Page 49 of Broken Instrument

“Is she all right?” Sammie asks. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“I’ll take care of her. If you can get the video feed to me, that’d be great.”

“You sure? I can call––”

“I think I already know who’s to blame, Sam. And he isn’t stupid enough to leave a trail. I’ve got it, though. Thanks.”

With a frown, a concerned Sammie grabs Hadley’s now empty glass of red wine from the bartop and watches us leave. But she doesn’t say a word because she knows as well as I do now isn’t the time for answers. Right now? I need to take care of Hads.

Shit!

18

FENDER

“We could take my car, ya know. Even though yours smells better. How can your car smell better than mine? Especially when it’s so old.” Hadley looks around the car, twisting in the front seat to look at the back. “Wait. Where’s Pixie?”

“She’s at my place.”

“Oh. You would think having a dog would make your car smelly, but it doesn’t. It smells good.” She leans closer to me and takes a whiff. “No. It’s you. You smell good. I wonder if you drove my car, would it start smelling good too? ‘Cause if it would, I would give you full permission to drive my car whenever you want. And I mean whenever you want.” She winks behind her slightly askew glasses.

My jaw tightens, along with my grip around the steering wheel.

I’m going to kill him.

With her elbows on the center console, she cradles her head in her hands, fully facing me. “Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

“You look mad,” she decides, staring at me openly before whining, “Don’t be mad. It’s no fun being mad. You should be happy. I’m happy. Actually, I’m feeling pretty damn fantastic.” With a loud snort, she covers her face and cackles.

My stomach clenches.

The asshole drugged her then disappeared. And combine it with the note in Marty’s handwriting burning a hole through my pocket? Yeah. I’m seriously going to kill him. As soon as Hadley comes down from whatever she’s on. I can’t leave her. Not like this. Even though my blood is hot with rage, and I’d give anything to beat the shit out of Marty and anyone else who was involved with putting Hadley in this situation, I can’t.

But the worst part is, it could’ve been so much worse. He could’ve taken her. The asshole at the bar, or the guy who slipped me the note, or even Marty himself. They could’ve taken her and raped her. And it would’ve been all my fault.

Fuck!

I slam my hand against the steering wheel, and Hadley flinches away from me.

With a slow, controlled breath, I force my grip to loosen around the steering wheel and glance at Hads, who seems to have already forgotten my little temper tantrum. Instead, she’s staring at me again as if I’m the most interesting thing on the planet.

“You feeling anything else, Hads? Sick to your stomach? Dizzy? Anything?”

Her lips purse, and she squeezes her eyes shut, announcing, “Nope. I feel happy. Light. I should drink wine more often. I’ll have to ask your little bartender friend what kind it is, though, ‘cause I’ve never felt this good after only one glass. All warm and fuzzy inside with a side of let’s have sex in the back seat. Ooooh, that sounds really good.” She rests her head against the headrest and runs her hands up and down her thighs.

Shit. She’s horny. They must’ve slipped her something to heighten physical touch and endorphins. Ecstasy, maybe? Hell, it could’ve been Marty’s own messed-up concoction. There’s a reason I liked buying from him. He knew how to create a good high or a good trip if I was ever in the mood for any psychedelics. But Hadley wasn’t in the mood for anything. This wasn’t her choice. He stole that from her.

I pull up to the curb in front of Hadley’s apartment building and scrub my hand over my face. I should take her to the hospital. Just to make sure she’s okay. Even though I know Marty will have a solid alibi and won’t be charged with shit for what he did tonight. But what will going to the hospital do for Hadley? She was drugged. It isn’t her fault. But will we be able to prove it? Or will she wind up arrested for something completely out of her control? I should know this. The rules and laws behind drug abuse. But I feel like I don’t know shit, and whatever decision I come to could wind up ruining the girl in front of me. Indecision eats me up inside as I stare at her for another few seconds.

I turn the ignition back on, and her eyes snap open. “Where are you going?”

“We’re going to the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Because––”

---