“Do you want us to crash?” he asked angrily.

“Let me out!” I demanded, trying to fumble for the handle. Tears filled my eyes, and I couldn't see anything.

“I won't! You'll jump out into the road and get hit, and I'll be a murderer, albeit indirectly. I'm saving my karma.”

“What?!” I'm so shocked by his revelation. Even my tears dried.

"We're here," he said.

"Where to?" I didn't understand.

We stopped in an underground parking lot, and I didn't know which building it belonged to. Somehow I missed this moment!

When he got out of the car, he opened the door and helped me out. I immediately pushed his hand away and stood up on both feet, yelped, and almost fell. He grabbed me in time and threw me onto his shoulder.

“Let me go!” I demanded.

“I won't!” he retorted.

I tried to break free, kicking my legs and pounding him on the back with my fists. I was ignored in the most insolent and gesturing way.

“Take off your shoes!” He said, throwing me down on the couch.

He had a couch in the hallway! And the room itself wasn't much smaller than my bedroom! "A" went into the room and, talking to someone, came back out. With the words "hurry up," addressed to the person on the phone, he handed me a half-filled glass.

“Hera will be here now; true, he is a plastic surgeon, but I'm sure he'll be able to fix your leg. You drink, it's whiskey. Go on, chug it! It's good for calming the nerves.”

I basically agreed, I read that it helps, but I haven't tried it myself. I exhaled and drank all the contents, as advised, in one gulp. The whiskey collapsed into my stomach, and a warm wave traveled through my body. I felt dizzy. He kept saying something, but I couldn't make sense of it, as if I was in a cotton cocoon. I heard everything, but for some reason I couldn't react.

“Andrew, where are you injured?” came from the entrance.

"So that's his name," I thought distantly.

“Yes, here, sitting. Eyes in a bunch. Hey!”

He waved his hand in front of my nose. Somehow I didn't care. Another man appeared in front of me, and he looked into my eyes, looked at my hands, and turned to Andrew:

"What did you do to her?"

He held up a whiskey glass. The doctor rolled his eyes and sighed.

"You better be careful. I don't want alcohol intoxication, with her chicken weight. I don't recognize you, first you hit a girl with your car, and then poison her.”

I agreed with him, but I couldn't answer. An attempted nod resulted in me falling on my side.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaimed the doctor, catching me. "Let's take her to the room."

Andrew unbuttoned my coat and, while his friend held me, took it off. Then he threw off my boots and picked me up in his arms and carried me somewhere. I couldn't fight his self-rule; all my strength was thrown into keeping awake.

I was consciously aware that my injured leg was being felt.

“Here needed bandages and ointment, and also take off stockings. I'll get what you need.”

The offer of one of the men to take something off made me come to my senses a little. I tried to crawl away from him, but it didn't work: his hand slowly crept upward, tugging at the hem. I gathered my will into a fist and pushed him away.

" That's what we're reacting to! " Andrew snorted. " I've never been able to take off stockings…

When I woke up, for the first time I couldn't figure out what had woken me up, or rather, which of my feelings was the primary one. My leg hurt, and the best thing to do would have been to take a painkiller. I was also thirsty and needed to use the bathroom. As I stood up, I realized something was wrong. There should have been a wall next to the couch, leading to the door even in the dark. And why hadn't I turned on the nightlight?