She loops a weak arm around my shoulder. “You think Mom would have been mad if I ruined my pretty face?” She laughs lightly and it quickly dies off. She blinks repeatedly, as though she sees stars or black spots. “Lily?”
“What’s wrong?” I ask her in a high-pitched voice. I shake her shoulder.
“I don’t know…something’s…not right…”
“Are you drunk?” What a stupid question to ask.
Ryke breaks through the crowd, a red welt blooming on his cheekbone. “That was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
She turns around very, very slowly. “Who’s stupid? Them or me?” She keeps blinking, and he stares at her for a long moment, seeing the oddness in her movements.
“You okay?”
“Perfect,” she says. “Are you okay?” Her eyes slowly move to his welt.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, still inspecting her state. “You know, you have pretty huge balls.”
“The biggest.” Her lips pull into a dry smile, but it falls with her eyelids.
“Daisy?” His worried voice drives knives into my stomach.
Her knees give out. And he grabs underneath her arms before she hits the floor.
“What the fuck?” I say, my heart hammering.
He lifts her up, and her head lolls back, her arms hanging lifelessly by her side.
“Daisy.” Ryke’s hard eyes narrow, and he taps her face lightly. “Daisy, look at me.” Nothing. He pinches her cheeks together and shakes her head a little. She’s out of it.
I put two fingers to her neck and feel a weak pulse. “I don’t understand. She had a beer and one glass of punch.” Well, one anda halfbut I doubt that half mattered in the grand scheme of things. Right?
Ryke rests his ear to her chest, feeling for the rise and fall of her ribs. “She’s breathing, but it’s slow.”
Okay. I bite my nails, trying to figure what could have happened. This isn’t drunk. I know whatdrunklooks like, and this…this is not it.
Ryke adjusts Daisy in his arms so he has a better hold on her, and then he pulls one of her eyelids up. “Her pupils are dilated.” His jaw hardens to stone. “Who poured her punch?”
My mouth slowly falls. “You think someone drugged her?”
“Iknowsomeone fucking drugged her.”
Jack. I scan the room and land on the black-haired guy in the kitchen. He leans against the refrigerator, pushing the magnets around with his buddy to spelllick my prick.
Ryke follows my gaze, clenching his teeth. “That him?”
“Yeah.”
“Support her for me,” Ryke says, setting my sister’s limp feet on the ground. He rests her chest against my body, and I wrap my arms around her waist, keeping her somewhat upright so she won’t thud to the floor.
“What are you going to go do?” I ask.Beat the shit out of him? Have a civil conversation? Throttle him for answers?There are so many choices.
“Stay here.”
That wasn’t much of a reply.
Before I can ask again, Ryke enters the kitchen with a dark scowl. The first thing he does: shove a muscular arm at Jack, pinning him against the refrigerator with his bicep cutting at his windpipe. The colorful magnets slide off the fridge and clatter to the floor.
“What the fuck?!” Jack curses with an English lilt. He tries to escape Ryke’s strong hold, but Ryke presses his weight against him, looking about ready to rip out Jack’s throat.
