Page 6 of Guarded By Death

Pierce abruptly cuts me off. "He drugged you, I'm guessing both of you," he states in a dark tone, a crease forms between his thick black eyebrows.

I turn towards him, completely stunned by his words. "What do you mean drugged? Why are we just standing here, we need to call the cops!" I shout. I start to trot my way back into the club and instantly lose my balance. Pierce holds me, steadies me.

He shakes his head. "He's not going to be a problem anymore, you two need to get home," he states.

I can barely think but I find a sense of calm as I look into Pierce’s bright green eyes, a stark contrast to the midnight black of Logan’s moments ago. My body trembles, remembering how scared I was. "But his eyes, I saw them!"

"Scarlett, I think the drugs are messing with your head. The guy was just a creep. He was trying to hook up with you," he says, his fist clenching at his sides.

If whatever we were given is making me hallucinate shouldn't I be getting medical help? I mean, what did he even give us?

It feels like someone put bricks on my chest. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" I cry, looking to Liv in desperation.

"No, you will both be fine. A good night's sleep is what you need." His tone is calm and strong, reassuring us. I don't know him, but I trust him, maybe that's stupid of me but why would he go through all of this trouble to save us if he wasn't a nice guy?

Directing his words towards Liv but keeping his eyes on me he says, "Are you okay, Liv?" She doesn't respond. I look towards her and she's just staring into the darkness in front of her.

My hands dive into my purse. "I want to go home, where are the keys?" I practically scream. I just want to escape. I begin rummaging through the contents of my overcrowded bag when a warm hand grabs my wrist gently.

A small chuckle escapes his full lips. "Yes, where are your keys? I'm driving you both home."

Four

Mom is going to kill us

Asmall gasp escapes my lips as I wake, the sun blasts an unwelcome pouring of light in through the window, making my room unbearably bright. My room? Stretching my arms out wide, I attempt to collect my thoughts.

"Umm, Scar. What happened last night?" Liv whispers; breaking the silence.

I grip my pounding head. "We were at the club. I don't remember much... everything is kind of a blur," I gulp. A moment of silence spreads between us, giving me a moment to think. The pieces start to manifest, along with my rising heartbeat. "I remember being dragged through a hallway and the brown-haired guy... Logan! His eyes turned black!" I keep my voice low, but a shriek escapes me as I remember more, "but Pierce..." My hand hovers over my parted lips and suddenly the realization hits me. "We were drugged last night.”

She tilts her head, studying me. "His eyes turned black?"

"I'm sure of it. Well, I think I am. We were drugged though so that may have been a part of it. I was so scared, Liv, if it wasn't for the Pierce guy, I don't know what would have happened to us." I can feel tears welling in my eyes.

Frown lines appear on her tired face. "Oh, Scar I’m so sorry, you didn't want to go last night, and I forced it on you. I ruined your birthday. I remember you were so scared." She sighs, slumping over in defeat.

I shake my head. "No, not at all. You were trying to make it fun for me. This is in no way your fault. We're safe and that's all that matters." This is true, we are safe. But how did we get here?

"Pierce... he was the tall one, right? He was holding your hand." she nudges my arm, sending me a small smile. "Woah, Scar! What happened?" she stammers, grabbing below the purple bruise that lays on my arm.

I touch the sore spot, gulping. "The Logan guy, he grabbed me pretty hard.”

Remembering the events that unfolded last night it’s hard to forget the beautiful, angelic face that saved me from a monster. The way his jet-black hair curled at the ends right above his thick brows. How his height towered over everyone around him, how he looked at me with deep concern through his emerald eyes. Even though I was nothing more than a stranger, he helped us. I am grateful he got us to safety, and I want to thank him, but how?

"He took us here last night," I state, still collecting my thoughts. “I remember giving him my keys.”

"Why did he take us here and not my house?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I'm not entirely sure, maybe we were just out of it and told him to bring us here? I don't remember anything after he grabbed my keys," I shrug.

Looking to my nightstand, a mixture of guilt and worry washes over me. There are two glasses of water, still cold with ice, and headache medicine sitting on my bedside table.

"Great! Mom's going to kill me, we probably stumbled through making all kinds of noise late at night. She was still sweet enough to leave this for the both of us," I groan, gesturing to the water. My voice is not at a whisper anymore. She knows what happened and she is going to be disappointed. I hope she knows I didn't drive last night but she would be equally concerned about a stranger getting us here.

"Time to face the music." I groan.

"Better to get it over with now," she says as she shrugs out of the bed. We both down the waters; I've never been so thirsty before.

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