“The light,” she muttered as if she were hardly capable of pronouncing the words.
It was weird. There wasn’t any light on.
“Turn it on,” she almost begged.
I observed her a few seconds before realizing that what scared her wasn’t that I was in her room or the drugs or the fact that she could barely move; it was the darkness.
“You’re scared of the dark?” I asked, leaning over her and turning on the lamp on her nightstand.
Her body instantly relaxed.
I raised an eyebrow, asking myself how this chick could be so complicated. I got up, arranged her against the pillows, and then stood there a moment, making sure her breathing was normal. It was. Noah was a strong girl.
“Get out of my room,” she commanded me, and I did.
I think it was the sanest thing I did all night.
7
Noah
When I opened my eyes that morning, I felt awful. for the first time in my life, the light bothered me. My head hurt like crazy, and I felt weird all over. It was hard to explain, but I was aware of every movement, every sensation taking place in my body, and it was uncomfortable, irritating, upsetting. My throat was dry, as if I hadn’t drunk anything in a week.
I stumbled over to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.
Jesus Lord, how horrible!
Then I remembered.
And my body trembled from head to toe.
My eyes were swollen, my hair messy and pulled back in a ratty ponytail. I didn’t remember pulling it back, though. I took off my dress, brushed my teeth to clean that bitter taste from my mouth, and put on my pajama shorts and my favorite T-shirt with the holes in it.
Memories flashed through my head like stop-motion photographs. Drugs. That was all I could think. Someone had drugged me. I’d taken drugs, I’d gotten in a stranger’s car, I’d gone to a party full of goons…and it was all one person’s fault.
I walked out of my bedroom, slammed the door, and went to Nicholas’s room.
I didn’t bother knocking before opening the door to what looked like a bear cave with a person under a dark blanket in a huge bed.
I walked over and shook the person sleeping there like a log, as if nothing had happened, as if it wasn’t his fault someone had drugged me.
“Dammit,” he muttered without opening his eyes.
His disheveled hair was camouflaged against the dark-satin sheets. I pulled hard on the cover until he was exposed. I didn’t care.
Fortunately he wasn’t naked, but his white boxers did throw me off for a second. He was sleeping facedown, giving me the perfect panorama of his broad back, his long legs, and—forgive me for saying so—his splendid ass.
But I forced myself to focus on what was really important.
“What happened last night?” I nearly shouted, shaking his arm so he’d wake up.
He grunted and grabbed hold of my hand, still with his eyes closed, and with one jerk, he pulled me into his bed.
I fell down next to him and tried to struggle away, but it was futile.
“Even when you’re high you can’t shut the fuck up,” he said before finally opening his eyes.
Two blue irises focused on mine.
“What do you want?” he asked, letting go of my wrist and sitting up.
I got out of the bed immediately.
“What did you do to me last night while I was out of it?” I asked, fearing the worst.
If that bastard had done something to me…
“Oh, I did it all,” he said contemptuously and then laughed. I struck him on the chest.
“Moron!” I shouted, feeling the blood rise to my cheeks.
He ignored me and stood up.
Then someone or something entered the room: a creature covered in hair dark like his owner’s, dark like that damned room.
“Hey, Thor, you hungry, boy? Have I got a tasty treat for you.” He grinned at me as he said this.
“I’m going.” I walked toward the door. I never wanted to see that idiot again, and knowing that I’d have to made my mood even worse than it already was.
Nicholas intercepted me in the middle of the room, and I almost ran into his bare chest.
“I’m sorry about what happened last night.” For a few miraculous seconds, I thought he was sincerely apologizing. How wrong I was: “But you can’t say a fucking word, or I’m screwed.” Now I knew all he wanted was to save his ass. As for me, he couldn’t care less.
I laughed bitterly. “So says the future lawyer.”
“Keep your trap shut.” He ignored my comment.
“Or what?”
He eyed me up and then jabbed a finger under my right ear, in a place that meant something special to me. “Or else that knot might not be strong enough to hold you.” What did he know about my tattoo or about how strong I was?
“How about you ignore me and I’ll ignore you. We’ll deal with the brief moments when we have to be together. Sound good?” I walked around him and left.
Thor wagged his tail, watching me go.
At least the dog didn’t hate me anymore, I told myself by way of consolation.
I went straight back to my room. I didn’t like not remembering what had happened—not at all. Nicholas could have seen something in me that I never wanted to show him, and that was what made me hate him in that moment. I’d struggled to understand how I could manage to reject him so forcefully in so little time, but it was normal if I considered that Nicholas Leister represented absolutely everything I hated in a person: he was violent, dangerous, an abuser, a liar, threatening…everything that made me take off running in the opposite direction.
I saw my purse had been slung down on the bed. I grabbed my phone and plugged it in. Dammit, Dan was going to kill me. I’d promised him I’d call him last night. He must have been climbing the walls. Fucking Nicholas Leister! Everything was his fault!
When I turned on my phone and opened my messages, I saw that there were no new ones—no missed calls, either. That was strange.
It was beautiful out, a perfect day for the beach or to take a swim for the first time in that amazing pool. If I’d been in a better mood, I’d have gone outside to sunbathe, read a good book, and try to forget what had happened or, even worse, what might have happened. With those thoughts in my head, I walked into my big fancy closet. In a drawer, I saw a ton of swimsuits, but I didn’t stop looking until I found a one-piece.
I looked at my naked body in the mirror, with special attention on that part I felt mortified about. But I decided to put it out of my mind. After all, I was at home.
In a sundress and with a violet towel, I walked out of my bedroom to face my first breakfast in that house.
It was unsettling walking around here. I felt the same as I had when I was a little girl and would sleep over at a friend’s house and at night I’d want to go to the restroom but wouldn’t because I was scared I’d run into someone from their family.
Downstairs, I found my mother in her white-silk robe and sandals with Will, who was wearing a suit, ready for work.
“Good morning, Noah,” she said. “How’d you sleep?”
Fabulously, considering I was unconscious and with a fiendish headache.
“It wasn’t the best night I’ve ever had,” I answered.
She came over to kiss me on the cheek.
“Did you have fun with Nick and his friends?” she asked hopefully.
Oh, Mom, you can’t even imagine. You have no idea who your new stepson is.
“Speak of the devil,” William said behind my back, getting up from the table just as Nick entered.
“What’s up, guys?” he said on his way to the fridge.
“Did you have fun last night?” my mother asked him. “How was the movie?”
Movie?
I started to ask, “What?,” but Nick slammed the refrigerator shut and turned around with an icy stare.
“It was great, right, Noah?”
I realized there I had him. If I told the truth, who knew what his father would say. I could even go to the police and turn him in for offering alcohol to a minor—me—for letting someone drug me, and obviously for leaving me out in the middle of the road.