Page 99 of Tamed By You

I head for the club entrance. Something in my gut is telling me to go to her. I didn’t like the way we left things; she didn’t seem herself at all.

I wave down a cab and jump in, giving the driver Ali’s address. I fire a text message to Brad apologizing for leaving. It’s thankfully a short ride to her apartment. I pay the driver, getting out the cab at speed, and rushing up to her apartment, thankful I knew her entry code.

I reach her door. Knocking on the door.

Nothing.

I knock again and no response.

I dial her phone and hear it ring inside. I may regret what I’m about to do but something in my gut tells me I need to get there. I brace my hands against the doorframe and kick it.

Chest heaving, burning to the point of pain, I rush into her apartment, frantically scanning the open living space to find her.

Just darkness and silence. A low light shines down the hall towards her bedroom.

“Ali, Ali, are you here?” Heart thumping wildly, I push open her bedroom door, a loud creaking noise sounds from the hinges. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, something in my gut telling me something is very wrong. The same feeling I got just before Scotty was shot.

“Ali are you okay. I tried knocking bu…” I freeze, unable to speak, to move. I feel the blood drain from my body.

There on the bed face down, a tangled mess of blonde hair spread across the crumpled white sheet, still wearing her black party dress, lays Ali and my alarm bells start ringing. I scan the room. It’s a mess. My eyes zone in on an empty bottle of vodka and an orange pot of pills on its side. I rush over and pick up the pot, noting the label:Ambien.

Panic floods my body. Limb's trembling, I touch her,

“Ali?” I mutter, shaking her gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Ali, baby, I need you to wake up.” I roll her on her back and her body flops like a ragdoll. I look at her face and note how pale her skin and lips are and I kneel on the bed beside her.

“Ali, no.” My voice comes out strangled and panicked. With shaking fingers, I press them to her cold skin, searching for a pulse. I sag in relief when I find one, albeit faint. “Ali no no. What did you do? what did you do?” I yell.

“Alice, come on, come on, wake up.” But she doesn't. I scoop her up, her body sagging in my arms and run for the bathroom,turning on the shower, hating myself for what I’m about to do to her.

“Come on, baby, wake up, wake up,” I say, my voice not sounding like my own, it's loud and guttural. Only once before has my voice sounded like this and it triggers my fight or flight mode.

“Come on, Alice, wake up,” I bellow, shaking uncontrollably as she hangs in my arms, limp and lifeless. I tilt her head back under the running water and nothing. She doesn’t flinch.

She’s dying, and I can’t save her.

Yes, you can,I tell myself.

Tapping her cheek, my voice strangled, I beg her to open her eyes. “Ali. Please wake up. You’re not dying on me, you hear me, wake up,” I roar, panic well and truly taking over.

Still nothing. I know there is one last thing that could work. Something I’ve had to do once before with Tori and something I hoped I’d never have to do again. “I’m sorry, baby…” I open her mouth pushing my fingers down her throat till I hit the back, and she gags. Turning her head, vomit shoots from her as she chokes and splutters.

“Yes, baby, get it out. Get it all out,” I mutter, relief flooding me as she expels the contents of her stomach.

She’s coming back to me.

Small gasps escape her, her eyes flickering open, and the tiniest bit of color flushes her cheeks.

“Fuck, you're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” I repeat as I hold her to my chest and sag against the shower wall, sinking to my knees, the water beating down on us. I cradle her in my arms rocking her like a small child as she catches her breath, my body trembling as the adrenaline works its way through my body as realization hits me: if I’d been a few minutes later, I would have lost her.

Chapter Forty-Six

Ali

Pain throbs in my head as I open my eyes and blink. The room is dark, only the streetlamp shines through the half-drawn drapes. I move to shift away from the light and my stomach rolls. I take a deep breath, hoping the feeling passes. Swiping a hand over my forehead, a damp strand of hair sticks to my face.

Why is my hair wet?

I look down at my Victoria Secret sweater and pink sweatpants. I don’t remember putting these on, nor do I even remember getting home. I shift again, an uncomfortable pain in my back but it makes my stomach roll once again, a seasick sensation hits me, and I lift my head over the edge of the bed, knowing my legs won't carry me to the bathroom, I’m thankful a trash can is beside my bed, and I empty the contents of my stomach into it. It burns, an acid taste fills my mouth, and aflicker of a memory of sitting in my shower in Harry’s arms comes to view as another wave of nausea hits me.

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