Page 131 of Taste of Addiction

I move into the kitchen to grab a drink, allowing the men to finish with the rest of the cleaning. Claire joins me, as I pour two glasses of pineapple juice from a pitcher in the fridge. My hands tremble as I bring the glass up to my mouth, taking slow sips as I come down from the adrenaline high.

“I’ll be back,” I mutter to Claire. “Going to go to the bathroom.”

I head toward the hallway, deciding to use the spare one instead of going up to the master. One glance in the mirror, and I shudder at my appearance. My hair looks like it barely survived a hurricane, while my makeup looks like it didn’t survive at all. I dampen a tissue, swiping the cloth under my eyes to soak up some of the runny mascara.

Once I am done freshening up, I return to the group, who has already lost a few of its members. I find my empty glass on the counter, so I refill it and continue to hydrate my body.

Claire is camped out on the sofa, with her legs curled up under her. She looks comfy, and seeing her relaxed makes me want to go join her. I feel like I’ve been on my feet all night.

As I make my way over to the sofa, it feels like the floor is moving. I feel my body drifting and flopping, as a chill runs up my spine.

“I don’t feel so g—”

“Miss McFee! Miss McFee!”

Collins. I hear his voice but it sounds like it is underwater. Everything is happening in slow motion. My body goes floppy, and I feel like my limbs are too heavy to keep me upright.

“Stay with us.”

It is Graham. I open and close my eyes as his face blurs.

“Fuck.”

“I’ve got the Narcan!” It is Owen’s voice.

“She is on something,” Graham bellows. “Someone get an ambulance here!”

“Right on it.”

There are so many voices that I can no longer tell which belongs to which person. My vision clouds, as I feel my heart rate slow down and—

Breathe. Just breathe.

The last thing I see in my vision is the boy who tried to drug and rape me at the party, the night James died.

Help! Help! He has a knife! He’s going to kill me!

And then everything fades to black.

23

“Angie?”

I jerk up from whatever surface I am lying on, thrashing my limbs around, trying to find solid ground.

“Calm down, sweetheart. Everything is okay.”

My eyes fly open, and I throw my arms around Graham who is leaning over me, eyes full of worry.

“I know who killed James. I think his killer is connected with the agency druggings and I also think—”

“What? What are you talking about?” he asks, looking back and telling everyone to clear out. I am in a room at the hospital. All three of my private doctors are hovering along the sidelines, most likely waiting for me to wake up.

“I saw him.”

“Who?”

“The guy who tried to run me and James down the night he died.”

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