Page 54 of The Night Shift
“I was perfectly fine walking home by myself.”
“You would’ve fallen sick,” he counters.
“And that’s none of your concern. Change the song. Now.”
“Hey, Hol?” He looks at me, his blue eyes sweeping across my face.
“What?”
“I don’t like being told what to do,” he says, mimicking my earlier remark.
“Would you respond well to keeping your head attached to your body?” The second those words make their way out of my mouth, I regret it with every fiber in my body. Not the best thing to say to someone when I might have a potential stalker on the loose.
Theo reverts his attention to the traffic, subtly pressingNexton the stereo, and doesn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.
My shoulders relax a little, the thud of my heart settling as I lean back against the leather seat and shut my eyes and start to lose myself in the black box of memories I so deeply crave to escape.
It’s 2 a.m. I’m in my bed trying to fall asleep when I hear my phone ring. After a minute or so it stops. And then starts again.
I rub my eyes and grab it from underneath my pillow. “Hello?” My voice comes out all gravelly.
No response.
“Aanya?” I sit up immediately, my phone nestled in between my shoulder and ear. “Aanya, what’s going on?”
I hear a bit of commotion on her end. Maybe some cars and yelling. Definitely lots of yelling. “Where are you? Are you still at the party?”
“H-hospital.”
“What?” I try to keep my voice down. What the fuck? “Hospital? Which hospital?”
Silence.
“Aanya?”
“C-campus.”
I ruffle through my blanket and put on the first top I find lying on my chair. She’s still on the line, not speaking. “What happened?” I ask her.
No response. The sickest feeling of dread falls over me.
“Aanya, what happened?”
She starts to cry.
I feel an intense desperation to crawl out of my skin. Tears threaten to run down my cheeks, and I force myself back to the present. Back to reality. I need to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anyoneelse.
A few minutes later, the car comes to an abrupt halt and Theo turns to face me, “Home sweet home,” he says.
Quickly unbuckling my seatbelt, I pull on the door handle but before I can swing it open, I hear a click from the driver's side. The door's locked.
“Not so fast,” Theo says.
At this point, I’m convinced the man is borderline suicidal. “Whatnow?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Please don’t make me hit you.”
