“Oh yeah, sure. Will you excuse me? I’m just going to make sure she’s okay.”
“Don’t be silly. She has her bodyguard with her. She’ll be fine.” Selena tries to hold me back, but I push past her and into the living room where a lot of the party revelers are.
There’s a commotion next to the stairs, and my heart rate picks up when I find Riku surrounded by the four guys that were with Matthew earlier.
“Where is she?” I ask as Riku takes a swing at one of them.
“She went upstairs. Go, I’ll take care of these guys,” he yells. I skirt around the fighting since Riku seems to have it all in hand, and I see Chase dive in to help. I race up the stairs to the landing, but the first room is empty. The next one has a couple on the bed, so I back out, murmuring apologies, until I catch sight of a flash of red out of the corner of my eye.
Slamming the door fully open, I find Jacinta on the bed, with Matthew’s dick hanging out above her as he strokes it.
“Oh hey, Ash, I thought I’d take your girlfriend for a spin since you’ve already had a go tonight.”
I see fucking red.
Jacinta isn’t moving, so I’m guessing the drink he gave me was roofied. Fuck, I am so stupid, but I can kick my own ass later. I run at the guy, tackling him to the side. We go down in a heap of limbs, and I start to punch his face in, losing all track of time. He’s a bloody, unconscious mess by the time Chase pulls me off him.
Riku is on the bed with a barely conscious Jacinta in his arms. “I’ll call the police,” Chase says, and Riku nods.
“Thank you.” Chase leaves to do that while Riku waves me over. “Hold her, please. I’m calling the Summers’ lawyer. He’ll meet you both at Jacinta’s hotel along with the family doctor. He can take blood samples so we can prove he drugged her.” I wince, and he raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“She may have snorted a little coke earlier this evening as well.” I look down at her, and it’s like she’s not there. The lights are on, but no one’s home. This is not going to help with all her issues.
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, I kind of thought that might be the case. Alright, you take the car and the driver, and I’ll call another for when I finish up with the police. Once they are done here, they’ll probably follow me back to the hotel.”
I bend down, help pull her bodice back up, and scoop her into my arms. Her head lolls onto my shoulder, bringing with it the smell of vomit. She groans, and I figure I’m probably going to be covered in puke, but I don’t care. It’s my fault this happened to her because I was stupid enough to take an open drink from someone. But fucking hell, giving someone a roofie is so fucking cliché.
I head down the stairs, Chase making a path through the crowd. Evie runs up to us and puts Jazzy’s cardigan over her face.
“The press is still outside,” she warns me.
“Fuck, is there a back way?”
“Yes, through the kitchen. There’s a path that’ll take you to the garage down past the pool. That’s where all the cars and drivers are parked and waiting.”
“Thank you,” I say to Evie, then I change directions, heading where she pointed. If I might have kicked one of the guys that Riku had taken care of, well, I’m not sad about it in the least.
She groans again in my arms, and I tighten my hold on her. She barely weighs anything, so it’s easy to carry her and still pay attention to our surroundings. “Hang in there, sweetie. I’ll take care of you.”
“Ash?” she slurs.
“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry I let you out of my sight.”
“Riku?” I can barely hear her voice.
“He’s fine. Matthew’s friends waylaid him so he couldn’t follow you, but damn, girl, you should see that man fight. He’s like a ninja warrior or something,” I say lightly. “He’s just fine. He’s going to see that Matthew is taken away by the police and charged.”
“Couldn’t stop him,” she mutters, still limp in my arms, then her head rolls back a bit like she’s trying to look me in the eye. “Didn’t want that.”
“Oh no, of course you didn’t. Don’t you worry, we’ll get you home and cleaned up. The doctor is coming to look at you.”
For the first time, she struggles in my arms. “No, no doctor, coke.” She’s barely comprehensible, but I think I get her meaning.
“We have to, baby. They need proof of what he did to you.”
“Don’t want family to know,” she says, and I finally understand what she’s getting at.
“Don’t worry, the doctor can’t tell anyone anything without your permission. We can say he can tell them about whatever Matt gave you but not the coke.” The halfhearted struggling stops, and she goes limp again.
