Anton never let me drink alcohol, said it dulled the senses. Of course, he couldn’t have that. He wanted me to feel everything.
Balen said, “Get her a piña colada.”
“Yeah, piña colada,” Delara agreed.
The waitress nodded before wandering off and disappearing in the crowd.
When the drink came and I took a sip, Balen smiled at me because I kept on sipping. The drink was sweet, which meant it was probably fattening. Nothing this delicious could be without fat.
Stop. It’s okay to have one drink.
But somewhere inside, I fought the guilt that sucked away my resolve to enjoy something this once, a battle that persistently left me exhausted and uncertain of who I was.
Delara leaned forward, talking to Danni about an art gala that was in six months, when the blond playboy, Jedrik, approached the table. He caught my eye and put his finger to his lips, winking at me.
I didn’t know what he was doing until he snuck up behind Delara, hooked his arm around her shoulders, and locked her in her chair.
I froze—eyes widening, heart pounding and my hands wrapped tight around the cool glass.
Jedrik bent, placing his mouth to her ear, and said something.
What happened next went down fast. Delara stomped both feet on the floor and knocked her chair back, throwing Jedrik off balance enough to unlock his arm. She kept the motion going and the chair flipped onto its back. Delara went with it and swung her legs over her head, kicking Jedrik in the chest. He staggered back several steps until he fell into some guy sitting at the bar.
“Sorry, man, girl trouble,” Jedrik patted the guy on the back.
Delara placed her hands on her hips and smirked at Jedrik. “Ten to six. I think you forget I’m a Tracker. I knew you were here before you did.” She laughed. “Arrow, you’re losing to a woman. Badly.”
He shrugged while ambling toward the table. “I don’t mind losing to a woman. I just hate losing to you.”
She snorted, but smiled.
“They have this stupid contest,” Danni explained, leaning across the table to catch my attention. “One point if you get out of a headlock. Jedrik just lost.”
“That’s because I didn’t want to frighten Rayne. So I took it easy.” Jedrik pulled up a chair and pushed it between me and Delara then sat. He winked at me again and grinned. “So, living with Sass?”
“Sass?” I asked.
“Yeah. I call her Sass. She calls me Arrow. Nicknames since we were little shit disturbers. Her more than me. Sass, should I tell her the story about the horse trampling—”
“No,” Delara said and shot him a scowl accompanied with a shot to the ribs with her elbow. “No stories. You exaggerate and make half the shit up.”
The waitress brought Jedrik a beer and everyone chatted and laughed while I watched and listened. I noticed Balen kept his guard up, eyes scanning the crowd and darting to the door when anyone came in. Protective. Although, I was uncertain from what.
After a couple drinks, we headed out and I think it was because of me as Delara kept asking if I was okay. I wasn’t really. The drink went straight to my head, and since I barely ate, my stomach sloshed sugary piña colada and was unsettled.
As we headed for the door, Jedrik snagged Delara’s hand and yanked her aside. He leaned in and got right in her face, and from his narrowed eyes and tense body, he was angry. When he was done saying what he had to say, Delara simply rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm, saying something back before moving toward the door. He followed, looking really unhappy; gone was the playful smirk and cute dimples.
She came up beside me. “Okay, let’s go.”
We said goodbye to Jedrik, Balen, and Danni outside the pub and headed back to the gallery. It was only a few blocks away, but after the first block, my legs began to shake and my heart rate spiked. I inhaled slow, deep breaths and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
Shit, I had to lie down. It was too much. Everything was bearing down on me all at once. Kilter leaving. Being surrounded by Scars and trying to keep my blocks up. No food in me. The alcohol. My body was shutting down and I had no way to stop it.
My knees buckled.
Delara grabbed my arm before I collapsed to the sidewalk. “Rayne! Shit, you okay?”
“Yeah. I… I, ah, tripped.” I was glad the street wasn’t well lit and Delara couldn’t see my eyes; otherwise, she’d see the lie blazing in them. Unfortunately, my body had other plans as my vision blurred and everything spiraled.
I crashed to the ground. Then blackness.
When I opened my eyes, Delara sat on the edge of the bed holding a warm washcloth to my forehead. It took a second before my vision cleared and I realized where we were. It was the bedroom, my new bedroom, in the gallery.
God, it had been months since I fainted. How did Delara manage to get me back here?
I tried to sit up, but Delara put her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get up. You’re still really pale.”
The duvet was pulled up over me, and yet I still felt chilled. I’d fainted a few times at the compound, but each time had been during one of Anton’s sessions when he pushed me too hard. “How did I get here?”
Delara removed the cloth from my forehead. “I called Jedrik. He wasn’t far.” Her brows lowered. “If I had my way, we’d be at the hospital.” Delara’s tone was soft, but there was an underlying tense tone. “But Jedrik called Anstice and we gave her your vitals and what happened, and she said you more than likely passed out.” She paused. “This isn’t the first time, is it?”