Page 121 of Creed

Rolf smirks and shuts my door. I close my eyes, lying my seat back, willing myself not to puke in his vehicle.

“Drive fast, big guy,” I call him big guy, like Nexin always does, and he half-grunts and half-laughs.

I keep my eyes shut as we start moving. “Where are you from?” I ask, trying to focus on something other than my swirling guts.

“Lots of places.”

“A man of few words.”

“I was born and raised in Germany. Most recently, I lived in Boston and Montana.”

“Montana?” I frown.

“Worked on a cattle ranch for six months.”

I burst out laughing, keeping my eyes closed. “You? A ranch hand?”

“Yep.”

The guy is huge—not fat or anything—but a tower of broad muscle.

“Did you rustle those cattle by their sheer fear of you?”

He rumbles a laugh.

“Doctor. Security personnel. Ranch hand. That’s quite the resume,” I list off what I’ve learned about him in the past few days.

He’s quiet, but I can almost hear his smirk. Even if I wanted to pry for more details, I couldn’t because another wave of cramping contractions hits me. I struggle to breathe.

“Try to breathe through it,” he says as we turn a corner. “Holding your breath and tensing will make it worse.”

“What, are you my freaking Lamaze coach?” I grouse, then groan as another wave hits me. “Good god, remind me never to have a kid.” Another wave of nausea floods my mouth with saliva. “Drive faster.”

We don’t chat anymore, and when Rolf parks and opens the door to help me out, I see he’s parked illegally in the service truck spot behind my building.

“I can make it from here.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” He holds my elbow and steadies me. I’m weak and shivering so bad my teeth will probably clatter.

I get my keys out, and we enter the back door at the end of the building where my room is. This entrance doesn’t have an elevator, and I’m sweating profusely by the time I get up the stairs. I get my keys in the door to my dorm room and push in.

Sophie isn’t there—not that I truly expected her to be—but that reminder makes my knees almost buckle.

Rolf helps me to my bed and then checks the closets. Next, he checks that the window is shut and locked, before he turns to me. “Drink fluids and make sure you lock your door when I leave. I’ll be outside the building; call if you need anything.”

“Rolf…” I swallow thickly. “I need you to go because I’m for sure going to hurl now.”

He holds up his big hands. “Alright, a guy can take a hint.”

I laugh, then groan, waving my hand frantically at him to go. He leaves, and I lock the door behind him, then race to the waste bin.

I groan and curl into a fetal position. It’s black in my room, but I don’t know what time it is. I'm soaked from sweating and recall that after I had put my contaminated waste bin out in the hall, I crawled under my electric blanket. I feel a bit better so the sweat is also partly due to my fever breaking.

I stumble out of bed and strip down to my T-shirt and panties. My sheets are wet from my overheating. I’ll get another chill if I try to sleep in my bed with wet bedding, and I have zero energy to change it right now.

I stumble over to Sophie’s bed, pull down her blankets, and climb in. My head pounds. I need some painkillers and something to drink, but I don’t have the energy to get up, so I close my eyes and let sleep pull me under again.

Sometime later, or shortly after, maybe, as I have no sense of time, something startles me awake.

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