Free High-Risk Fever by Lea Bronsen

level, and the next, he rejected her, treated her like she had the plague. She stared and prayed for his coughing to stop.
    He sank to the floor, face in his hands, and leaned against the wall. His body shook, naked torso glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his skin.
    She swallowed the lump in her throat and flattened her skirt. She should ask Todd to take care of him instead.
    A car engine started outside, and she looked out the rain-spotted window above Mica’s head. Dark clouds swept over the village roofs at frightening speed. She’d been so busy— yes, with a second man, God forgive me —she had ignored the raging storm and the violent gusts of wind threatening to blow every loose object into the air.
    A knock sounded behind her, and she pivoted as the creaking door opened. Not caught in the act, at least. That was something. She’d had enough of bad surprises today.
    Todd stepped in, his and Mica’s rucksacks in hand. His green eyes glanced at her before tightening with worry as he looked past her and saw his sick boyfriend. Without a word, he dumped the sacks on the floor and hurried to kneel next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
    She bit her lip, fought back the sting of jealousy, and looked away. These two men being together was the order of things. Did she need to be reminded? Micaela slept with Todd, and she with Brian. And come to think of it, how the hell did she change so incredibly fast, after the disturbing events in the cellar? Metamorphosing from the hurting, humiliated wife to the selfish, adulterous mistress in a few minutes. What kind of person did that make her?
    She took a deep breath. Now was not a good moment for introspection. She looked around the small, sparsely furnished room and tried to recall her purpose for coming here.
    The sheets.
    Todd whispered something to his lover, but she blocked the guys out and went to the unmade bed. Four persons had slept on these two mattresses. Not much space, but one couldn’t expect much more from a bed and breakfast. She removed the ruffled sheets and replaced them with the clean, fresh ones, smelling of apple-scented conditioner.
    “Hey, Anne?” Todd called from the window.
    Her heart leapt. What now? She turned, swallowing.
    Arms wrapped around Micaela, Todd sent her a worried look. “Is there a doctor around here?”
    “Um, yes. There’s a bureau médical in the village center.”
    He nodded. “Your husband left a few minutes ago—I should have told you earlier, sorry—to help a neighbor secure his roof. He said tiles had blown down. But, if Micaela gets worse, do you think you can drive him?”
    Her heartbeat accelerated. After what had happened between them, taking that hunk in her car had to be the stupidest idea ever. But there might be no choice. His cold could turn into pneumonia at any time. She nodded. She would do it, and whatever occurred during their drive, she would take the consequences later.
    God, what a slut I am . How could she handle her marital betrayal so easily, as if already accepting it?
    “Okay, thanks.” The lines on Todd’s forehead smoothed. “Let’s just see how it goes, first. In this crazy weather”—he glanced out the window—“it wouldn’t be too smart to hit the road.”
    “No.” She imagined her little Peugeot bounced around by storm winds or hit by flying objects. If Micaela’s state worsened, they would have to choose between two evils.
    “I can’t believe this fucking shit.” He shook his blond hair. “Not exactly how we pictured our summer holidays.”
    She wanted to say she was sorry, but didn’t. Sorry for what? Their ruined vacation? His boyfriend’s illness? Or because, only five minutes ago, she’d had his boyfriend’s fingers up her vagina? Jesus .
    She sighed and pointed at the bottles. “In the meantime, there’s medicine for him.” Yeah, like saying something nice could ease her conscience. Well, at least she did have a guilty conscience. It had to