Page 48 of Stranger to Love

A quiet groan escaped her. I kept my eyes closed, but felt her hands covering mine—holding firm, grounding me while I tried to breathe through the blinding pain.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again, blinking back the dots. Fuck, this was a bad concussion. Her thumbs gently smoothed the back of my hands, her voice gentle. “Alex, you need to let me help.”

I swallowed around my dry throat. "I can walk myself.” I said stupidly. I barely fucking recognised myself right then.

“Darling.” Her fingers kept smoothing a fluttering rhythm on the back of my hands. "You can’t. I am not letting you walk anywhere on your own. I will walk you to the front door and leave once I know you are safe with someone looking after you.”

That was even fucking worse. What was I supposed to say to my parents? Fuck no. Fuck, this was a bad idea. I should never have texted her in the first place. I should’ve fucking made Steve pay for a taxi home.

Her thumbs stopped their movement. “Alex, why won’t you let me walk you home?”

Because I was fucking shit poor and I didn’t want her to know. I didn’t want her to see what a fucking shitty life I had when she walked around in clothes I probably wouldn't even know where to buy from.

“Dr. Carter, I’ll be fine. Honestly.” I pulled away from her and reached for the car door, completely forgetting that it was locked — like always. Fuck. I looked back at her awkwardly, and she was smirking. Then she straightened her posture and turned the car on again.

She looked at me expectantly. “Will you let me take you home?”

I chewed my cheek and answered, “No."

She gently pressed the accelerator, and the car moved off smoothly. Um, what the fuck. I looked at her wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving you unless I know you’re being taken care of, and if you won’t let me do that, then you don’t get to leave,” she said simply, as if that wasn't fucking abducting me.

I groaned and laid my head back against the headrest. I didn’t even know if I had enough in me right then to fight her. I couldn’t, I just couldn't let her know the truth. I managed to say, “Pretty sure it's illegal to kidnap someone.”

She scoffed. “You are not in a position to make sound decisions. I am merely doing my duty of care, darling.”

I just glared at her, and she smirked. I focused on the road right ahead; with everything blurring past, it made me feel so nauseous that I couldn’t look out the side window. We were heading into a part of town I'd never been to before, and it was not surprising—the houses were fucking huge. Each of them stood alone with gates that blocked the driveways. Fuck, I had known that she must have been minted, but this was surreal.

I felt sick, not just from my pounding head, but something was twisting in my stomach as she slowed down and turned into a drive where the gates automatically opened. There were spotlights lighting up the drive as we crawled down it. There had to be like five bedrooms. More maybe. Fuck. Oh fuck. Wait a minute. We pulled up into a sort of open building where there were two other cars. Oh, fuck me. She must have had a family. What the fuck was I doing there.

I felt frozen as she got out of the car, smoothly grabbing her trench coat before she moved over to my door and opened it gently. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to meet her fucking family. I shouldn’t have been there.

She tilted her head at me. “Don't make me throw you over my shoulder, Alex.”

Whoosh, there went my stomach again. The way she said that, like she’d fucking enjoy it, and yeah, well… so would I. I took a deep breath and slowly got out of the car, because what else was I supposed to do. She closed the door behind me, and just to make me feel even dizzier, she wrapped her arm around my waist, grounding me. I didn’t need her to. I could walk fine, but I didn’t say anything.

Dr. Carter opened the front door, the movement smooth and silent. As she guided me over the threshold, the bite of the cold night air was instantly replaced by a rich, subtle scent—something clean, warm, and expensive. She closed and locked the door behind us, the heavy deadbolt sliding shut with unnecessary finality.

I guess I was the type of idiot who walked right into her own fucking abduction.

I took in the house, and fuck me. The hallway was vast, floored in dark wood that gleamed beneath soft overhead lights. A grand, sweeping staircase rose up toward the second floor. A closed door sat to the right, but the one on the left stood wide open, hinting at a massive fuck-off living room shrouded in darkness. The entire place was spotless—surgically clean.

Dr. Carter moved toward a discreet cupboard near the entrance. Slipping it open, she revealed a perfectly organised closet lined with outerwear that practically screamed money. She hung her trench coat inside before gently easing my jacket off my arms and taking the strap of my backpack from my shoulder. She stowed them both neatly inside.

I didn't even try to stop her. I was way past that point then.

Then she looked down at my feet. I immediately slipped off my shoes, obedient to her order, and she placed them near a row of designer-looking boots and flats.

I felt utterly breathless. What was I fucking doing there?

I spied into the cupboard before she secured the door, noticing only women’s coats and shoes. She must have had a wife, then. I felt sick; I couldn’t even celebrate that I was right about her being gay as I imagined a woman upstairs, asleep. Like, what the fuck. How had her wife been okay with her being out so late, picking up a fucking student from work? And what would she think when she inevitably woke up and found me there? This was just fucking weird.

Dr. Carter closed the cupboard. “Come on.”

I chewed on my lip as Dr. Carter walked past me and down the hallway. She’d taken her heels off. She was still tall, but fuck, seeing her like that, in some sort of designer black dress, no shoes, in her pristine home… Wait, maybe I did fucking pass out, and I was just dreaming right then. That, I would believe.

Dr. Carter opened a door at the end of the hallway and flicked on a small lamp, softly illuminating the open-plan kitchen-diner. Everything in this woman's fucking life was slick and neat, and I breathed deeply, trying to take it all in. She pulled out a bar stool at the massive kitchen island, and guided me over to it with a gentle push to my shoulders.