Page 77 of Wicked Little Darling

I placed a kiss in the center of his palm and looked into his eyes. “You need help,” I said softly. He was panting, completely out of breath, and beads of sweat were dripping down his face. His eyes rolled back, tears poured from the corners, and then they closed.

Fuck.

“Reese, wake up.” I patted his cheek and tried to get him to open his eyes again, but he didn’t.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Val.

“Hey—”

“Can you call Dr. Burns and get him over here right now? And get some cold and flu medicine?”

“Whoa, why? Are you sick?”

“No, Reese is sick. Or I’m pretty sure he’s sick, but I need Dr. Burns since he doesn’t want to go to a hospital.”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can go grab some stuff from the store. Does he have a fever?”

“Yeah, I think he does, he’s burning up. Just get everything. Right now.”

Val laughed. “Jeez, okay. I’m going now and calling Dr. Burns. See you soon.”

I said goodbye and shoved the phone back into my pocket, then tried one last time to get Reese to wake up and stay conscious. “Hey. I’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

He didn’t respond.

I brushed the damp strands of hair away from his forehead. He was really hot.

I slid one arm under his knees and the other behind his shoulders, then hauled him up against my chest as I stood. Reese groaned but didn’t move. “Alright, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you feeling better really soon, I promise.”

I brought him to his bed, gently laid him down, and pulled his blanket over him. He shivered and hunched into himself.

I stared at him for a long moment, then dashed to the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and set it on his forehead. He definitely had a fever, and if it was too high, I was taking him to the hospital whether he wanted me to or not. We could fight about it later. Right now, he needed help.

Just as I sat down on the edge of my bed, there was a knock at the door. I jumped up and yanked it open, letting Val in.

He set two bags on my bed and started digging through one. “Okay, I got tons of stuff and Dr. Burns is on his way.” He glanced over at Reese, then me. “You okay?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I just…”

Was terrified. Still in shock from thinking Reese was lying dead in that tub. The intensity of all these chaotic emotions was too much to handle right now. I had to ignore them. Shove them aside, bury them, whatever.

But fuck if they weren’t fighting me tooth and nail for dominance.

Val was still staring at me, so I said, “I just…I thought he was dead.”

Voicing the fear suddenly made it so real that it was crushing, and I sat down on my bed when the world started to tilt.

Val squeezed my shoulder and kissed my head. “It’s okay. He’ll be alright.”

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t swallow past the lump in my throat. I nodded and watched Val take things out of the bag and place them neatly on my desk.

We only waited about ten more minutes before Dr. Burns showed up. He was slightly out of breath from taking the stairs—there weren’t elevators in this building—but he still smiled at us.

“Boys, good to see you. Glad you’re healthy, Valentine.” He bustled into the room and set his bag on my bed, then rummaged through it. “So we think he’s sick? Let’s take a look.”

He turned toward Reese with several pieces of equipment, the first being a thermometer.

He sat down on the edge of Reese’s bed, moved the washcloth aside,and took his temperature. “One-oh-one. Not too bad for a fever.”