“Doc has been here. He said you’re okay not to go to the ER,” Jenn said, her voice full of concern.
“The ER?”
“The bottle was empty when I found you. Some of it had spilled on the floor, but I wasn’t sure how much you drank.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and that hurt. I stopped squeezing, and that hurt too. “I’m—I’m so sorry, baby. I’m such a disgrace.”
“Hush, now,” her gentle voice soothed. “You are a woman in pain, going through a rough patch. Everyone deserves a breakdown when their world is breaking down. Don’t call yourself a disgrace. Just rest. Please.”
I swallowed dryly around the urge to insist that I was a disgrace and I didn’t deserve this gentle treatment, but nausea and a full-body malaise kept me from forming words for several seconds.
“Can you swallow anything?” she asked, her hand with the cloth moving away. “Doc said to drink Pedialite. I have a glass for you, whenever you’re ready.”
I nodded and gingerly lifted my head. Jennifer brought a straw to my lips and the saccharine sweetness of what tasted like sugar-water coated the fuzz on my tongue.
“Blah.”
“Cletus got the grape flavor. Doc said it was better than the others.”
I groaned again, laying back. “Cletus is here?”
“No. Not—”
“Please tell me your fiancé did not get an eyeful of his future mother-in-law drunk as a skunk?”
“Momma, please don’t worry about that.” She sounded fretful, worried.
I forced my eyes open, wincing at the dim light. The pain served me right. “Did he see me?”
Jennifer came into view. I saw she was dressed in a red dress and her newly dyed brown hair—her natural shade, as she took after my side of the family and not her father’s—lay in soft, long waves, framing her gorgeous face.
So pretty. She’d always been so pretty. Like an angel.
My mouth curved at the sight of her, but then I frowned. “You’re all dressed up? Aren’t you supposed to be at the Winstons’?”
“I came by this morning to see if you wanted to come and I—I—” She huffed. “I found you on the kitchen floor with an empty bottle next to you, and you were crying.”
It took me longer than it should’ve, but I fumbled to find her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, baby. I am sorry. I have no excuse. I’m a disgrace and I can only promise to—”
“You said you went to the Dragon.” She squeezed my hand, but her eyebrows were pulled together, her tone fierce. “You said you were with a man?”
I swallowed convulsively, trying to withdraw my hand. “I—”
“How did you get home?”
“I drove home, after.” My voice barely a whisper, I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about this now. Not yet.
“You drove drunk?” Her tone bordered on a screech.
“No. No, I wasn’t—I was sober when I left. Completely.”
“But—did he—did he force you—”
“No, baby. No.” Despite the cutting pain, I forced myself to sit up and worked to arrange my features in a mask of calm and serenity. I was good at wearing masks; I had a lifetime of practice. “Please, it was nothing. Please don’t worry about it. It was a—a lapse in judgement, fully consensual, and it’s done.”
“But—”
“Honestly, Jennifer. You don’t need to worry about me. I learned my lesson.” I patted her hand, glad for the lack of light. I imagined the shade of my skin was quite green. “That was the first and last time I will ever go to the Dragon and I will never be so foolish as to drink myself stupid again. I don’t wish to feel like this ever. I swear, I’ve learned my lesson. And it’s so embarrassing, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t force me to discuss it further.”
Jennifer considered me for a moment, a concerned frown marring her brow, and then she nodded. “I understand. I won’t make you discuss it, as long as you promise me no one hurt you.”
Suppressing the memory of Isaac’s indifference and how he’d thrust me into my car and walked away without looking back, I pasted on a smile. “Oh no, honey. No one hurt me,” I lied and reached for her hand again. “I need to get up and make some bacon and eggs.”
“What? Why?”
I hesitated just a second before telling a half truth, “I heard it’s good for hangovers.” I’d never told Jennifer about how much experience I had with nursing a person’s hangovers. Growing up, if my father wasn’t drunk, he was hungover. Bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, and toast with butter—and maybe a Bloody Mary, just to take the edge off.
“Are you sure? You didn’t . . . form an attachment?”
My false smile widened and I shook my head, the simple act causing bile to rise up my throat. Once I had it under control, I said, “I suspect, my darling, the only attachments I’ll be forming in the future are with my grandbabies, when or if you and your future husband decide to give me any.”
She blushed. Even in the low light, I could see the red rise over her cheeks, and my smile grew a little less forced.
Lord, if Cletus Winston isn’t worthy of my girl, please forgive me for murdering him, and also please help me figure out how to hide the body.
Chapter Four
*Jason*
“I am not young enough to know everything.”
Oscar Wilde
When I came to, I thought I’d dreamt the whole thing. This lasted for a good five seconds before panic set in. It wasn’t a dream and Diane wasn’t here. She’d left, which meant she’d likely been wandering the halls without protection at some point.
“Shit!” After jumping from the bed, I tugged on clothes, still stretching my shirt to pull over my head as I opened the door. But then I came up short.
“Repo.”
I blinked twice. “Twilight,” I said and took a step back, wishing I’d rubbed some sleep out of my eyes before bolting from the bed.
After another few swift blinks, he came fully into focus. Our newest recruit always wore a pissed off expression, but this was something different. And he wasn’t supposed to be here. He was on assignment in Alabama.
“A moment of your time?” He straightened from the wall where he’d clearly been waiting for me and strolled forward.
“I can’t right now.” Straining my ears for shouts and screams, I moved forward to scan the hall. If someone had grabbed her, I hoped she was giving them holy hell right now.
“She’s gone.”
My eyes sliced back to Twilight and narrowed. “Who?”
“My . . .” he lifted his chin, cold blue eyes drilling into me. “Diane Donner. She’s gone. Now, may I come in?”
I didn’t mind the undercurrent of aggression in the younger man’s voice. I was too busy being relieved. It was stupid of her to leave without waking me. It was also stupid of her to come here in the first place, but now I knew she’d been escorted out of the Dragon without incident, and by her son, I could breathe easier. She was safe. That’s all that mattered.