Page 260 of Small Town Firsts

“Who?”

Thankfully, she understands what I’m asking, despite not being able to string more than two words together in a sentence.

“That’s Samson. He’s a... he’s someone I know. He brought us home, and he’s going to help get you inside, okay?”

My pulse hammers at the thought of some random guy touching me, but Stella’s quick to soothe my distress.

“I’ve known him since I was in diapers. He won’t hurt you. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper, and she moves out of the doorway, making room for Samson to try again.

I whimper when his broad shoulders obscure my vision. He grits his teeth and asks, “You gonna try and kick me again?”

Just breathe. He’s not going to hurt you.“No.”

He leans into the car and helps me out and onto my feet. “I’ve got it,” I say, even as my knees wobble beneath me. Gritting my teeth, I press my palm into the side of the car and focus on breathing and holding myself up.

“Are you good to head inside?” Stella asks.

“I, um. Yes, I think.”

“I’ll help you.” Stella wraps an arm around my waist, and I wrap mine around her shoulders. Every step is grueling, not because I’m hurt but because I’m tired. Like down to my bones, through my marrow, to my soul tired.

We slowly make our way from the parking lot to the dorm building. At the door, Samson turns to us. “Gonna need your card, Luna.”

“It’s in my back pocket.”

He balks, looking unsure.

“Oh my God!” Stella cries. “It’s a freaking pocket. You might graze a little ass cheek. It won’t kill you.”

“It fuckin’ might,” he grumbles before sliding his hand into her pocket.

A wave of dizziness rushes me, and I sway in Stella’s arms.

“Whoa! You okay?”

I nod. Or at least I think I nod. “Just need to... bed.”

“Are you sure she isn’t on something?”

“Positive,” Stella growls, helping me over the threshold and into the lobby. “Now either call the elevator or go home. We don’t need your negativity.”

“No, just my ride.” He’s all attitude as he swaggers ahead of us toward the elevator. He curls his hand into a fist and pops the side of it against theuparrow.

Inside, he repeats the gesture, hitting the button for the third floor. The contents of my stomach rush up toward my throat as the cables begin pulling us higher. I gag a little as I slap my free hand over my mouth.

“Swear to God, if she pukes on me…”

“Stop being an asshole, Samson!” Stella scolds, already sounding like the teacher she’s studying to become.

I force myself to swallow. “I’m fine.”

In our suite, Stella helps me into my bed with a promise to check on me in five minutes. I wave her away, too exhausted to care about anything other than my head hitting the pillow.

Only, when I close my eyes, he’s there, waiting and ready to torture me some more.

“You deserve every single thing coming your way,” his voice taunts,wrapping around my body like a vise, squeezing and squeezing, tighter and tighter, until all of the air is expelled from my lungs.

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