Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“No way. Not after that shit, at least not alone.”
I sighed. “Be safe.”
“Always.”
I rolled my eyes, hoping all he wanted was a few drinks and a hookup. One brother in trouble was all I could manage at a time.
5
ALEX
“Get back in here, Hebert. I want to talk to you.”
Randall was so drunk he was slurring his words and swaying. I doubted talking was what was on his mind. He’d hated me since we’d pledged together last year. I didn’t have time for this—our first assignment for Dr. Theriot was past due now, but if I turned it in by midnight, I’d just get a ten-point deduction.
Randall grabbed me before I could make it out the door of the lounge. Fuck. I did not want to do this. “What’s your problem?”
“You following Ellie around. Thinking she’s into you. She’s mine.”
“No. She’s not interested in you. I walked her home. That’s all.”
“Liar. I’ve seen you with her.”
We’d eaten lunch a few times because she was in my psych class. “Leave her alone.”
He roared and smashed the bottle in his hand against a table. I fought to get away, but before I could, he brought the broken bottle down, slashing it across my face.
“What the fuck, Randall?” His friend Thad grabbed him, trying to get him off me.
“Fuck you,” I yelled. When my arm was free, I punched him in the jaw. He fell back, hit his head on a table, and slumped to the floor.
He lay unmoving, and for a moment, I worried I’d killed him.
“Is he okay?” Mitch had appeared beside me.
Randall stirred then, and Thad gestured toward the door. “You better get out of here.”
Part of me wanted to stay and have it out, and part of me wished he were dead, but Mitch tugged me into Clyde and Thomas’s room, which was next to the lounge.
Once we were in the room, I began to realize how badly my face hurt. Blood was running down my cheek, and I looked around for something to press against the cut and staunch the bleeding. I quickly realized nothing in this room was clean enough to risk. So I pressed my hand against my face.
Clyde’s eyes were huge as he watched me. “Shit, Alex. That looks deep.”
“No shit,” Mitch said. “That’s what happens when somebody slashes your face with a broken bottle.”
“You probably need stitches, man,” Thomas said. “You don’t want that scar.”
No, of course not. I had to stay perfectly unmarred for the sake of the family. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a murmur. Was I in shock?
“What?” Mitch tilted his head, studying me.
I shook my head. “Nothing.” My cheek was throbbing. I needed to at least wash the cut out, make sure there wasn’t any glass caught in it. Did I really need stitches?
When I tried to stand up, the room spun around me. I reached for the edge of Clyde’s desk so I could stay upright.
“Man, are you all right?” Mitch asked.
“I’m fine.” I held tightly to the doorframe. My feet didn’t seem to want to stay under me, and my knees didn’t want to work.
“Fuck, man, you’re about to pass out.”
I sank to the floor and leaned back against the wall. “I’ll be fine.”
“What happened in there?” Thomas asked.
Mitch explained, which was good because I couldn’t seem to string two thoughts together. “Randall got pissed that Alex took Ellie home last weekend and then had lunch with her. He’s a fucking idiot.”
Thomas knelt beside me and gently pulled my hand away from my cheek. He sucked in his breath when he saw the wound. “Fuck, Alex, that looks bad.”
He had to be exaggerating. I let my head drop back and tried to take a slow breath. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I so lightheaded? It was just a cut.
“It’s bad, Alex,” Mitch confirmed. “I think you need stitches.” He held out a hand. “Come on. We’re going to go get you taken care of.”
“Fuck, no. I don’t want to go to the emergency room.”
“They might have the emergency clinic at Student Health,” one of the other guys said.
At that point, I wasn’t really tracking everything that was going on.
When was the last time I’d eaten or had any water? Fuck, I wasn’t sure. Then I remembered I had been about to finish my essay for Dr. Theriot. “I don’t have time for stitches. I’ve got homework to do.”
“Jesus, Alex,” Thomas said. “You’re not doing homework in this state, and I don’t think any of your profs want your face to fall apart.”
“No, it’s your best asset. Go get it taken care of.” Was that Clyde speaking?
“Call Rob. He can sew me up.” Rob was a Chi Rho who was in medical school now. His brother was in our pledge class. “My uncle might be at the ER.” My uncle was a trauma surgeon at the local hospital, and I did not want him to know about this, at least not right now.