Page 12 of How to Hack a Hellhound
I drank from a water bottle he held up to my lips.
He helped me walk out a back door, and I thought James was thrown over his other shoulder.
I sat in a passenger seat, and he was putting something in the trunk. I tried to move my legs to get out of the car, only he was there, pushing them back in, reclining my seat, fastening my seatbelt, and closing my door.
“Shhh…” he whispered, getting into the driver’s seat. “You just rest now and let that shit get out of your system.”
“I don’t wanna…” I mumbled, thinking that I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be sold or raped or killed or whatever was about to happen.
“Rest, Quinton,” the voice commanded, and there was a firm hand on the nape of my neck, drawing my head down to rest against the seat, and then there was blackness.
Something was banging, and I thought maybe I’d overslept, and the banging was coming from the door. Only I turned my head, and the ache that shot through it made me realize the banging wasinside, not outside. My heart was a drum beat in my brain.
I laid still and tried to figure out what the hell was going on, and then I remembered the bits and pieces from last night. My eyes shot open, and I groaned at the little light that was coming in through a mostly drawn curtain.
I was not in my bed. I was not in my apartment. There was a warm body at my back, and I had no idea who the fuck it was.
My breathing stopped for a moment, and then I took stock. I had on sweatpants and a t-shirt. My head felt like shit, but my body felt… ok. My throat wasn’t sore, and my ass didn’t hurt. My left leg felt vaguely bruised, but otherwise, I didn’t feel like I normally would after a night of sex.
The room was… nice. I faced a gray-colored wall, minimally decorated but clean, and there was a nightstand with water and orange juice on it next to the bed. There was a window by the foot of the bed with dark blue curtains that only let a sliver of light in. The door had to be on the other side of the bed.
I slowly scooted toward the wall, sort of rolling off the bed and stifling the groan that wanted to escape at moving my aching head. I could do this. I’d had hangovers that were worse than this. I could sneak out of here, and get away from…
I looked up at the bed, and my heart stopped.
Aiden was laying there, sound asleep.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I whimpered, scooting back against the wall, holding my head in my hands and rocking. They’d gotten Aiden? I hadn’t thought about my roommate. I’d thought he was safe. He should have been home, inside a nice locked apartment with a security alarm. No, that wasn’t right either. Kushiel and Cassius were supposed to be hanging out with him. Fuck—had they gotten them too? I had to hope they could take care of themselves. As for Aiden—I wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. I’d fucking kill them with my bare hands before they touched my roommate.
I felt a hand at the back of my head and a water bottle held up to my lips.
“Hey, it’s ok. Have a drink. Dex said you’d probably have a headache,” Aiden murmured.
I lifted my head, squinting at him. “Dex?” I asked, confused as fuck. Why wasn’t Aiden panicking? We’d been fucking kidnapped, for Christ’s sake.
“Yeah. He called Cassius and said you were staying here, because you’d gotten pretty drunk. They told me I was welcome to come stay too, and I thought that would be good,” Aiden murmured, pushing the water bottle at me again.
I grabbed it and took a small swallow, resisting the initial urge to throw up as I drank a sip. I breathed deeply until the feeling passed then took another cautious swallow.
“Here?” I asked, looking at Aiden.
Aiden flashed an almost smile at me. “Yeah, I figured waking up in a strange place would freak you out. I’d freak out. I’d probably still have freaked out even knowing where I was if you weren’t here.” Aiden shrugged, but he still hadn’t told me where “here” was.
I cleared my throat, then asked, “Where are we, Aiden?”
“Oh! Sorry. We’re at Dex’s place.” He got up then, walking around the bed to the door, which I should have noticed earlier was open. Aiden hated a closed bedroom door. He looked out of the bedroom as he answered. “Well, I guess it’s technically Dex’s place? I don’t really know. It’s like a pool house, I guess? On his property? One of his properties? I didn’t ask too many questions, because I was more worried about you. But there’s a kitchen and living room out here and everything.”
“What happened to me?” I asked. I knew it was kind of a stupid question—if anyone should know that, it would be me.
“I guess you went out and got drunk,” Aiden said, and I could tell he was trying not to sound judgmental. “A friend of Dex’s knew you from the coffee shop or something because they called Dex, and he went and brought you back here.”
“I didn’t drink,” I muttered, letting the flashes from last night replay in my head.
Aiden turned around, looking at me and raising his eyebrows.
“Well, I did have soda. The bartender drugged me,” I admitted. “I thought he was my friend, and he drugged me.”
“Holy shit, Q, are you serious?”
