Page 45 of Reckoning

Meyer

I felt surprisingly healthy the next morning except for my headache, but when I opened my eyes and looked at the side of the bed, I saw an IV in my hand.

“It’s just saline and nutrients. Should help with the hangover.” I rolled my head the other way to see Joshua sitting near the door. My mouth opened to speak, but he answered my question before I could ask it. “She’s outside. Said she didn’t want to be here when you woke up.”

I took a deep breath and rubbed my forehead with a free hand. “Can I have some painkillers?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just some—”

“No. Your liver doesn’t need any more stress.”

A hangover was a small price to pay for a suicide attempt—at least I wasn’t in the hospital—but I didn’t want him to know that. “I don’t pay you to be an asshole to me.”

“No, you pay me to keep you alive.”

“Maybe I should give Madeline a salary, then.” I closed my eyes again. The only good thing about waking up from a sleep I thought would last forever was seeing her hovering over me.

“You certainly owe her something. You’d only been under for a couple of minutes when she found you.”

I pursed my lips, trying to remember what happened before I downed the pills. My finger on her scar, her arm shifting beneath the pillow. Her bloody palm.

Wait a second.

My eyes flew open. “Was she going to kill me?”

“That’s what she said. Sliced up her hand with a piece of that broken plate she held back. I can’t figure out why she didn’t just keep her mouth shut when she found you.”

The light was slanting through the slats in the blinds; I held up a hand to shield my eyes. “Can you close that?”

With a heavy sigh, he stood and walked to the window, shrouding me in blessed dark once more. “Dr. Yang left, said you’d be fine. He left some more antidepressants. Took the oxy with him, though.”

Fuck. Talk about unintended consequences. Well, I hadn’t expected to make it through the night, after all. “I’m not taking those fucking head pills.”

“I already forced one down your throat while you slept.”

Goddamn meddling son of a bitch bodyguard. “How did that not wake me up?”

“You were drunk as hell. You deserve this hangover.”

I shuffled and pushed myself up to sitting, the angry buzzing in my head growing stronger with each passing second. Joshua made no move to help me, not that I wanted his assistance. I’d lost enough face for one day. “Go get Madeline.”

“Get her yourself.”

“When did you get so fucking mouthy?”

“When you turned into a dickless coward.”

I glared. “You’re supposed to be nice to me, you know. I’m your boss. There’s a fucking power saw running through my brain, my father still wants to destroy me, and Maddie—” I cut myself off and rubbed my forehead.

“What about Maddie? You almost left her to your father. Did you really think I could have kept her away from him? He wouldn’t have let her go. He would have assumed she killed you.”

He was right. It was a stupid plan for multiple reasons. I gritted my teeth and pulled the IV needle from my hand, then swung my feet to the floor. Sending every last ounce of strength to my thighs, I rose to my feet and stumbled to the bathroom.

The warm water helped my aching body and throbbing head somewhat, but I didn’t have much energy. I went through the motions of brushing my teeth and towel-drying my hair, and when I went back into the bedroom, Joshua was gone. I took more time than necessary to choose my clothes. When I walked to the kitchen, Joshua was sliding eggs and bacon onto a plate. I sat to eat, expecting more conversation, but he didn’t speak. I had to break the silence.

“Where is she?”

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