Page 105 of Crave
I was spiralling. Drowning.
The night spun sideways, colors bleeding at the edges, turning everything grey.
“Hey!”Someone yelled in my ear.
I turned my head, the ocean of people all around me nothing but a washed out haze. My pulse thundered, hard and erratic, thrumming through my skill like a war drum. The drugs were hitting harder than they should.
Fucking laced.
I knew it the second the last line burned through my system. Something else was in there, mixed with expensive cocaine.Something that made the world too bright, too loud, too fucking surreal. My fingertips tingled, my skin burned, and my head felt like it was floating three feet above my body.
But I still felt her.
A hand on my chest, small but firm, pushing, steadying.
“Whoa, easy there, baby.”
Her voice slithered over my skin like silk, soft and syrupy sweet, but it was fake—too fake. I blinked and tried to focus, her eyes and face nothing more than a haze. A mask, that’s what she wore. One just like all the others. Warmth against my chest as she pressed against me. She smelled like cheap floral perfume and sweat, the scent clashing with the smoke and whiskey clinging to my clothes.
“You okay?” She ran her hands down my arms, her nails scraping just enough to feel deliberate. She was smiling—I could hear it in her voice, even if my vision was too fucked to focus on her face.
I blinked hard, trying to clear the static in my head, but everything lagged, the movement delayed, like I wasn’t inside my own fucking body.
She took a step closer, pressing herself into me.
“Come on, let’s get you to your car,” she murmured, like she was doing me a favor. Like she was helping.
I let her.
I let her slide under my arm, let her guide me through the jostling bodies and between the tables to the darkness and the quiet. One hard shove and the cold, night air slammed into me.Air so crisp it felt like I’d been under water this entire time. Maybe I was…maybe this was me drowning?
“Come on, baby,” she crooned, pulling me with her.
I followed, my feet moving on their own as I stepped out of the club and into the night, my legs feeling like they weren’t entirely mine. My head was a pressure cooker, the heat of the drugs pressing against the inside of my skull.
Bang.
I jerked hard with the sound of the door closing behind me. But her hands were there holding me in place as she dragged me deeper into the alley.
My vision tunneled.
I knew this game.
I knew this fucking game, and still I fucking walked into it.
Stupid fucking asshole!
“Just up here, baby,” she drawled, pulling my attention toward her.
I tried to focus on her face, tried to gather the last few fucking cells inside my brain to try and keep me alive.
The alley was quiet, too quiet.
One stumble and my back hit the rough brick wall, before I could react shadows rushed toward me. Then came their hands.
Too many hands as they searched my pockets, yanking free my wallet.
“His keys,” a man growled. “Don’t forget his keys.”
