Page 11 of Law Of Love

“You’re a fucking bitch.” I clamped my eyes shut briefly, my head pounding. “What did that gain you? Seriously?” I was furious.

“You think drugging somebody is funny? Get. The. Fuck. Out of my house,” ordered Kaleb, his form towering above Maggie’s, making her look like a puny mouse compared to him—although she was on the taller side for a woman.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Are you serious? Wow, Kaleb, so you disappear to become a cop and come back up your ass?”

“What did I just say, Maggie? Leave. Before I make you.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, shouting a string of ugly words at him as she slammed the front door shut behind her.

I was left standing with Brent by my side and Kaleb in front of me, their faces perturbed.

“Freya? Do you feel okay?” Brent held his hands out to steady me, noticing my swaying stance.

The mix of alcohol I’d drunk in a short space of time and the drug Maggie had spiked me with was hitting me full force.

“Okay,” Kaleb muttered, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose, and slowly approaching me. He attempted to have me focus on him. However, he was bleary. “Let’s go upstairs where it’s quieter.”

“I'll get her some water,” said Brent, quickly disappearing.

I tried to take a step but ended up ramming my shin against the side of the coffee table, the jagged wood digging into my skin. It caused a few cups to topple, liquid spilling over the living room carpet, staining the cream-coloured rug.

“Shit,” I mumbled, becoming sweaty, droplets forming on my upper lip. My clammy hands were shaking, and anxiety was coursing through my veins. I couldn’t tell what was worse—the feeling of actually having drugs in my system or the paranoia that the drugs were going to wreak havoc on my body and cause permanent damage.

How much had Maggie put in that cup? Surely not all of it?

Kaleb took hold of my wrist, his fingers grazing against mine as he pulled me away from the couch towards the steps. However, when I reached the bottom, he noticed my futile expression, each step looking daunting. Sensing my reluctance, he tucked himself behind me, nudging me forward and hovering behind my lower back in case I fell.

Brent quickly appeared behind us, clutching a glass of water. His mouth was down-turned, but I refocused my attention away from him to concentrate on moving my feet.

I felt even more off balance once we reached the landing, and Kaleb gripped me, guiding me to the nearest room.

His room.

The clean and musky scent of him wafted up my nostrils and filled my sinuses, and I cocked my head at the sight of his perfectly tidy bedroom. I hadn’t expected Kaleb’s room to be a state, to be honest, though. He was organised and orderly, and ‌it looked like he preferred to match his surroundings to his character.

“Drink this.” Brent thrust the glass of water in my direction as I seated myself down on the edge of Kaleb’s bed, the duvet plush beneath me. I took a sip, which only made me feel even more nauseous, and I handed back the glass, resting my head on my knees.

My heart was racing.

“Freya, listen to me,” said Kaleb quietly, kneeling in front of me, tapping at my leg to gain my attention, and I gazed out from my knees to look at him. “When's the last time you ate?”

I furrowed my brows, unsure of the answer. I was running too late for college to have breakfast, and I'd spent my lunch trying to catch up on the work I’d missed. Food had been at the back of my mind, and even when I’d got home with a growling stomach, I’d headed straight upstairs to shower and work on my sketch.

“I… don't remember,” I admitted, pushing the hair that had come loose from my claw clip out of my face.

“She's got nothing but alcohol and drugs in her system,” Kaleb breathed out, standing up, his form stiff and eyebrows pinched.

“She needs to throw it all up,” suggested Brent, nodding his head towards the bathroom, his mouth set in a firm line.

Suddenly, as if it were an order, I clutched at my stomach and rushed into Kaleb’s en-suite, kicking the door shut behind me and throwing up the contents of my stomach. It burned my throat, and I cursed under my breath, flushing the toilet and slumping back against the wall.

“She drank the drugs towards the end of the game, so they wouldn’t have affected her body much. I think she’ll be fine,” Brent said from the other side of the door.

“Just thinking isn’t really good enough, though, is it?” Kaleb grumbled.

Their bickering was slicing right through my skull, but I did feel a hell of a lot better for vomiting.

“Just get everyone out. I'm done with their childish shit,” Kaleb ordered his friend, peeking open the bathroom door to step in, checking me over. I ran my hands down my face, trying to block my vision of his conflicted expression, and he narrowed his eyes. He leaned against the bathroom wall, his tongue skating along the front of his teeth once again as he watched me like a hawk.

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