David.
“And who the fuck are you?” I feel the rumble of the man’s chest against my cheek as he speaks, but I can’t lift my head up to see what’s going on.
“Your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t let her go,” David says, and even though his voice remains low and calm, a promise of violence is evident in his words.
“Don’t think so, mate. This one’s mine. Go find your own.”
“What I think I’ll go find,” David drawls, his voice growing louder as he moves closer, “is the owner of thisclub, who happens to be my friend.” He’s right beside me now. “And I’ll request the video footage he will no doubt have of you slipping something into this woman’s drink.”
My stomach bottoms out. I wasdrugged?
The fact that I can’t move my legs all but confirms it.
The man’s arms loosen around me as I hear Anna’s gasp from somewhere close. “You fucking asshole!” she growls. “You’re so fucking dead! I’m calling the cops!”
The man’s hold on me grows weak, then he shoves me away, my body like a rag doll until I collide with another hard surface. A pair of strong arms wrap around me, holding me in place. A familiar, comforting scent touches my nose, and I know that as my head lolls back, without a doubt, I’m in David’s grasp.
“He’s getting away!” Anna yells from beside me, but the cold promise from David is the last thing I hear before the darkness takes me.
“He isn’t getting away with anything.”
9
I’m on a rollercoaster.
One loop. Two. Three fucking loops. Or maybe it’s the wipe out ride, the one that spins while you’re trapped against the wall. This can’t be right. I don’t go on rides; I fuckinghaterides.
What is happening? Why can’t I get off? Why won’t it stop?
I crack open an eyelid, but it’s dark. A groan rips past my parched throat as I carefully move my limbs against… soft sheets? I’m not on a ride, I’m in a bed.
The spinning slows marginally and there’s movement at the corner of my eye as I adjust to the darkness, the small slither of moonlight filtering in through the window allowing me to see enough to determine I’m in a hospital room, and someone is sitting in the armchair beside me. Before I can panic, the figure moves forward until there’s a face swimming in my direct line of vision. A very, very handsome face.
“Gianna,” David says, and I hardly recognise the soft lilt to his deep voice. “How are you feeling?”
There’s a featherlight touch on my cheek where he gently drags the back of his knuckle down towards my chin, then he stops and tilts my head until I’m looking into his concerned eyes.
“Like shit.” My voice barely sounds like my own, which isn’t surprising considering there isn’t a single drop of moisture in my mouth. “What happened?”
I try to prop myself up with a forearm but abandon that idea quick smart when another wave of nausea washes over me. It’s then I notice there’s an IV drip stuck in my arm.
“You were drugged. At the nightclub.” David’s voice loses the soft edge and his words come out clipped. He’s pissed off.
Drugged?
Questions swim around the mess that is currently my brain, but David cuts me off before I can pluck a single one and voice it.
“You’re okay. You weren’t… physically harmed,” he says with a softness in his gaze I haven’t experienced before. The sight gives me a funny feeling in my chest. Almost like a pang of nostalgia, which makes no sense at all.
“Beyond the effects of the drugs, of course,” he finishes, the anger returning.
“Really?” I ask, my mouth getting drier by the word. “Because my head feels like it’s been assaulted by a coven of ninjas.”
He huffs out a small laugh, but I sense no humour, not that I’m feeling very humorous myself. “You’ll feel rough for a while,” he says, finally lifting a glass of water to my lips and helping me take a sip. The gesture is bitter sweet. The water feels blessed on my throat, but the second it hits my stomach yet another wave of nausea rolls through me. “But you’ll be fine once the effects of the drugs wear off.”
“What are you doing here?” I sound snarky, but my head won’t stop spinning and I don’t know how to respond to this…gentlerversion of David. Where is the shark in a suit that fucked me in a hotel room then turned me inside out in his office? I let my head loll back on the pillow and shut my eyes in an attempt to quell the spinning, then settle for a gentler tone. “The last thing I remember is having a drink at the bar with Anna.Wait.WhereisAnna? Is she okay?” I try to sit up and my heart thunders as I think of Anna being drugged, but a warm hand finds mine and gently coaxes me back down, both shocking and comforting me as it wraps firmly around my fingers.
“Anna’s fine. She’s asleep on the fold out bed.”
