Page 44 of Wicked Nasty

But a few hours later, Becca slips out of my arms and sneaks onto the balcony. After waiting a few minutes, I cautiously sneak over to check if she's okay.

In the moonlight, Becca looks fucking gorgeous all wrapped in a blanket... reading something?

Squinting my eyes, I see that it's letters... and just barely make out the name Katya written on them.

Becca starts to get up and I rush back to the bed before Becca returns.

She carefully climbs in next to me, pushing the stack of letters under her pillow.

Becca is soon right back to sleep, her soft breaths soothing my anxiety.

I close my eyes and try to get a little shuteye before having to deal with this mess in the morning.

Chapter thirteen

Rebecca

HEARTBEAT

Painshootsthroughmyskull like a barrage of bullets, jolting me awake. As I struggle to sit up, I realize there are arms wrapped tightly around me. Disoriented and hungover, I groan and try to push the stranger away.

But then it hits me - this isn't a stranger. It's Danny. And we're in bed together.

Memories from last night start to flood back, but they're hazy and fragmented. I remember having a great time with Liz, but then somehow ending up at some shady underground concert with some strange man.

I can remember trying to find my way out of that musty, broken-down building and finding my car, but then… My mind is foggy.

I can't seem to shake off the feeling of dread in my stomach. Suddenly, I rush to the bathroom and vomit violently into the toilet.

Danny walks in casually, as if he's done this plenty of times before. "You good?" he asks with a smirk.

I glare at him, still trying to make sense of everything. "Get the fuck out," I manage to choke out.

His smirk widens. "You didn't say that last night."

I grab whatever I can reach and hurl it at him. "Get away from me!"

He finally takes the hint and leaves, but I can feel his presence lingering in the air like a toxic cloud. My stomach continues to churn as I empty its contents into the toilet, wishing for this nightmare to end.

Dragging my exhausted body to the bathroom, I turn the knobs on the shower until a torrent of icy water sprays out.

The frigid liquid shocks me awake as it seeps into my pores and numbs my senses. I stand there, shivering and fighting against the urge to scream, until I can't take it anymore. Finally, I shut off the water and step out.

I quickly dry off and get dressed, trying to make as little noise as possible as I descend the creaky stairs.

My heart races with anxiety as I hope that everyone is still asleep. But as I round the corner into the kitchen, Danny's mom is already there, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing look.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of bacon sizzling on the stove.

“Hey,” she says, her voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

I give a weak nod, trying to hide the fact that I feel like death. “Just a rough night. Think I might be getting sick.”

She chuckles, seeming unperturbed by my state. “Well, lucky for you, there's a cure for hangovers.”

I feel embarrassed and ashamed. “I... uh.”

But she doesn't judge me; instead, she takes my hand in hers and reassures me.

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