Page 1 of This Is Love
1
JAXON
The intense paniccrashing through me is horrifically mirrored in Logan’s light-colored eyes and the anguish in his expression races through my system in equal measure. No matter what we think about each other, two things are obvious: We both care about Rya. And we’re both scared shitless.
My chest is heavy as I watch my stepbrother lightly pat her cheek and murmur in low tones, trying his damnedest to rouse her. It’s futile. She’s clearly been drugged out of her fucking mind.How the fuck?She’s pale, clammy, and unresponsive. Frustrated as hell, but knowing we can’t handle this on our own, I numbly dial 911, then put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter.
When I checked the long column of her throat for a pulse, I’d been unsure if there’d be one. But there is. And she’s breathing on her own, albeit shallowly.
An emergency dispatcher picks up right away. “911, what’s your emergency?”
I roughly clear my throat. “We’re in the basement of Tri-Beta on Evermore’s campus. Our friend has been drugged. We need some help.”
The conversation I have with the emergency dispatcher passes in a blur. To her credit, the woman on the other end of the call is calm as she asks me a battery of questions, but it does nothing to soothe my nerves—not even when she relays there’s an ambulance on the way. Every second that passes with Rya unconscious between us causes the torment inside me to rise, and I only barely stop myself from lashing out at Logan.
My eyes crash shut for a moment. He’s done fucking nothing wrong… except call me out on my bullshit right before we found Rya. I grit my teeth. The truth that I’ve buried deep is simply this: I know I was acting like a complete d-bag. There are so many hard, horrible feelings between Logan and me, I don’t know if that’ll ever change.
I exhale harshly and open my eyes, staring woodenly at Logan as my lungs constrict, almost as if they refuse to take in more air until this girl who’s dug under my skin awakens. And even though my biggest concern in this awful, gut-wrenching momentisRya, I can’t stop the sick slideshow of my actions this evening from spinning through my head. He’d better keep his fucking mouth shut.
Unsure how to stop the chaos in my head from bubbling out, I choose to focus on Rya… but somehow, I can’t stop myself from watching Logan’s anxious movements as he slowly loses his mind with worry. His jaw clenches as he leans over her, gently stroking her cheek. The breath that blows past his lips is ragged. Tortured. And Rya—she’s so fucking quiet. Unmoving. There’s none of the sweet laughter I’ve become accustomed to hearing from her. None of the soft smiles. The absence of the girl I’m falling for cleaves my dark heart right in two.
Logan tugs on the back of his neck, his chest jerking. He’s gonna lose it in a second, I feel it deep inside, the waves of distress and misery rolling off him and slamming into me. Swallowing hard, he gathers her to him before outright begging,“Please, Rya. Open your eyes. Please be okay.” His hands shake as he runs them over her body, ending with a gentle touch at her hairline where blood trickles from a wound. It’s anyone’s guess how that happened, and I really fucking doubt she’ll be able to tell us.
My freshman year, they made us attend this awful seminar. It’d been centered around this exact scenario—what to do after a suspected drugging, signs to look for, and suggestions for how to prevent it from happening in the first place. The university had provided the training in response to a rash of girls being roofied at an end-of-the-year celebration the previous year. Apparently, the seminar had been for show, though, because I didn’t hear about them repeating it for this year’s incoming freshman class.
I blow out a breath. One of the things I’d picked up on was that often these types of drugs cause a blackout of sorts. The victim most often doesn’t recollect anything. It’s scary as fuck. They can lose hours of time that they can’t account for, even if they were semiconscious, walked themselves home, et cetera. The idea of someone doing this to Rya makes me feel violently ill. I want to vomit up the sour thoughts that fester inside me as my gut clenches and my heart twists.
“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this,” I grind out, my jaw clenching hard enough I imagine my teeth cracking with the pressure.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, sir.” The dispatcher’s no-nonsense voice cuts through the air, jolting me from the wild ruminations in my head.
I bite back an oath, but all there is to do is wait and try not to fall apart. Another quick assessment of Logan tells me he’s rapidly spiraling, head bowed. The seconds pass so fucking slowly while anguished cries rip through my head. My throat feels thick, like I’ve swallowed gelatinous goop, but I swallow it down. “She’s gonna be okay.”
Slowly, he lifts his head, pinning hard eyes on me. “You don’t know that.” There’s an ache in his voice that makes me wince.
“Logan. You can’t fucking think like that,” I bite out, giving a swift jerk of my head. It’s all I manage before the wail of sirens rips through the night, easily audible, even from the basement.
There’s a commotion from the main floor of the frat house, and I work my jaw to the side. There’s no way Logan is leaving her side, so I force myself up off the floor, then race from the end of the hall to the foot of the staircase as the door above swings open. I hold up a hand, gesturing to them. “Down here.”
The emergency responders begin their cautious descent with a gurney and other equipment slung over their backs while Trip shouts at me from above. “What the fuck, man?”
The harsh look I shoot him shuts him right up. I stalk back to the bathroom only to find I can no longer see a damn thing because there are too many bodies in the room. I hover just outside the door as they shoot one question after another at Logan.
“How long has she been like this?”
“Was anyone with her?”
“How much did she have to drink?”
Logan’s eyes crash shut, but in his frustration, he grits out, “Two shots. That’s it. She’s notjustdrunk.”
I clear my throat, gaining their attention. “It might have been as much as fifteen minutes or more. There was a lot going on, a lot of people down here, and we aren’t sure when she went missing, but we found her only thirty seconds before we called.”
One of the responders, as he’s checking vitals, glances at the other with a curt nod. “Call came in eight minutes ago.”
Has it really only beenminutes? The wait for them had felt like a fucking eternity. I roughly jam my fingers into my hair, pushing it back while they check her over, ultimately deciding they need to get her on the gurney.Fuck.I watch their hurriedyet competent movements through a daze. Logan is the same, still kneeling on the floor of the bathroom as they lift Rya’s limp body and move her so they can exit.
A hand on my shoulder has me pivoting on my heel. Trip gets right in my face, delivering anotherWhat the fucking hell, man?without words that has me shoving him backward. “Get the fuck out of our way,” I growl as the responders shift to get past. “This was your party. You’ll be lucky if this doesn’t come down on your head.” I don’t bother waiting to see what his response is before I turn and follow Logan as he jogs up the stairs behind the stretcher with Rya’s unconscious body strapped to it.
