Page 109 of Rush

My dad’s eyes go to Luke’s car that’s pulling away and then to me. “Who was that?” he asks, suspicion lining his voice.

I sigh. “Luke. My sponsor.”

“Nice car,” he comments.

“Yeah, well, addiction doesn’t discriminate. You wanna come inside?”

I walk past him, and he follows me up to my apartment in silence.

“You want something to drink?” I ask him as he takes a seat on my sofa.

“Coffee.”

I go into my little kitchen and make coffee for us both. Then, I carry them through to the living room.

“Thanks,” he says when I hand him his coffee.

I sit down on the chair, curling my feet under me, and hold my cup in my hands.

“So…” he starts.

“Can I just say something first before you start?”

“Of course.”

“I know you’re pissed and that you probably want to yell at me right now, but can we not?”

His brows draw together. “I’m not going to yell, Ari. I didn’t come here to fight. I just came to check that you’re okay. And to find out what happened.”

“You saw the video.”

“I did.”

“Okay. So, before I talk, I’m asking, do you want the actual truth or the truth that you’ve already decided in your head?” A la Ares style.

“The actual truth.”

“Okay,” I repeat. I blow on the hot liquid and take a sip before speaking again, “So, here it is…I was drugged.”

His face goes ashen, but I don’t stop talking.

“I think I was drugged by a guy called Leo Parsons; he’s a journalist with ASN. We’d met before, and I bumped into him at the auction. We were chatting. He offered to get me a Diet Coke from the bar. Aside from whoever poured my drink, he was the only one with access to it.

“A short while after drinking half of it, I started to feel weird, light-headed, and dizzy. Then, I was struggling to walk, and my speech was slurred. I knew I hadn’t had alcohol, but I didn’t know what was happening to me. I managed to get home in a cab and passed out, not before throwing up all over my floor.” I point to the damp patch on my carpet from where I scrubbed it clean earlier. “I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol.” I stare into my dad’s face, wanting him more than anyone to believe me.

“I’ve just gotten back from the hospital. Luke kindly took me to see his doctor. He tested my blood, and I showed positive for a low level of Rohypnol—the date rape drug.”

His face goes from gray to white. “Were you…”

“No,” I’m quick to reassure him.

He sits forward, putting his coffee on the table. “Are you sure?” His words are careful. “Because I’ve heard stories about that drug, how people are unconscious and don’t know what’s happening to them.”

“Dad…” I put my drink down and move to sit next to him on the sofa. I place my hand on his arm and stare into his face. I’m surprised to see the fear in his eyes. I know he loves me. I’m his kid. He has to. But, until this moment, I didn’t realize how much. “I’m sure. I left the auction as soon as I knew something was wrong. I was mostly aware by the time I made it back to my apartment. I didn’t black out until I got home.”

“Jesus Christ.” He sits forward, putting his head in his hands. “This is my fault. I asked you to go to that auction.”

“It’s not your fault.”