Page 165 of His White Moonlight
Hard.
Loud.
And I didn’t stop until I lost my voice.
People were yelling.I didn’t know what.
Something else pierced my skin, and darkness swallowed me whole.
* * *
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I struggled to open my eyes and look for the source of the sound.The monitor next to my bed showed my pulse.Confused, I looked around the room.
Mom sat next to my bed, sleeping in her chair.
“Mom?”The sound was barely a rasp, but she woke with a jolt.
“Wrenly.Sweetie.Thank the moon.Here.”She grabbed a white cup with a straw and handed it to me.“Sip it slowly.”
The ice water felt amazing on my throat.
Slowly, pieces of what happened slipped into place.The drugged champagne.Thinking that Bennett had entered the bathroom.Getting tossed over some guy’s shoulder and almost raped.Bennett’s arrival.Lindi’s shitty attempt to deflect.Making out with Bennett in the back of his car.
I cringed and glanced down at my hospital clothes, then around the room.When I looked at Mom, she handed me my phone.
“Try not to talk.You strained your vocal cords.”
Setting my water aside, I sent her a text.
Me: How long was I out?
“Almost twelve hours.”
Me: Where’s Bennett?
“With Konni.They questioned the guy who drugged you, but he’s not talking.Yet.”
Me: He didn’t drug me.He just got paid to make me look bad.
“Do you know who drugged you?”Mom asked, leaning toward me.
Me: Yeah, I have a good idea.No proof though.
“Will you tell us who it was?”
I thought about it.What benefit would there be?Lindi’s family wasn’t as powerful as the Wulf’s or Steele’s, but they still had sway in the city.Was I worried about what they would pull?Not really.I was more concerned about whether or not Bennett would let me go once he knew how many people I’d pissed off who would like to see me disappear for good.
“Wrenly, is there a reason you don’t want to tell us?”
Me: Yes.It will create an endless cycle of concern and confinement.I don’t want to be caged anymore because the people who love me are worried.
I watched her read the message.When she looked up at me, I saw her compassion and sorrow.
