DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete First Book

PART 3, SECTION 11

I hadn't even heard anyone drive up this time. I was too focused on Morgan. 

Through the blinds I saw a black sedan parked in the driveway. Its windows were heavily tinted. There was no way I could see if there was anyone else inside.

Another knock came at the front door.

This time it was my dad who answered. There was another male voice which I couldn't make out. But I heard my dad say, "Oh, yes. Yes. She's upstairs. She's awake. I just heard her up. It's the first room on the left." He called out, "Ashley, someone's here to see you! He's coming up!"

I'd never been so frustrated with my father's unquestioning trustfulness and his idiotic country hospitality. 

Why hadn't I tried to hide Morgan faster?

I'd wasted too much time not deciding quickly enough what to do, and now someone was already here. Ian had a hunch that someone would come for Morgan, but I didn't think even he knew how fast they would arrive. Now it was too late. If someone was here looking for me, then it must have been Morgan who they were really trying to find.

Footsteps came up the stairs.

I dropped to my knees and looked under the bed. The space was mostly filled with plastic bins filled with my old clothes and school papers. It was too shallow anyway. I could never fit Morgan under there.

I threw open my closet door. It was filled with hanging clothes and shoes, but there was probably just enough room for Morgan on the floor if I bent her legs and closed the door.

It would have to do. I had no other choice.

I pulled back the sheets, slipped my arms beneath her body, and lifted her from the bed. She felt incredibly fragile, but she was heavier than I thought she'd be.

One of her legs slipped from my grasp. I had to set her on the floor before I made it all the way to the closet. Her head bumped hard against the carpet.

Crap.

She started breathing even faster. She was still sweating, and she'd grown pale. She started to make little rasping coughs. A thin foam had appeared at the corners of her mouth. I was terrified that she was on the verge of death.

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

I grabbed the chair and wedged it under the doorknob as quietly as possible.

I lifted Morgan's ankles. I had no choice but to drag her the last few feet to the closet.

There was another knock at the door, harder this time. A voice called out my name. . . 

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