Page 46 of Dublin Beast

“So, he’s out then?”

“He is. Been gone a few hours.” She steps into the bedroom and takes a stethoscope out of the pocket of her lavender cardigan. “Do you mind if I give you a quick once over?”

I lay back and wave her over. “I feel like sludge, but I’m sure I’ll live. Did Bryan say what was wrong with me? Does he know what I was drugged with?”

She presses the dial of the chest piece against my skin and sends a cold shiver through me as she listens and checks my vitals. “At his instruction, I drew a sample of your blood last night and the rugged one with the russet waves and I went to a local lab to have it tested.”

I close my eyes, pleading with any force in the universe for it not to be heroine or meth or something horrible. “And?”

“Mr. Bryan mentioned that you thought you’d been injected three times. Your bloodwork showed a high dosage of tranquilizer, and of gamma-hydroxybutyric acid specifically.”

I shake my head a little, but it does nothing to clear the fog. “What’s that?”

“It’s a depressant, commonly called GHB.”

“A depressant? So, it’s not addictive or anything?”

“No, luv. By tomorrow night or maybe the day after, you’ll be right as rain. You just need to rest and give your body what it needs to get rid of it.”

I let out a long sigh. “That’s amazing. Thanks.”

“I had nothing to do with it, but I’m pleased it was good news. Now, if you’re feeling up to it, we should get you up and moving for a bit. Maybe try some food?”

The idea isn’t that appealing, but she just finished saying I need to give my body what it needs to rebound. I nod slowly. “Yeah, I think I can eat something plain.”

“That’s the spirit.” She stands, unhooks her stethoscope and drops it back into the wide pocket of her sweater. “Let’s start with some toast and a bit of fruit. Nothing too heavy.”

Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I wince as the sheet slips lower and cool air whispers across my bare skin. I glance down and realize I’m barely wrapped in a bath towel beneath the blankets.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I scan the room and find my suitcase and computer bag on the top of the dresser.

The man thinks of everything.

Fiona follows my gaze to the dresser, and gives me a knowing smile. “A courier brought that this morning. Would you like a moment to change?”

“Please.” I clear my throat. “Would you mind closing the door?”

“Of course, luv. Take your time. And if you feel dizzy or need help, just call out. I’m here to help.”

With that, she pulls the door shut behind her, leaving me alone with the first semblance of normalcy I’ve had in days.

It takes a bit to get moving but once I shuffle over to the dresser, I pull a fresh set of clothes from my suitcase—a pair of black stretch pants and a soft oversized sweater—then shuffle to the bathroom.

My legs are still unsteady beneath me and the sight in the mirror makes me wince.

It’s temporary. Fiona said that tomorrow night or maybe the day after, all this will be a bad memory.

My skin is pale, almost sallow, with dark smudges beneath my eyes. My hair is a tangled mess and still damp from last night’s shower.

I splash warm water on my face, brushing my fingers through my hair in a weak attempt at taming it.

It’ll have to do.

I leave the bedroom and step into the common area of the suite for the first time. The space is simple, with clean lines, neutral colors, and standard furnishings.

“Have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

I meet Fiona’s gaze and nod. “Thanks.”

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