Page 180 of Wrath

‘Where did you go?’

Tears drip from my eyes. I wipe them and watch the road.That was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.It's been a long time since I did that. Fucking dumb drunk Miller.

He never replies.

All the lanes are congested and bumper to bumper. I feel like I might throw up. I text Daniel.

'I'll pin drop where I am. You can stay too'

The cab is swerving. I'm breathing out of my mouth. Everything looks big and dark and blurry. Side streets. This one is bright. Lots of signs and buildings. Then the cab jerks to a stop.

"Here we are, at the Mahogany."

The Mahogany? Is that where I’m supposed to be? I get out, careful, since I’m so numb, and I frown up at the pale stone building.Where am I? What was I thinking?

I look at my phone, feeling a shot of fear. I'm too drunk to get back to the bar. I don't know where I am.

I find another message on Snap.'It’s called the Mahogany. You go inside and there's a butler. He's nice. There's an elevator. You're floor five, room 501. Door passcode is 119973. If you need help, ask Richard for help. If you have trouble- call me.'He's listed his phone number.

I do what Dom tells me, feeling like a goldfish in the ocean. Then I'm in the room. It's huge and white, with gleaming marble floors and high, high ceilings. I inhale something floral, and I'm about to get sick.

I was stupid to come here. I wash my face in the kitchen sink and try to not feel so sick. I feel dizzy. I walk around the living room, noting a baby grand. It makes me want to cry.

I don't belong here.

I don't belong anywhere.

I find a bedroom. Big bed. I get in it, and the sheets feel cold.

Everything is spinning. I hold my phone to my chest.

"Ezra."

I'm pathetic. And I know it.

Something warm and heavy on my shoulder shakes me awake. "Hey, babe. You okay?"

I roll over onto my back, wanting to die from the pain in my head. I crack my eyes open and see him with his head tilted a little, smiling with his pretty lips pressed shut, looking sexy, young, and daddy-ish all at the same time.

He ruffles a hand back through his hair, long and wavy on top. "What can I do?" he asks simply.

"What time is it?"

He looks at his phone. "Ten after twelve."

"Oh shit. I need to go home." I sit up, wincing.

"I caught your friend as he left with someone. Let him know you were good."

That makes me smile, despite the fucking anvil inside my skull. "Did he believe you?" I rasp.

He shrugs, looking coy again. Or smug.

"What? Did he know you?"

He smiles. "Might've. Where's home, freckles?"

"Auburn."

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