I blink as I look at the table. I never checked. “I think she has.”
“Mm,” is all she responds with before clearing her throat. “I feel we’ve done you a disservice, Apollo.” Her voice softens, and I look up at her. She’s either doing an excellent job portraying someone with sympathy. Or is genuinely concerned. “I didn’t realize how unstable Scout was before we elected her for the role of your appointed. And now? Well, my fear is that she’s going to need more…supervisedcare.”
“Care?” I ask, confused. My brow twitches.
“Maybe your wife needs a stay at the mental health wellness program. Inpatient. For better, morelong-termtreatment.”
I almost choke on my breath. “Oh?” I whisper, terror overtaking me.
“Yes.”
“I don’t think she needs that.” I say it aloud, but it’s as if I haven’t even spoken.
President Damon’s head tilts with concern. “Don’t you want her to get better for you? For her stallion?”
The word jolts through my chest like I’ve been shot. It feels as if a bucket of ice water was just poured over my head.
And that’s when I know…
“Maybe you’re right. I appreciate you taking the time to visit us and set everything up. Let me talk with Scout. I’ll convince her to do the right thing.”
“That’swhy you’re the president ofDelta. Thechosenleader.” She sticks out her hand for me to shake. “I’ll be in touch.”
With my stomach in knots, I stroll straight back to Scout’s room. Her parents are just outside the door, talking on their phones. G gives me a head nod and opens the curtain for me to enter.
Scout’s face brightens as I step inside. “Hi!”
I wave my hand hurriedly through the air, then hold a finger to my lips. Leaning over, I brush back some of her hair from her face. My lips find her ear, and I whisper with all the desperation I can muster.
“Act normal. We’re being watched.”
thirty-four
After an IV filledwith saline and getting poked several times, as well as five stitches in my arm, I’m in the back of my dad’s truck with my husband.
They said the syringe was filled with some kind of opiate.And my safety exam was, fortunately, negative for anyone else’s DNA. They couldn’t find evidence of anything on me (or in me), though the campus police “are taking this seriously.”
Mom’s up front, clinging to my dad’s hand, though she keeps reaching behind her to squeeze my knee. Like she’s making sure I’m alive.
Apollo’s thumbs dig into my feet, rubbing circles in a soothing motion. But he stares out the window. Deep in thought.
“Maybe the cameras on campus? The indoor soccer fields?” he mumbles to himself.
I nod slowly. “Could be.”
“What do you want, Scoutie? Soup or milkshakes?Cake? I can bake a cake,” Mom says, like she doesn’t know what to do.
“I’m no—” I start to dismiss it, but Apollo interrupts with a squeeze of my calf muscle.
“Cake sounds amazing.”
I take a deep breath. He’s probably hungry. But the more I consider the side of his serious face, the more I wonder if he agreed because he knows my mom feels most at ease when she’s useful.
And that makes my heart latch onto him.
It’s not just the protector within him. The times he’s rescued me.
Apollo Christos Griffin is an extremely kind and caring person. A facet of his personality I don’t think he allows many people to see.
