Page 83 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

Darkness dripped into my subconsciousness. Every so often, I’d hear distant noises, but I could never determine whether they were real or not.

Run, Rora.

My brother’s voice full of shrill panic sent shivers down my spine.

Sharing is caring.

A whimper tore from my lips as I attempted to shift, but my body felt too heavy.

“It’s okay.” A familiar voice I couldn’t quite place whispered. A large hand shifted me around, then lifted me up into a sitting position. “Drink.”

Something cold pressed against my lips and a groan escaped me. I didn't realize I was dying from thirst until a droplet of cool water touched my lips. I opened my mouth and eagerly drank.

“Slow.”

I obeyed, though I was greedy for more. The cool liquid felt good going down my throat. My mouth was dry like the Sahara Desert. Someone pulled the cup away from my mouth. Every shuffle of material sounded too loud to my ears. Curiously, my eyes fluttered open, but I closed them again when pain cut through my head.

Another groan escaped me, and I licked the droplet of water on my lip.

“Relax.”

Something churned in my stomach, and I leaned over the bed just in time to throw up everything in my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I got sick, but this sucked. Stomach acid tasted bitter and burned my throat. My body wretched and a set of strong hands held me as I threw up again.

“It’s okay.” The voice was cold. Familiar. I couldn’t place it. Yet, it didn’t scare me.

To my horror, tears streamed down my face. I felt horrible. My ears rang, my throat was singed, and my head pounded. I hadn’t felt like this since-

I remembered this exact feeling. The last time I felt like this was when I was put under. At the dentist. Having my wisdom teeth removed.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and forced my eyes open. I ignored the pain in my head and turned my head to find a pair of pale blue eyes staring at me. We stared at each other as fury slowly rose within me and licked at my skin.

“You drugged me,” I accused him, my voice hoarse like sandpaper.

The bastard didn’t even bother to deny it. If I wasn’t so damn weak, I’d murder him. Even in my nauseated state, his actions filled me with an anger so deep I saw red. And stars, but mainly red.

I took calming breaths, the stale acid breath that was mine, entering my nostrils, and I had to fight the urge to gag.Breathe, Aurora. Breathe.

Anger was so bitter that it swelled in my chest, grabbed my throat, and squeezed until I saw stars. It was my biggest weakness. My temper.

My hand shook with anger as I shoved him away and stumbled into the bathroom; Alexei right on my tail. I barely made it until my legs gave out, and I would have found myself on my knees if he hadn’t been behind me to wrap his arms around me.

“I’m going to kill you,” I rasped and the irony of my situation didn’t escape me. I was too weak to stand after being drugged, and I was threatening to kill my abductor.

He didn’t comment, and I didn’t need to look behind me to feel his apathetic stare. I whimpered as my stomach rolled.

“I need ginger ale,” I muttered as a shiver ran down my spine. Nobody but my brothers knew about my reaction to sedatives. It took only once to experience it and realize my body didn’t react well to it.

And this fucking asshole pumped me full.

Slowly, lowering down onto my ass, I put my head between my knees and breathed evenly. This was the worst kind of feeling. It felt like it was happening to someone else, yet the nausea and pain were mine. I didn’t bother to check if Alexei was with me or not. I just prayed ginger ale would magically show up in front of me so I could settle my stomach. Or sugar water… something.

The sadistic part of me wanted to call my brothers and tell them what this jerk did to me. Then I’d sit back and watch them kill him as I ate popcorn and drank soda. Gosh, I could almost picture how much fun that would be. I might save him at the last minute. Or maybe not. It was still up for debate, considering how bad I felt.

The pop of the soda sounded next to me and my eyes snapped to it. Alexei lowered to my level, handing me the soda. I cringed my nose.

“I don’t drink out of the can.” Okay, I sounded a bit bratty, but growing up with a germaphobe of a father rubbed off a bit. After you hear comments about rats licking those can tops in the storage warehouses for the entirety of your childhood, it was hard to not think about it while you drank directly out of cans.

Alexei straightened to his full height, graceful as a panther, and I thought he’d leave me to my own devices, but to my surprise, he retrieved a glass, washed it, then poured some ginger ale into it and came back to me with it.

---