Page 32 of Tyrant

I race out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. My mind has some scenarios playing out. Mac looks at me and it takes him a second to realize I’m about to attack him.

He ducks and my first punch misses him. He wraps his arms around me and picks me up. I land an elbow to the middle of his back.

“What did you put in her drink?” I ask.

Mac breaks away from me and we both shove at each other.

“I didn’t touch her fucking drink,” he says. “Are you fucking accusing me of drugging your claimed?”

“Someone did something to her drink,” I say. “Someone…”

Mac is not a good person. None of us are. We’re all here for a reason. We’ve done unthinkable shit in our lives. But there is some kind of structure around here.

“I poured the same drink for them both,” he says. “I’m not in the business of that shit. You know that, Ty. You’re out of fucking control.”

“Fuck yourself, Mac,” I growl.

There’s no use in continuing talking to Mac. Or picking a fight with him.

When I arrived at this fucking party, I walked toward the kitchen and saw someone standing with their arm around myclaimed one. I saw his right hand touching her shoulder. Squeezing her shoulder. His right finicky and on the move… All this right before I punched him and all hell broke loose.

It was him…

Des drugged my claimed one.

Chapter Fourteen

SERAFINA

I’min the middle of a dream. I’m walking along a clear path in some random forest. Big, green trees like a canopy over my head, blocking the sunlight. The air, wet and sometimes hard to breathe in. I keep wanting to look over my shoulder but I’m afraid to do so.

Then it hits me. A gut punch kind of feeling. A voice in my head giving a clear warning.

You. Are. Going. To. Vomit.

It’s at that moment my dreamworld mixes with reality. I feel my stomach make an awful, embarrassing gurgling sound. My throat feels like it’s burning and then my body does that squeezing motion.

I’m so desperate to wake up. I want to believe I’m in my bed. I’m screaming that I need to wake up. I need to open my eyes. I need…

A groan escapes my mouth. Hands touch me. Lift me.

“Get it out of your system,claimed one,” a deep, evil voice whispers to me.

Oh… fuck… I’m in the arms of Tyrant.

To spare the messy details,I vomit, pull myself to my feet, and stand at a bathroom sink that isn’t mine. I look at my reflection in the mirror. I look haggard. I look like a girl who partied all night, got blackout drunk, and is now away in some guy’s bathroom not knowing if she should get tested for diseases or swallow aPlan Bpill just in case.

This isn’t like me. This isn’t what I do. And I didn’t even drink…

I turn on the cold water and splash my face.

Last night.

The Xanny.

Then the mixed drink.

Even still, it shouldn’t have hit me that hard.

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