Chapter Twelve
Piper
My head hurt worse than my heart, which said a lot. I felt like someone had put a fork inside my brain and whisked it into a scrambled mess. I could barely see straight, let alone eat.
I kept telling myself that it was my broken heart making me feel sick, but my gut said otherwise. I could almost feel the earth shifting around me, upheaving reality. Something rotten, dark, and corrosive was coming, and King had opened my eyes to it.
Sort of.
The honest truth was that most of what he'd told me didn't make much sense. He'd said that Draco was infected with something highly contagious, but when I asked what sort of virus we were talking about, he said it was a "sickness of the soul, unlike anything the world had ever seen."
Did he mean that Draco was mentally disturbed? Because as far as I knew, mental illness wasn't contagious. Either way, he was convinced the world—most of it—was going to end if he didn't find Draco.
I lay down in my bed with the curtains drawn, trying to work out my conversation with King, but Conni kept calling and texting, threatening to come over. If she did, she'd only ask questions, and my answers would make her think I was crazy.
I finally decided to text and say I had the flu. I shut off my phone and got in the shower to help calm my nerves.
First things first, did I believe King? Even a little?
He explained how this "sickness of the soul" was making sane people do terrible things while thoroughly convinced they were saving the world. He said it had begun spreading the moment Draco woke up six months ago. Everywhere Draco went, the illness was being planted in people's heads.
I was about to call King crazy, but then he rattled off a list of events happening in the world lately—extreme spikes in mental illness, legalized drug addiction, wars breaking out, open murder in the streets, violent criminals being treated like victims, and wave after wave of political movements stoking the fires of hate, funded by megacorporations. He told me to just look at what was happening in my city. The riots at the college, too.
As much as I didn't want to believe these events were related, I couldn't argue they were real. Lately, the world felt like it was losing its mind, and I'd been too self-absorbed in my little bubble with Leo to see it. The most important thing in my life had been finding historically accurate bathroom fixtures.
Either way, I felt more distraught than ever. I was only one person. What could I do about all the bad shit happening? And I didn't believe for one second that Draco was to blame. What evidence did King have?
I was in the middle of asking him that very question when he grabbed my arm. I felt pressure in my head, like someone was digging around inside me. And then he was gone. Poof. Just like that. I'd never seen anything like it.
What was he?
I'd literally watched the door cam recording five times before accepting that the man had been real, and that I wasn't going insane.
And yes, he had disappeared like I remembered.
So that led me back to my questions: What the hell was going on? More importantly, what should I do?
If this "sickness of the soul" was going to end the world, I wanted to be with my family. I'd call Conni and tell her to come with me. She wouldn't believe me, but I'd try to convince her anyway. Then I'd get in my car and keep going until I got to Nebraska.
Step one: pack. Step two: get gas and cash. Step three—I shut off the shower and reached for a towel.
"Hello, Piper," said a deep voice.
I jumped with a gasp. Draco stood in the doorway between the bathroom and my bedroom, his thick arms crossed over his chest. His eyes glided over my naked body, and his lips curled into a sly smile.
"What the hell?" I pressed my towel over my breasts. "Get out!"
"You've seen mine. Now I've seen yours. Seems only fair." He shrugged casually.
Not even close to fair. Yes, it had been wrong of me to barge in on him and stare at his cock for two seconds, but it had been an honest mistake. This was on purpose.
"You and I must talk," he said sternly. "I will be in the kitchen once you're dressed."
Hell no was I about to sit and have a chat with this man. If King was right, I could get infected. Or maybe I already was?
I don't care. I'm getting dressed and running for my car.
"Do not even think of running. Kitchen. Now." He left but didn't bother closing the bedroom door.
Panting, I stood dripping on my floor. Shit.