The nurse shakes her head. “The doctor checked her for that, too. She doesn’t think her head hit the concrete. There are some scrapes on her back. Antibiotic ointment is all they need.”
Professor Arnalt is frowning in deep thought as he looks back in my direction.
I open my mouth, thinking to just tell the nurse to admit me because he looks so distraught about the idea of me leaving.
But he speaks before I can. “She’ll be coming home with me. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Okay. The doctor will write a prescription for some pain meds in case she needs them. There’s no reason for her to suffer. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen are also fine to take.”
“Thank you.”
A half an hour later, the nurse wheels me out of the emergency room doors and helps me stand from the wheelchair while Professor Arnalt jogs to the passenger side of his SUV and opens the door. He gently takes me from the nurse, lifts me into the car, sets my purse on the floor, and carefully pulls the seatbelt across me.
We both thank the nurse again. The few moments I’m alone in the car while he rounds back to the driver’s side are weird. Quiet. Eerie. Lonely.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying not to shiver. It’s not very cold, but I don’t have a coat. It’s night. It’s chilly at night in Seattle. But I suspect I would be shivering even if it were a hundred degrees.
“The seat should heat up more in a few minutes, baby.” He checks the vents. “I’ll have you home and tucked into bed in no time.”
“Okay.” I look out the window. Does he mean my apartment?
He covers my hand with his. “My house, Simone. Are you okay with that?”
“You don’t have to baby me. I’ll be fine. If you could just walk me to my apartment so I won’t be alone, I’ll be safe enough once I’m locked inside.”
He releases my hand and lifts my chin with his fingers. “Simone, I’m never taking you back to your apartment. Not even to pack your things. You’re not going back there.”
I gasp. Surely, he’s not serious.
“I mean it. It’s not up for debate. The thought of you going back there makes me grind my teeth.”
I stare at him. I don’t know what he means. I can’t process it all. My head is spinning from everything that’s happened.
“And I might not baby you, Little one,” he continues as he drives, “because I don’t think either of us plays that young, but I will Little you in every way imaginable. So, buckle your seatbelt, Simone, because shit’s about to get bumpy.” He glances at me, shooting me a grin.
Who is this man? He’s never spoken to me like this, nor have I ever heard him cuss. Granted, I’ve only known him in educational settings, but now I’m reconsidering the possibility that I died or fell asleep while driving.
It’s not too far to get to the gated community where he lives, and soon, he’s pulling his SUV around to the back of his home. I knew it would be a giant older home because most of the houses in this neighborhood are, but I’m still slightly shocked by its size.
My teeth start chattering when he opens my door. Why did I think it was a good idea to go out tonight without a jacket? Perhaps if I’d been wearing something over my clothes, I wouldn’t have been quite as attractive to my attacker, or at least not as accessible.
Professor Arnalt sets a hand on my lower back and guides me toward the back of the house. He punches in a code to open the door, and then we’re inside what I assume is a mudroom.
It’s warmer, but I’m still shivering. I may never stop. I’m unnerved and not just from my attack. Being in his home is surreal. “Sir, I don’t want to be a burden.”
He guides me through the smaller room into a giant kitchen. It’s oddly modern, considering how old this house is. It’s been recently renovated with stainless steel appliances and white-and-gray fixtures and tile.
“You’ll never be a burden, Simone. Wipe that from your mind.”
“Well, thank you for letting me stay tonight. I’m so tired, I can’t think. I’ll come up with a better plan tomorrow.”
Professor Arnalt steps in front of me, so close I’m surrounded by his aftershave. Even at the end of the day, it lingers. I like the scent. I’ve been near enough to him several times over the years to breathe it in, but never this close.
He lifts my chin again. It’s a thing with him. “Simone, you’re tired and have been through a traumatic experience, so I don’t expect you to remember what I’m about to say. I’ll repeat it again tomorrow, but you’ve been flirting with me for four years. I was never in a position to reciprocate, so I did not. But you’re not my student anymore, so now all bets are off.”
I stare at his face. His brow is furrowed. His words are serious.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life kicking myself for waiting so long to contact you after graduation. I had some warped idea that if I put distance between the end of school and when I approached you, no one would be able to question our possible involvement before you left the university. My hesitation put you in danger, and now you’ve been assaulted because I waited so long.”
