Page 80 of Wretched Soul
Kaitlyn’s face scrunches up. “You’re not any man, Shade. You’re her man, and you damn well need to stay with her tonight. I can go home and get some sleep, then come over tomorrow to help.” When I still don’t look convinced, she adds, “She needs you right now. No one else.”
“But I need to make sure you get home safely too.”
Simon’s ahead of us and looks over his shoulder. “I’ll take her.”
Something passes between the pair as their eyes meet. I guess that’s settled then.
When we reach the street, I hug Lily closer to protect her from the chill wind. Her hand lifts to my neck, but the fresh air isn’t enough to raise her to consciousness. Just the thought that Toby might have been the one to carry her away makes me want to kill him all over again.
“Thank you for tonight,” I tell Simon as he opens the limo door for me. “And I’ll clear the footage of us being in there. There won’t be any comeback for you.”
He nods. “You asked me to look out for them, and that’s all I’m doing. I’m glad I could help.”
I slide into my seat, Lily on my lap. “If you ever get tired of standing in Moncrief doorways, come talk to me.”
Simon simply nods. He’s about to close the door when Kaitlyn pokes her head through his arm. “Let me know what the doctor says,” she instructs. “And if she does need me, Simon can bring me over.” She tips her head to look up at him. “Can’t you, big guy?”
“It looks that way,” he mutters, but he doesn’t look displeased.
Chapter 27
Lily
The pillow beneath my head feels reassuringly familiar, but as I struggle to wake up, I can’t be sure I’m at home. My perfume lingers in the air, but there’s a scent that reminds me of being back at the lodge. I chase that thought, but it escapes my grasp. My tongue feels fury and my head throbs. Did I go out last night? I think so. I was with Kaitlyn. And this feels like the worst kind of hangover.
My eyelids are almost too heavy to open, and the morning light stings. As I struggle to turn on my side, I hope drunk-me last night gave a thought to hungover-me and left some water by my bed. If it is my bed. My pulse ticks up. Now it’s my feet I’m worried about. They’re snagging beneath the sheets. Or are they caught on something? Oh, shit. Something bad happened, I just know it. My feet have been tied up.
As I release a guttural sob, the mattress dips. I’m not alone. I blink, but I can’t seem to focus on the shadow looming over me. There’s a sharp sting in my arm. Have I just been injected? No, this can’t be happening. I have to get away. I pant hard as I try to move. I want to be sick.
“Lily, it’s OK. Please, just keep still.”
No. I have to fight back, but he’s pinning me down. I’m being held prisoner. Fragments of memory assault me. Leatherette upholstered seats and dim light. I’m hemmed into a corner. Trapped. Scared. I can’t escape.
My senses are all scrambled, and my brain can’t process all the information. The alien smell in my bedroom is the scent of a man. My vision is too slow to clear. All I can see is a silhouette against the low morning sun creeping through the cracks in the blinds.
“You’re safe,” he says.
A sob catches in my throat and I stop struggling. The voice isn’t the one that chased me through my nightmares. The next sob explodes from my lungs. “Shade?”
“I’m here, Slayer,” he says, his voice cracking. “No one hurt you. And no one’s going to hurt you. Do you understand?”
When I nod, he loosens the grip on my arms, but he doesn’t let go. “I need you to stay calm. There’s no need to panic. You have an IV in your arm, but it’s just saline. You’re going to be fine. Just take a moment.”
Staying on my back, I twist my head to the side. There’s a metal stand with an IV bag, and I follow the tube to my arm. There’s a trickle of blood where the cannula has pulled almost free of the tape that’s keeping it in my arm.
“It’s bleeding because you dislodged it. I’ll take it out,” Shade says, climbing off the bed. “Don’t worry, the doc showed me what to do.”
As Shade clamps the IV, I take a good look at him for the first time. My normally impeccably dressed stalker is wearing a crumpled white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dress pants. His jaw is covered in stubble, and his hair sticks up at angles as if he’s just rolled out of bed. Then I notice the armchair he’d dragged in from the living room. Shade’s suit jacket is drapedover the back, and one of my throws is puddled on the floor. He’s been here all night, watching me.
“What happened to me?”
“You went out with Kaitlyn. Do you remember that part?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say as if it’s a stupid question. I’m properly awake now. “We wanted you to think we’d gone to an Irish bar, but we’d headed for a nightclub. It was called… Syndella, I think. It was a dive.” My brow furrows. My memories are fading to black. Why is it so hard to remember?
“You had a beer.”
I wince, and not only because Shade has just taken out the IV. He’s giving me pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, but it’s a struggle to fit them together. “We were in a booth. Kaitlyn came back from the bar with two guys. And then…” I have nothing. Did I do something bad? I stare at where Shade applies pressure to the injection site with a dressing. I can’t look him in the eye. “Are you mad?”
