I Like You a Latte {Completed}

33 | Opening the Door

Beverly approached her dorm room cautiously, her heart pounding furiously in her chest as she stepped up to the door. Jiggling the knob, she was pleased to find it locked. Hopefully, Deb was safe inside.

Snatching her key from her bag, she unlocked the door, opening it and creeping inside slowly. A quick scan of the interior found Deb huddled on Beverly's bed, the fingers of one hand twisting the comforter anxiously, her other hand pressing a towel to her leg.

"Thank God!" she cried, just as Beverly closed the door and exclaimed, "God, am I glad to see you!"

Locking the door, Beverly threw her backpack down on the floor and collapsed next to Deb with a weary sigh. "I thought you'd been kidnapped," she confessed, her head bumping against the wall as she flattened herself out over the blankets.

Deb shook her head, leaning forward with a slight grimace. "Not yet," she joked weakly, but Beverly wasn't listening, her eyes trained on the navy blue towel. Or, rather, the obvious dark red saturation on the towel.

"Deborah," she began slowly, "what's wrong with your leg?"

Her roommate, ever the tough bitch, huffed, though even that noise was riddle with obvious exhaustion. "They didn't kidnap me," she grunted, "but they tried. Nailed me with a knife, I think. It was sharp, I damn well know that much." After a beat, she met Beverly's eyes, her gaze somber as she murmured, "They're on campus. They'll find us soon."

Beverly swallowed audibly.

We're running out of time.

"We need this to end soon," Deb announced.

"Hopefully, it will," Beverly sighed, standing from the bed to peek through the blinds of their only window, pleased when she didn't see any suspicious characters in the grounds below. The view only accounted for a small portion of the building's surrounding land, but every bit helped. "I gave a friend my phone with the text from Dennis, which will act as evidence. Francis is working with the police to get Harris locked up, and . . ." she trailed off, swinging her gaze to the door.

The same door that was currently producing the sound of footsteps from its other side.

"Crap," she breathed, snatching up the baseball bat near the door that her dad had given her when she'd first moved onto campus. "Already?" Sharing a nervous glance with Deb, she hefted the baseball bat, positioning her body so she would be hidden by the door if it was forced open.

The footsteps came to a halt, and the noise of someone panting replaced them. Then, the person knocked on the door four times.

Deb jolted at the sudden sound, and Beverly had to pull one hand from the bat and slap it against her mouth to stop a startled screech from slipping past her own lips. Another scared glance went between the two girls, along with a hissed conversation:

"Open it!"

"Why the Hell would I open it?!"

"Because if you don't open it, they'll just barge in!"

"Well then why don't you open it?"

"I'm bleeding out like a goddamned stuck pig, Beverly! Open the door!"

"This isn't like just getting a pizza, Deborah!"

"Of course it's not, but if you don't open that damned door then—"

"Beverly?"

Beverly was unable to stop her squeal when she heard the sound of her name, though her tense shoulders fell when the voice continued, "It's Griffin, Beverly. Are you alright?"