Page 20 of Until Presley

I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming relief when I learned she was okay, but the devastation on her face was almost too much for me. She didn’t even look up at me until I had her in my arms. The professor told me it was her friend Leah who was killed. He didn’t say more, and I don’t know what happened, but as I hold my girl and move us through the crowd toward my Jeep, her silent tears roll down my neck. Her body trembles, andI hold her tighter, feeling like she’s going to shatter apart in my arms.

“Baby, where are the keys for your car?” I ask when we reach our vehicles. I parked next to her.

“Hooked to my bag,” she says softly, her lips pressing against my throat.

Otto unclips them from the bag in my hand.

“Take her car to the shop. I’m taking her to my house.”

“No, I should go home. You don’t want to be with me through this.”

“Not happening, baby. The press already has your name because that bitch Margo told them. You’ll be safe at my place.” I pray she doesn’t argue with me more.

“Okay.” She agrees.

I take a deep breath, and my nerves settle a bit. I get my Jeep door open and sit her in the seat. She doesn’t want to let me go.

“Sprite, I need to drive. I promise as soon as we get home, I’ll hold you all night.”

“Okay,” she says softly and lets me go. Her beautiful eyes, swollen and red, look up at me. I lean in to kiss her, but she quickly covers her mouth. “I threw up. I need to brush my teeth.” I press a kiss to her nose and then her forehead.

“I got a spare you can use.”

I buckle her in and then make my way to the driver’s side. As I glance back, I see the reporters still milling around. I hope I can get her home without anyone following us, but if not, I have security and a private place for her to mourn.

When I pull out of the parking lot, I check that we aren’t being followed before making my way to my place. I park the Jeep inside the garage to keep it out of view.

Presley hasn’t spoken or asked more about where we are going. She just stares ahead, and I’m beginning to worry abouther. I remember when Walker went through something similar to this with Hanna and how useless he felt.

I open her door, and she turns to look at me. Her eyes don’t have their normal green sparkle to them. Instead, they are almost a dull greenish-gray and full of pain. I reach over her and release the seatbelt. She leans into me, and I lift her up into my arms. My mom is out tonight, having dinner with Win. I move through the house and up to my bedroom.

After helping Presley strip out of her swimsuit and shorts, I slip one of my T-shirts over her head. She pulls up the neck and inhales deeply, and I watch as a calmness settles over her. I help her into the bathroom, where I hand her a spare toothbrush. After she’s done freshening up, I carry her to the bed and flip back the comforter before gently laying her down. She pulls the ponytail from her hair, and I watch as her blond strands fall across my black sheets. A small weight lifts off my chest. I thought I lost her. I thought a shark had taken her, but then I heard it wasn’t anyone on the boat. It was her friend. My heart hurts for her.

I kick off my shoes, strip down to my boxers, and climb into bed next to her. I hold her as she rests in my arms. She falls asleep but wakes up several times, screaming and crying.

“They took her arm. Her eyes wouldn’t stop staring at me,” she cries as she claws at me, trying to climb into my body.

“Shh, baby, I got you. Rest, and I’ll go make us some food. You need to eat.”

“You promise you won’t leave me?” She sounds so sad and childlike.

“I’ll just be downstairs, but I won’t go until you fall asleep again.”

“Okay.”

My mother sits at the table and watches me as I move around the kitchen.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know, but I do know I’ll help her through this.”

“Ham, it’s so sad. Her friend attacked by?—”

Presley’s phone goes off again, interrupting my mom’s thought.

I look at the screen. It’s her dad. I know he’s not going to stop calling. The police called, and I asked them to give her a day before they come to talk to her.

“Hello,” I answer her phone.

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