Page 79 of Ruthless Dream

“She’s in the bathroom.” I jerk my head in the direction of the bedroom.

The guards conduct their own sweep, but Gia lifts a hand, silently telling them not to enter the bedroom.

With her brow puzzled together, she turns her back, marching toward her daughter. Leaving me alone with two guards who stare me down in my own living room.

CHAPTER 19

Adeline

Iam death. Or death is me.

I honestly have no clue, but this is bad. So bad.

It’s a humbling experience, stomach issues.

I had felt weird most of the afternoon, but I chalked it up to the mounting assignments due before Thanksgiving. We’re only a few weeks away from midterms, and I have to do well.

I’d pushed through, and everything felt fine when I’d come over. I drifted off to sleep, but my stomach had started to curl in on itself, twisting painfully.

I’d flown to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

I’m tired. So fucking tired. I couldn’t do anything but puke. This place is now my home. My cheek pressed against the cool tile as I drifted off to a desperate sleep.

There’s a knock on the door, and I moan, squeezing my eyes shut. Ciaran has been sweet, but I am burning with exhaustion and embarrassment. As it is, I’ve always been aware that his tiny apartment leaves little to the imagination.

I’m sorry if he’s got to pee or something, but he’s just going to have to hold it. Or better yet, maybe he could just leave. Surely, he’s got a meeting or something that he could go deal with. That would give me time to get it all together, and I’d be able to clean up the mess, air out the place, and run back to my dorm before he came back home.

I’m so tired Rina’s masturbating and Trish’s heavy metal won’t matter at all.

The knock continues.

“No,” I moan. “Please just go away.”

“Adeline.” A soft voice caresses me.

“Mama?” Am I dreaming?

“Open the door, Ads.”

I’m wearing a T-shirt I grabbed out of Ciaran’s hamper because apparently it is weird to puke naked. Thank God it covers most of me.

I slide toward the door, my muscles tweaking as I reach up and turn the door handle.

My mom spots me on the ground. She’s immaculate as always, her hair freshly highlighted and her makeup perfected. She blinks down at her youngest daughter, a disgrace to the Akatov name because I’ve just desecrated my boyfriend’s bathroom.

“It smells horrible,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”

Mom comes in, careful to not step on me. She sinks to her knees, brushing my hair back.

Her eyes swim with tenderness as she stares at me. And then, because we can’t take anything seriously, we both start to giggle.

I drop my head back to the ground. “No, stop it!”

She continues to run a hand through my hair.

“Oh God!” I pop up, twitching at the movement. “We were supposed to grab breakfast!”

Now I understand why she’s shown up. The moment I missed it, and because I hadn't looked at my phone in hours, Mom would start to worry. She must have called Marco, who informed her I hadn’t left Ciaran’s apartment. God, there’s no telling what she said when she showed up.