Page 143 of Crimson Tears

Even turning my head to answer Doc feels like I’m swimming in a violent ocean inside of my own brain. I’ve felt randomly nauseous for a few days now, but it hasn’t hit me like this before.

Maybe it was the salmon in the sandwich?

Just the thought of the food has me gasping for breath as another round of vomiting aggressively assaults my body. I’m convinced it is not possible to have anything left inside of me by the time I sit back. Doc gave me some medicine in the IV and is running some saline in order to rehydrate me and help flush out any poison.

When everything seems to be alright and the nausea subsides enough for me to sit up, we come to the conclusion that it had to be the food we ate for lunch. He requests to take my blood and urine to run some tests just to be safe, and I give my consent.

The minute he pulls the needle from my arm, Cillian and Boris come rushing in. I still feel awful, so Evie fills them in on everything.

“We can’t leave you alone for even a minute, can we, Sweetheart?”

Cillian kisses my head, and I close my eyes at his touch. White spots dot my vision, dancing around like fireflies. Doc thinks it’s because of my blood pressure being slightly elevated from the vomiting.

Cillian is convinced someone tried to poison me or that they put it in the oils for my massage, but the person used their bare hands, which would be dumb if it had poison in it. Either way, he sends Damien to go check it out.

Doc discusses everything that happened since we arrived as Lev pulls up the security feed. Evie and I ate and drank the same things and had the same oils used during our massage. Nothing seems out of place except for the fact that I used the hot tub while she opted for a facial.

Doc takes a sample of the water, and Boris picks me up in his arms. I want to protest, but it’s honestly what I need. I feel tired and weak from vomiting. My stomach still feels sensitive, and I don’t want to get in the car to be jostled around.

I don’t have much of a choice though. It’s not too bad, but the second we get to the house, another bout of nausea hits me. Cillian holds my hair and Boris rubs my back. I refuse to get up off of the bathroom floor though. The tile feels cool against my overheated body.

Maybe the combination of the food and hot tub did me in?

I hate being sick. Throwing up is worse than broken ribs to me. If I could trade one for the other, I would in a heartbeat.

Boris calls Doc, who comes to the house and sets up a new IV line with fluids and more anti-nausea medication since the first round didn’t seem to help for long. I feel like such a babyfor getting all of this attention because of an upset stomach, although I can’t help but appreciate the perks of this life.

If a girl has to deal with torture and hunting down bad men, she might as well get pampered when she’s sick.I’m sure it creates balance or something.

I doze off in Cillian’s arms as Doc leaves to retrieve the test results. He’s certain that even if I ingested poison, it would be out of my system by now. Which must give me the peace I need to fall asleep.

Chapter 41

Nessa shakes faintly as she falls asleep in my arms. I keep rubbing her back as I run through every possible way someone could have gotten to her. Doc and the others are fairly convinced it was the food, but something tells me they’re wrong.

Her brows pinch slightly in her sleep. When she begins to sweat, she rolls out of my arms and onto her side on the bed, clutching at her stomach. At first, I don’t think anything of it, but then a lightbulb goes off.

Boris walks into the room just as I am covering her with a blanket.

“Doc is staying until we are positive she wasn’t poisoned,” he informs me, going to her side and pressing a hand on her head.

“Boris, what kind of birth control is Nessa on?”

His head snaps to face me. “She has an IUD.”

“She hasn’t had a period since being in the hospital. Nearly five months have passed.” I know because I pay attention.

He shakes his head. “With the IUD, she does not get her period often. Maybe once every three months or so.”

I rub a hand over my face as I look down at Nessa. “Have Doc run the test just to be sure.”

Boris looks from me to Nessa and nods, pulling out his phone immediately. He gets a message back saying it will take about fifteen minutes to run the test.

We watch our girl sleep for a few minutes, anxious energy filling the room. When Nessa groans and sits up, her face is pale as she reaches for the bucket next to her. Boris and I are there as she heaves, but nothing seems to be coming up.

Boris presses a cold cloth to her face as soon as she’s done, and I fix her hair in a loose ponytail before rubbing her back.

“Sweetheart?” She turns her head slowly. “When was the last time you checked the placement of your IUD?”

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