That gets a reaction out of him. “Up.”
“No way, José.”
“You can do it the easy way or the hard way.”
Oh boy. He has no idea that I always pick the hard way. I narrow my eyes. Time to play.
“I feel dizzy,” I say in a low tone. “Like, if I get up, I’m going to be sick.”
Lowering my gaze, I press my lips just a bit to send the point home.
“Finn can carry you to the bathroom.”
“What? No!”
“If you’re not feeling well, then it’s our responsibility to take care of you.”
Judging by the look on Finn’s face, he doesn’t agree with his brother. Oliver, on the other hand, looks like he’ll carry me if I ask. So, I do.
“I think I’d prefer Oliver. He looks stronger, and he’s a lot younger than you two.”
Their reactions have me cracking up on the inside, and Oliver doesn’t waste a chance to scoop me into his arms. Huh. He reallyisstrong. And I reallydofeel sick now that I’m being carried to the bathroom. We barely make it in time before I jump from his arms, vomiting into the toilet. My stomach cramps, and I gag when I see bits of steak floating in the toilet water. That’s what I get for eating so much.
“Fuck. I didn’t know you were serious,” Atticus says from behind me.
Groaning, I retch some more. “I think your steak was poisoned.”
I’m joking, but when I look up, Finn is gone, and both Atticus and Oliver look worried.
“Wha—”
I don’t get the word out before I vomit again.
“I don’t feel so good,” I mutter.
My stomach roils and I gag over the toilet. Oh god. That will teach me to break into someone’s house and eat their fucking food. Maybe the food was some kind of trap. But who does that?
In the distance, I hear Finn’s voice. “I don’t care how busy you are. Get your ass over here. Now.”
I want to ask what’s going on, but don’t get a chance because I’m already heaving.
“Listen to me, angel.” Atticus’ voice is so commanding that I look up, meeting his gaze. “What all did you eat? Was it just the container in the sink?”
Even thinking about the steak and veggies makes me want to hurl.
Groaning, I say, “Just the container.”
My words are cut off by another round of vomiting. I’m starting to get worried. What if there was something in the food? My fears are confirmed when an older man enters the bathroom with Finn.
“I can’t be certain without testing the dish, but it sounds like may have been tampered with.”
I want to get the hell out of here while I still can, but I’m so weak. And now I’m shivering.
Atticus asks, “Is there anything we can do for her?”
The man, who I assume is a doctor, mutters something about keeping me comfortable and leaves.
“It hurts,” I moan as my stomach cramps.