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Jesus Christ, it’s like the world’s falling apart around me all of a sudden. I return to Heracles’ message and hit reply.
Me: “Help” her, Heracles. But be slow about it. She’s not leaving. Over my dead body. Or yours, if you try to make this happen for her.
Once that’s sent, I bring up Steph’s contact information and hit dial. When she answers, her voice is a whispered hiss.
“I didn’t expect you to call! What if someone hears me?”
“Just keep quiet,” I snap. Like I give a shit if her friends find out that she’s been keeping an eye on Odi for me. I don’t care. So long as Odi’s safe, that’s all that matters. “What’s wrong with Odi?”
“She’s sick. I told you.”
I grit my teeth to keep from yelling at the blonde bimbo. “Sick,howStephanie?”
“Sicksick. Vomiting. Puking her guts up. Calling god on the porcelain telephone?—”
“I get it!”
“She’s sick. Like I said.”
“Is she hungover?”
“She’s not been drinking all week.”
“Something she ate?”
“Does food poisoning last five days?”
“Fuck.”
“That’s why I texted you. I’m worried. I don’t even think a sickness bug would last this long.”
“Shit. She needs to see a doctor.”
“Duh.”
“Don’t fuck with me, blondie.”
She huffs.
“What if I send a doctor over to the flat? You could say you called the medical centre and they sent a locum over. Would that work?”
“Yeah, that should be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll set it up straight away. But call me right away if she gets worse.”
“I’ll text. It’s easier.”
“You’ll call if you know what’s fucking good for you.”
“You could be nicer to me, you know. My boyfriend?—”
“Is one injury away from ending his career and shattering his dreams,” I threaten. “Don’t think I won’t hesitate.”
“Jesus. Alright. I’ll call.”
“Good.”
I hang up before she can utter another word and immediately call the doctor that Axel keeps on retainer to arrange for him to go and visit Odi at the girls’ flat.
