“And you,” I snap, turning on Tap. “Where were you?”
He stares at the floor. “Downstairs.”
Diesel folds his arms. “With a woman?”
Tap nods once. Shame thick in the air.
“Jesus Christ,” Diesel mutters.
Something in me snaps. I grab the nearest bottle of whiskey and hurl it at the wall. It shatters into a rain of glass and burning alcohol.
“You realise she could’ve beenkilled?” I roar. “Do you get that? Because right now we’re having this conversation—” I jab a finger toward them, “—but if things had gone another way, I’d be sending you both to fucking Hades.”
“Pres, I am so fucking sorry,” Cole says, his voice raw.
“Get out,” I snarl. “And stay out of my face until I decide I can stand to look at you again.”
They leave fast.
Diesel sinks into a chair with a sigh. “What a night. Is Eden okay?”
I drop into my seat, rubbing my hands over my face. “I don’t know, brother. She’s acting weird. I think she might’ve cheated on me.”
Diesel scoffs so hard he chokes. “Kade. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m serious,” I snap. “She froze when I kissed her. She’s hiding something.”
“Yeah,” Diesel says. “Embarrassment. Shame. She passed out next to a bin.Everyonepisses up those things. You think she wants you to picture her lying in that filth?”
I lean back, but the unease in my chest doesn’t budge.
“You always tell her off for how much she drinks,” Diesel continues. “She probably didn’t want the lecture. Probably woke up confused and mortified.”
I want to believe him, but the image of her flinching from my touch won’t leave me.
“We’d better get to work,” I mutter, pushing the doubt down. “This bullshit can wait until later.”
EDEN
“Take your time,” Martha whispers, squeezing my hand so tight it almost hurts.
I wipe my face again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve done it. My eyes feel raw, swollen.“I feel stupid,” I choke out. “Why can’t I remember anything?”
“If you were drugged,” Fern says gently, brushing hair off my cheek, “that’s normal. It scrambles everything. Makes the night foggy. Confusing.”
“It’s like…” I swallow hard. “There are pieces. Just pieces. Hazy. Not fitting together.” My throat tightens. “And I’m sore.” The words barely make it out.
Martha’s face crumples. Fern’s eyes fill instantly. I point weakly toward my lap, shame flooding me so fast it makes me dizzy.
“I’m sore,” I repeat, voice breaking. “And—” I gulp a breath, sobs shuddering through me. “I was bleeding.”
The room goes silent.
Martha pulls me into her arms before I can fall apart again, and Fern presses a shaking hand to my back, grounding me.
“Shit, Eden, are you saying what I think you are?” Fern whispers, her face draining of colour.
“I don’t know,” I sob. “Nothing is making sense. Nothing.”
