𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉

[Chapter 7] Clearly She's Concussed

I rush back down the now empty stairs, thankfully with no one following me.
"Would you just wait? I'm trying, Frenchie." I hear somebody exclaim indignantly followed by Anna shouting in French.
I nearly facepalm but instead run a hand through my hair. I totally forgot about Anna being imprisoned.
I step off the stairs, ignoring Hunter now making out with his girlfriend by the front door and make my way back down the hallway.
Sure enough, there's the guy from before still attempting to pull the bobby pins out. "Just shut up for a minute, I can't concentrate!" he huffs in annoyance as Anne wails even louder.
"Let me try." I scowl, walking over and shooing him out of the way.
He shrugs and gestures to the knob, stepping back. "Be my guest."
I securely wrap my hand around the bobby pins and inhale, attempting to calm my heart that is currently threatening to beat right out of my chest. "One, two—"
"So, where'd you run off to?" the guy interrupts my attempt to focus and center myself causing me to press my lips together in frustration.
I decide to ignore his question and instead yank intensely on the bobby pins before deciding pliers HAVE to be more effective.
"Upstairs?" he presses further and I glance sideways at him. "What makes you say that?"
I release the bobby pins with a grimace towards the imprints on my skin.
He snorts in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Please. I know the sound of a fight when I hear it."
I scowl, remembering the horrors I just witnessed and endured as I walk away to open the supply closet door. "Yeah, well. I was involved against my will so. I'd rather not know the sound of it."
Lake.
A chill spreads over me—and it's not from my lack of a jacket.
The guy shrugs indifferently, following me with his hands in the pockets of his way-too-low-rise jeans. "Just saying. I could probably guess who it was and everything."
I flip the light switch on. "That's fascinating, but again. I'd rather not know."
"There's only one person—" the guy holds up a meaningful finger, "—only one that would have the balls to start a fight in Hunter Blake's house without permission."
Before he even says it, I already know.
"Lake." I find myself saying, feeling like there's some deeper cryptic truth this dude is alluding to.
He nods wisely, as if he somehow knows exactly what went down on the second floor not even ten minutes ago. "Lake."
I attempt to distract myself from his eerie tone as a well as collect my scattered thoughts by looking around for the tool bag I know Mom has around here somewhere.
"Sooo...all this talk about names and I still don't know yours," he comments casually, innocently clasping his hands behind his back.
I scoff, pulling open and rummaging through some of the larger drawers. "Does that line ever actually work?"
"You'd be surprised," he replies, looking very pleased with himself. "Well, for what it's worth—I'm Trace."
"Nice to meet you," I respond automatically, not meaning it in the slightest as I locate the tool bag on the top shelf.
The very top shelf, of course.
I extend my arm up and try my best to reach it, not seeing a ladder anywhere nearby.
"Nice to meet you too...um, do you want me to get that for you?" Trace asks from behind me.
"No, thank you," I huff, stretching my fingers
out to the point that they start to ache. Almost. Got. It.

I am not some helpless damsel.

"Are you sure—"
I finally lay a hand on the strap of the tool-bag and for a split second, triumph surges through my veins as it finally feels like one thing is going my way tonight but that high is quickly extinguished as my fingertips attempt to bring the tool-bag down slowly and safely but instead—I bring it crashing down at a rapid pace—right onto the top of my head.
Needless to say, that's the last thing I remember.

~

My eyes fly open at the sound of a loud scream.

The heaviness of deep sleep looms over me as I sit up straight in bed, realizing I'm somehow in my dorm room.

Confused on how I got here, confused on how long I've been asleep, confused as to who's screaming---the only thing I know for sure is my head is killing me.