She grows more tense as I navigate the corridors of the hotel.
She’s worried I’m going to fuck her—as she should be. Her terror is intoxicating, and I want to drink it in for as long as possible.
We reach our destination too soon for my liking.
“Let me do the talking,” I say, pinning Allie with a glare that hopefully reminds her of what happens when she doesn’t obey me. She nods.
Adjusting her in my arms, I open the door to the hotel’s nurse station to find an empty waiting room. There are a few chairs in the seating area and a half-dead Ficus, but nobody is sitting at the receptionist’s desk.
I walk over and ring the bell impatiently.
There’s shuffling in the back, then a woman emerges from a door behind the desk.
She looks in her thirties, dressed in purple scrubs with her dark hair tied back. Her expression is guarded, like she’s sizing us up.
“How can I help you two?” She holds the door open as I carry Allie into the adjacent room.
It’s a small room furnished with an examination table, a desk and a pair of chairs. The lights are too bright, and the duck green walls are peeling.
I grimace. Definitely not a five-star hotel.
I set Allie down on the examination table, pulling up one chair to sit beside her. The nurse puts on a pair of gloves and takes her stethoscope from the hook on the wall.
She introduces herself as Melissa. I have no interest in letting her know my name.
We aren’t on campus, which means there’s no promise that we won’t be targeted. Though it’s unlikely to happen, I would rather be cautious. The gun in my room won’t be enough to protect us if somebody really wants me dead.
“She hit her head,” I say, gesturing to Allie.
Allie’s dread has turned into disorientation—she’s staring absently. I’m starting to doubt her story that she only had one drink. Her sentences may be coherent, but her reactions give her away as inebriated.
Melissa looks between Allie and I awkwardly.
“What happened?” she asks, walking over to Allie who has moved her hair to show her the part of her head she hit.
Melissa moves her hand to the area and Allie winces. “You’ve got a goose egg.”
The nurse’s eyes fall to her bandaged finger. She looks at me suspiciously.
In hindsight, I hadn’t considered the optics. She probably thinks I did this to Allie.
There’s no way in hell she’ll believe Allie did this to herself.
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would be hunting down the person who did this to her. I can’t have Melissa come away thinking this is a domestic violence situation.
She walks over to her desk and starts rooting in one of the cabinets. I sigh, and Allie’s eyes are wide as if she’s connected the dots too.
“Mind telling me how this happened?”
“The sex got a little rough,” I say, chuckling. “We stopped as soon as things started to get out of hand, but the damage was already done.”
Melissa spins around, quirking an eyebrow.
Allie looks mortified, but fortunately, that only serves to make my story seem more believable, so I double down on it. “Don’t let her innocent face fool you. She’s pretty fucking kinky. I don’t think I’m allowed to give you any more details.”
Allie looks like she wants to disappear.
Melissa roars with laughter, and that quells her suspicions. It felt too easy to deflect her. This is probably why women in trouble don’t often get help.