe.’
He doesn’t ask me to elaborate. His brows furrow, and then he sighs. ‘I’m taking you home—’
‘Okay. My house keys are in my bag…’
‘With me,’ he adds.
My hands drop, and then they fly up again. ‘No. I want to go to my house.’
He laughs. I can’t hear the sound, but I know it’s probably mocking. ‘No. Not after tonight. You’re not safe there, and Archie will kill me if I take you back to your place without him.’
My heart gives a heavy thud. Archie. ‘Where is he? How did you find me?’
‘I got your message on the café line,’ he says, his fingers flicking stiffly through the signs. ‘I called Archie, but he didn’t answer. He puts his phone on silent when he’s asleep. You can go to his room when we get home.’
He signs home like it’s ours, not his, and I don’t really know what to make of it. But I’m not in the mood to argue. I’m not really in the mood to be at my place by myself, either, now that I think about it.
He’s right. I’m not safe by myself. And frankly, I want to be in Archie’s arms and fall apart there as I let the real shock of everything hit me.
Climbing to my feet, I fumble in my top desk drawer for some gum to get rid of the sour taste in my mouth, then take a single step forward. Moving is a bit easier now, but Percy doesn’t let me go far before throwing his arm around my waist.
‘Can you see enough to drive?’ I ask.
He rolls his eyes, which are still very red. ‘I’m fine. I’ve had worse.’
I don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to know. All I want is to get out of here and go somewhere safe. And safe for me right now means in Archie’s bed, with a coffin ten feet away and his warm arms holding me so I can finally shake apart.