One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

I let my own tears fall at the sight of his losing the battle to hold back. My eyes follow his tears as they trace down the curves of his handsome face.

“Please,” I beg. Vulnerable to his eyes as they refocus on my thighs, I begin to tremble.

He’s no longer looking at me with lust and unfiltered desire. He’s broken and dealing with something I boxed away and put up on a shelf weeks ago. The desire to cut was like a switch he flipped off when he kissed me the first time in his backyard, and it had been a while since I’d done it even before then.

“Look at me!” I roar.

He jolts with the yell, but his eyes are slow to look up at me. When they find mine, I can already tell it’s going to be a long road to get back to where we were only moments ago.

My throat clogs with emotion as that tiny hint of a headache begins to renew, a low throbbing pulse at the base of my neck. I know it only gets worse from here.

I want to tell him I forgive him. I want to shout the words for everyone to hear, the very words I refused to even entertain until I woke up this morning. I knew they were coming, but they don’t hold the power at this moment as they deserve, so I keep my mouth shut.

The headache intensifies.

My pulse pounds in my ears, and my skin grows oddly cold.

“I sh-should go.” I try to stand from the bed, but my legs don’t want to work.

I’m too upset to function right now. Lost in his own mind and remorse, Dalton stares at a spot on the bed that only he can see.

“I’m going to—” I tip over, and my world goes black.Chapter 35Dalton“Piper!” Her eyes roll back as she collapses.

By some miracle, I’m able to catch her before her head slams against my bedside table.

“Please, baby. Please wake up.” Holding her in my lap, I press my palms to her flushed cheeks.

Her breathing is ragged, but it’s like she isn’t even there. Her full weight is in my lap, and an eerie sense of foreboding washes over me.

“Peyton!” I scream, the sound echoing around my room. “Peyton!”

I don’t have a clue what to do. Did she pass out? Does this have something to do with the headaches she’s been having since the snow cone stand? I feel helpless, impotent with my inability to do anything. I can’t reach my phone and releasing her to go get help doesn’t even occur to me.

“Dalton!” Peyton screams from the other side of the door. “What the hell is going on?”

The sound of the door rattling snaps me back into a reality I’m not sure I can face, but it motivates me to cautiously lay her on my floor and unlock my bedroom door.

“What the hell did you do?” Peyton screeches when she sees Piper laid out in nothing but her panties.

“Sh-she just passed out. I can’t wake her up.” I rush back to Piper’s side, but there’s no change. “Grab something to cover her up with. We need to get her to the hospital.”

Peyton disappears, returning an eternity later with a robe, and I don’t even bother to put her arms in the sleeves. I wrap it around her and scoop her up into my arms.

“We need to call an ambulance,” Peyton says.

“It’ll take too long,” I argue as I carry her out of my room.

“You don’t have a car!” Peyton yells at my back. “Call for help.”

“Her keys,” I snap. “Get her keys from my room.”

There’s no way I can sit idle and wait for medical help. I can get her to the hospital before help even leaves the station.

“Please, Piper. Please be okay,” I whisper as I carry her out the front door to the car in her own driveway.

Peyton tosses the keys in the front seat while I situate Piper as best I can in the back seat.

“I’m going with you,” my sister says, but my head is already shaking with rejection.

“Someone has to stay with Preston.”

“I’ll call her parents and have them meet you there. What is going on with her?”

“I don’t know.”

I honestly don’t. She was fine before. She was playful and ready for us to take things to the next level. Although she was sad at my discovery, she was trying to comfort me.

I shake my head, ridding it of the things I made this beautiful girl do to her own body because of the way I treated her.

“I have to go,” I mumble to myself.

Peyton is standing in the yard, arms crossed over her stomach as I drive away. The hospital is only a couple of miles away, but the drive seems like an eternity. I manage to hit every red light, and my foot bounces with uncontrolled anger as I wait. The last light is already yellow when I pull up, but I rush through it with a prayer that we don’t get sideswiped.