Page 14 of Fractured Constellations
“I’d be careful of any medication,” Chase whispers from across the room, and I get up to go over to him when I see he’s infront of her dresser, several bottles of pills in front of him. “Anti-nausea meds, immune boosters, and low-dose steroids.”
“Why would she need those?” Thorn queries, coming up next to us.
“I don’t know, could be multiple reasons,” Chase states, and my mind races as I run through the options. There are too many to know without asking, something which I plan to do when she feels better.
“Shit, I thought she was just lazy and antisocial, not sick,” Thorn murmurs, casting another glance at her, his brows furrowed.
“Maybe she has an eating disorder? She barely touches food at dinner,” Chase suggests, replacing the bottle and looking at her too. “Whatever it is, it’s not our problem. It doesn’t change anything.”
I’d believe him to be an unfeeling bastard if it didn’t sound like he was trying to convince himself as much as us.
“We should check on her throughout the night,” I tell them, a niggle in my gut saying that there is something at play here that we’re not aware of.
“Do what you like,” Chase huffs, striding from the room, leaving Thorn and me alone with the sleeping girl.
“You don’t think she’s sick-sick, do you, Blade?” Thorn’s voice is quiet, laced with worry, and I turn to look at him. He’s nibbling his lower lip, something he does when he’s worried. He always felt things a lot, even as a child, and Mom’s death hit him hard.
“We’ll find out,” I state, placing my hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
“Okay.” He gives me a nod, squaring his shoulders back. “I’m going to get that bottle of water from the den.”
Then he strides from the room, leaving me with our new stepsister, who is more of a mystery now than when she first arrived.
“What are you hiding, Goldilocks?” My voice is barely a breath, but she stirs a little all the same, and so with furrowed brows, I leave the room, planning on checking her every thirty minutes for the rest of the night, just to make sure she’s okay.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“FATAL ATTRACTION” BY REED WONDER
LUNA
“Urrrgghh,” I groan, my head pounding as I blink my eyes open. The light in the room is dull, the blackout blinds mostly pulled shut, thank fuck, but my head feels so heavy it takes a minute for me to remember what happened.
Last night. The party. The drink that I’m now pretty sure was drugged with something by that blonde bitch, the one who I remember being here that first night the triplets were home. The rest of the night is a little fuzzy, though I have flashes; Blade finding me, demanding to know what I’d drunk, then getting me into the truck, bringing me to my room. The other two were there as well. Then nothing.
Taking my time, I sit up, letting the room settle its spinning. Looking down, I see I’m still in my dress from the night before, though my shoes have been removed. Gently, gingerly, I swing my legs over and place my feet on the floor, letting my bare toes sink into the plush carpet.
Taking a couple of deep inhales, I push up, noticing that my door is ajar. Weird, I always shut it and usually lock it for good measure. Though I guess I should probably stop in case anything happens. Deciding to focus on one thing at a time, I push to standing, letting the wave of dizziness wash over me, leaving my fingers and toes tingling.
After that passes, I decide a shower is in order. It may help clear my foggy head and make me feel better. My skin feels gross, like there is dried sweat on it.
“One step at a time, Luna,” I coach myself, focusing on getting to the bathroom. I glance over at my dresser, my stomach clenching when I see my bottle of pills.Did they see them last night? What will they think?
“It’s none of their fucking business,” I murmur to myself, making it to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.
Stripping off, I take a long, hot shower, which does wonders to clear my head and ease the ache from my stiff joints. My mouth still feels dry as a fucking desert, so water is my next port of call. Wrapping a towel around me, I head back into the bedroom, spotting a bottle of water on my bedside table, something which definitely wasn’t there yesterday.
Shrugging and taking the gift for what it is, I open it, swallowing almost half as I stand there, dripping in nothing but a towel. It helps clear my head further, but my body shivers, despite the summer morning heat. I don’t have the air con on in my room, too often I feel cold even when it’s roasting outside.
Placing the cap on the water, I put it back on the table before heading to my closet to get dressed. Comfy leggings, a vest, and an oversized sweater are my choices. I even grab my big, fluffy slipper socks because my feet are like icicles.
I catch a glimpse of myself in my dresser mirror as I go over to take my morning meds. There are purple smudges under my eyes, and my cheeks are pale and sunken.
“Not looking your finest, Luna.” I sigh, pulling my gaze away because I couldn’t exactly help getting drugged and it clashing with my meds.
Downing my daily pills, I glance at the clock and notice the time. Ten in the morning. Hopefully the terrible triplets—their new name—have gone out and it’s safe to go downstairs for a bite to eat.
Taking my time, mostly because I’m still a little woozy, I make my way downstairs, phone in hand, and into the bright but slightly clinical kitchen. It’s modern, sleek, and has all of the top-of-the-range shit, plus a chef who comes in every day to prepare meals. Bernard—the chef—isn’t here, but I freeze when I spot all three of my tormentors, as if they were lying in wait for me.
