Page 111 of Surrendering Hope (The Hope Legacy)

I shake my head and stumble back a step. Our arms stretch as he keeps a firm grip on my hand. “No.”

He drags me through the chain link curtain covering the door. “Oh, yes,” he declares, glancing around and taking in the bright offerings. I tug on his hand. “Scared, Natia?”

I freeze, my brain shouting at me through the chemical fog not to engage. “Of course not, if you do it first…” I grin. He shrugs as a man showcasing colorful forearms as thick as tree trunks ducks through the back door. Ant points at the wall. The guy nods and beckons us towards the back. I rub my temple. Crap… life lesson for today? Never challenge a demon.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Natia

A Taurus will stay up late every night, regret it every morning, and do it all over again.

My nose wrinkles at the distinct meat smell. What is that? Is Zee trying to fry old chicken again? His bizarre logic was if you crucified the meat it didn’t matter if it was spoiled, because the cooking process would kill the bacteria.

“What is it?” a deep voice whisper yells. E. coli is my guess.

“I don’t know? But either it’s coated in blood or chilli sauce,” someone mutters.

“She’s not responding, what does she need?” someone says, Aaden I think. I drag in a breath over cracked lips and a tongue that feels like I kissed the desert.

“A curfew, a telling off about the company she keeps, and a lecture on the consequences of making poor decisions whilst intoxicated,” Zee barks. I try to move my arms, but they’re locked in a vice underneath me. Meanwhile, my head is molded into the concrete ground, with tiny stones poking my forehead as I fight my binds.

“She’s waking up,” Jed announces. “Babe?”

“Why am I locked up?” I mumble to the ground.

“Did she ask who knocked her up?” Aaden asks. With my eyes closed, I roll them, it hurts. Not a good sign. Is this a hangover? Why on earth do people drink?

A soft hand pushes my hair from my face. I pry my eyes open and I’m met with Emi’s grinning face and confirm that I am, in fact, on the floor. “Hey girlfriend, quite the night, huh?”

I grunt. “Why am I tied up?”

She frowns and glances down my body. “You’re not.”

“I can’t move my arms or my head,” I concentrate on my legs… nope. “Or my legs.”

“She’s hungover,” Jed concludes.

“Natia doesn’t get hangovers,” Zee declares, his frowning face eclipsing Emi’s. “Did you do drugs, Natia?” Oh God, did I? I’ve never done anything like that before.

“I don’t know?” I wish someone would untie me.

“What do you remember?” Aaden asks.

“Um? Noodles… karaoke, Glee, Lucifer’s balls?”

“Sounds like a fun night,” Emi says, huffing out a laugh.

“She was high,” Zee concludes.

Lysa. The smoke. Yeah, I was high and drunk. “I’m going to move you,” Zee shouts in my ear. I roll my head and come face to face with…

“What is that?” I screw my nose up and squint at the brown, congealed mess covered in red slop. That explains the meat smell.

Zee crouches and scoops me up from the floor. “I’m torn between demon remains and kebab,” he hollers.

“Stop shouting,” I snap as my useless head rolls into his chest.

“I’m not, you’re being sensitive,” Zee yells.

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