Chasing Red (Chasing Red 1) - Page 2

“Not you. Although I guess dumb is debatable. What are you doing here alone?” My hands shot out to hold her up as she swayed on her feet again. “Whoa. You all right?”

It had been too dark inside the club to notice, but now I could see her face was pale, her eyes glassy. Without waiting for her reply, I scooped her up in my arms. She let out a weak protest.

“Do you need to throw up?” I asked, shaking her a little when she didn’t respond.

That wasn’t a smart move on my part, I realized. She moaned in distress, covering her mouth with her hands, as I headed to my parking spot. When she looked like she wasn’t going to puke, I settled her carefully inside my car.

“I just got this car. You’re not going to throw up in here, are you?” I started the ignition. She looked like she’d passed out already. “Where do you live? I’ll drive you.”

“H-homeless,” she whimpered, surprising me that she’d responded. “Kicked out of my p-place.”

Leaning against the headrest, I took a deep breath and rubbed my face. Homeless? Now what? I could drop her off at a hotel and pay her lodging for a few days so she’d have a place to stay while she found a new place. It was more than a stranger would do. But then I glanced at her and that plan evaporated.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and shallow, but even in sleep, she looked troubled. This girl who was so fierce on the dance floor looked so vulnerable now. Her face seemed familiar to me, like a barely remembered picture from a long time ago, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen her before. I wouldn’t forget a face like hers.

My brother, Ben, always liked to point out that I was a sucker for damsels in distress, and when I decided to take her to my apartment, I proved him right. I told myself she would not be safe in a hotel, especially in her current state. God knows what would have happened outside the club if I hadn’t shown up.

It was spring, but the temperature was still dropping a few degrees at night. Fog covered the windshield and the windows of my car. When she shivered, I turned the heater on full blast, shrugged out of my jacket, and covered her with it. She was going to have a hell of a hangover when she woke up in the morning. We were a few minutes away from my apartment when she suddenly jerked up in her seat, covering her mouth.

Shit, no.

She threw up all over my car.

I nearly cried. My brand-new car! The sound of her retching was bad enough, but the smell was so putrid I nearly gagged myself. Desperately opening the windows and sunroof, I let out the breath I was holding and frantically gasped for air.

“Damn, girl. One good deed and—”

She threw up again.

“Maaan!”

Pissed, I debated if I should drop her off at a hotel. I didn’t know this girl. Even my savior complex had a limit.

But I knew I couldn’t do it.

Resigned, I guided my car into my apartment building’s garage, parked in my spot, and warily approached the passenger seat. Holding my breath, I cleaned her as much as I could with an extra towel I kept in my car for basketball practice, then picked her up in my arms. She stank to high heaven.

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I carried her through the lobby, and the concierge pressed the elevator doors for me since my hands were full. “Your girlfriend had too much to drink, sir?”

“Now, you and I both know I don’t do girlfriends, Paul.”

He chuckled.

As soon as I keyed in the code to my apartment, I went straight to the guest bedroom. She whimpered when I gently laid her on the bed, curling up like a little kitten. “Mom,” she sobbed.

Glancing at her face, I hesitated beside the bed. Whatever this girl had gone through hadn’t been pleasant. I knew I should probably clean her up and change her clothes, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate it when she discovered a stranger had stripped her. I might lose an eye or a hand if I did. Better not risk it.

Her breathing eventually evened out. I don’t know how long I stayed there watching her sleep.

Chapter Two

Veronica

The soft warmth of sunlight on my skin woke me. I savored the clean, white sheets covering me, thinking of how sweet my mom was for changing them. Content, I smiled and burrowed.

My mom. It wasn’t possible. My mom was dead.

Tags: Isabelle Ronin Chasing Red Romance
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