She pursed her lips like she was trying to stop a wave of nausea, holding it for a few seconds before inhaling deeply through her nose. “My stomach is all twisty and yuck,” she murmured, and her eyes floated toward a plate of dry toast that had been left on a tray beside her bed. I reached over and grabbed the dish, handing it to her. She forced a thankful smile, picking up a piece daintily and nibbling at the edge. “My head feels weird. Foggy. Thick.”
I nodded, my shoulders slumping. “Shotgun said it was likely Ketamine. It’s used sometimes for pain or anesthetic. It can apparently affect your memory, so don’t be surprised if everything from last night is kind of a blur.”
“It is,” she whispered, her nose crinkling. “How’d I get here?”
I gave her the short version of the story. Her ringing me. Me finding her and ringing Tyler. Tyler showing up with the club and scaring the bejesus out of Cooper and his friends. I decided to skip the part where Shotgun had dragged me back to the clubhouse so he could spank me for leaping to her rescue first before calling for help.
Holly pressed her hand to her forehead and groaned loudly. “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath before shaking her head. “Do you know what I’m going to have to do to get them not to completely excommunicate me?”
I sat up straight, letting out a soft laugh, thinking maybe she was fucking kidding. “You’re joking, right?”
Her eyes met mine beneath her brow. There was this strange determination in them, where they’d been broken and weak only seconds ago, I could suddenly see her planning.
Planning how she would get back in the good books of the bastards who fucking drugged and possibly raped her.
She shoved the food to the side, crawling across the bed and snatching up the bag I’d brought in, pulling it into her lap and beginning to dig for clothes.
“Holly…” I tried, my heart beginning to race as she found a tank top and some sweatpants, laying them out before going to work on the line in her arm. The fucking needle that was threaded into her skin, feeding her the fluid she desperately needed to try and wash out the fucking drugs. “Holly!”
I reached across the bed, grabbing her hand before she could rip the line from her arm.
She jerked back, shoving me away but at least turning her attention back to me. “What!”
“You need to stop this,” I declared sternly.
“I want to get out of here,” she cried, her eyes filling with tears.
“That’s not what I mean, and you fucking know it,” I argued and leaped off the bed, at this point, not giving a flying fuck if the entire hospital heard me. “You need to stop this. You need to stop—”
“Stop what? Having fun? Being a college student?” She scoffed out a sarcastic laugh, swiping at the tears that were dripping down onto her cheeks now. “Millions of other college kids do it every single year. They drink a little too much. Get in a little over their head. It’s the lifestyle.”
“Sure, but they do it with people they trust to have their backs. They don’t get drunk with the Beta Beta frat boys from hell,” I hissed. It felt like someone had their hand wrapped around my heart, squeezing it slowly because this wasn’t fucking hard enough as it was. “They’re not good people, Holly. Next time, I’m going to show up, and I won’t be calling the boys for help. I’ll be calling the fucking police to come and remove your body.”
“Then next time, I won’t call you,” she snapped.
“Not that it matters if you did. Because Shotgun’s not going to let me answer anyway. He’s practically banned me from seeing you,” I spat, throwing my hands in the air. “He thinks I’m going to get myself killed coming to your rescue. And you know what, he’s probably fucking right because I love you. And if you call, I will fucking come. Every. Goddamn. Time.”
The words got caught in my throat, twisted in this web of emotion I seemed to be winding myself tighter and tighter inside.
“I don’t need you to rescue me.”
“Then stop fucking acting like someone who needs rescuing.”
The air was thick, a storm building, brewing—one I was scared could destroy us.
“Why would you let him do that?” she whispered suddenly like her brain had just connected the dots, and she understood the repercussions of what was going on. “You were my friend before you joined the club.”
“I have to follow—”
“Orders? Right. So, the club comes first.” She laughed, though it was dark and sent chills down my spine. “The club and their fucking rules. You’re going to let them dictate your life and our friendship.”
“I’m going to let them fucking protect me,” I rasped, feeling a wave of emotion hit me, stealing my breath. “Because do you know how fucking long it’s been since someone protected me? Do you know how long it’s been since someone has put me fucking first? You want to sit here and act like I’m turning my back on you, but where were you, Holly? Where were you when Cooper called me a whore in front of everyone? Where were you when I was trying to fucking keep you alive, and he was telling me that no one would believe me anyway if I tried to fight him?”
I couldn’t breathe.
My chest heaving painfully.
Because I realized that once again, another person I thought loved me had failed to put me fucking first.
The door opened behind me. I knew it was him, but I couldn’t move. Tears streamed down my face, and I watched Holly through the blur.
Waiting.
For what?
For fucking anything.
For her to say she was sorry.
For her to tell me to go and fuck myself.
But she just sat there, her eyes glazed.
Like she was numb.
“That’s enough,” Shotgun’s deep voice ordered, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and gently pulling me back against his chest. I allowed him to take the lead because that was how we worked. When I felt lost or out of control, he stepped in. He balanced me. And I wasn’t sure at that point whether I really had the consciousness to know what the right thing was to do. Especially when my anger began to fade, and the panic started to set in.
Good work.
Show another person why you’re not worthy.
Show them why you’re the problem.
Why would she want to fight for you?
Why would she want to stick around?
“Tyler, stay with Holly. Make sure she gets home safe.”
“I don’t need your charity, Shotgun,” she hissed under her breath, her words hitting my body like gunshots in the chest.
“Don’t push me, Holly,” Shotgun growled, holding my body against his and turning me toward the door. “The only charity you’re getting is me leaving Ty here and not sticking around myself because you don’t wanna fucking hear the words I have to say to you right now.”
Panic quickly replaced the anger in her eyes.
So it should.
Anyone who didn’t take a threat from Shotgun seriously was a fucking idiot.
Ty slipped through the door as Shotgun guided my body out into the corridor, closing the door behind him, but not before I heard my friend let out a heart-wrenching sob.
“Let’s go home—”
I broke, shoving my hands against his chest and putting some distance between us. He held his hands up, letting me escape but watching me with narrowed eyes.