“Thank you.”
“Are you sure everything’s alright?”
“Yeah,” I reply weakly.
“Take the rest of the night off and let us know if any of your symptoms increase in intensity. You know there are plenty of members who would be more than eager to help soothe you.”
Too bad the members I want to soothe me are nowhere to be found.
“Thanks again,” I say.
I grab the door, taking my time to close it behind me. I swear I hear him make a phone call as I’m shutting the door and mentioning how he has an urgent problem.
I can’t imagine being a manager is a very fun gig.
I’m absolutely miserable in my room as my phone buzzes on my nightstand. My stupid heart hopes that it’s Cillian, but it’s not.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Is this Elena Amante?”
“It is.”
“Your prescription is ready for pickup,” the caller says in a strained voice.
“It’s 11 p.m.”
“Yes, we’ve adjusted our hours to deal with the overflow of prescriptions coming in. Would you be able to pick it up tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right over.”
The line goes dead, and I roll my eyes. I’m never putting in a prescription with that pharmacy ever again. I guess I won’t have to. I’m going to sell my heat and make enough money to really hide. Maybe the Pacific Northwest or Texas. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do when I get there, but it’s better than feeling as alone as I do here while constantly looking over my shoulder.
I can’t do this anymore.
I’m still in my dress for the night, but throw on a sweater before leaving the club. The pharmacy is only a few blocks away, and it’s late. It’ll be harder to distinguish who’s who, anyway.
Part of me hopes that Declan is looking out for me, but I don’t hold my breath. I’ll need to make this quick.
Roger opens the door for me but frowns.
“Should you be walking around this late?”
“I’m just running out to get my medicine. I should be back in twenty minutes.”
He looks around like he wants to offer to escort me but knows he has a job to do.
“Call me if you have any issues.”
“Thanks, Roger.” I give him a smile as I wrap my arms around myself and begin my trek to the store.
At least with my suppressants, I won’t feel completely hopeless. Maybe I’ll feel somewhat normal again and start having more rational thoughts—unlikely.
The store echoes with a ding as I enter, walking to the back where the pharmacy is located. I’m nearly down the aisle when I see the silver-plated gate covering the desk, and my heart sinks. I back up slightly, ready to spin around and run back to the club. But when I turn around, I smack into a large chest, one with a very familiar scent.
“No. No. I’m not going back. Logan, let me go.”
I push off his chest, and he shakes his head.
