Page 105 of Cadence
But it doesn’t last.
Humiliation seeps in the second he presses a light kiss to my shoulder. Seriously? After everything, I go and drink myself stupid and end up back in bed with him? Heat crawls up my neck, flaming across my face.
But then my eyes settle on the cannula sticking out from my arm, the half-drained IV bag hanging from a makeshift pole.
What the hell?
“Paige,” he says again, his voice soft, careful even.
I don’t want fucking careful, not when my heart has dislodged from behind my ribs and is now hammering in my throat as fear starts taking over again.
“Maddox, what is this?” I ask, my fingers hovering over the medical tape securing the needle in place, terrified to actually touch it.
He breathes heavily, his arm stiffening as he unwraps it from around me. “It’s nothing. Just the doctor thought it was best—”
“Doctor?” I feel awful, my gut coiled so tight I think I might be sick. The only reason I would have blacked out is because Iwas… “What happened?” I don’t remember drinking that much last night. In fact, I’m almost positive I only had one. “Maddox, did that guy spike my drink?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Paige…”
I want to disappear. Crawl out of my skin. Pretend none of this happened, pretend he didn’t see me like that.
Was he the one who found me? Did he see me slumped and unconscious, no longer in control of my own body?
Shame digs its ugly claws into my bones, my skin itching with the need to feel clean again.
Sliding out from under his arm, every movement is sluggish, like my limbs are filled with lead. I grip the mattress and wait for the nausea to pass, for my vision to settle. Maddox shifts behind me, rustling the sheets, rubbing gentle circles on my back.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, my throat scratching with the lie. “Where’s my stuff?”
As I push off the bed, my knees nearly buckle. I want to scream at my own body for being so weak, for betraying me at the one moment I need it to be strong. I catch myself on the nightstand, the IV tugging sharply at my elbow.
“You should lie down— Paige!” He’s on his feet, rounding the bed as I yank the needle free, the stinging sensation making me hiss. “What are you doing? You were fucking drugged last night! Don’t you get that?”
Oh, I fucking get it, and I hate how I feel like I’m no longer in control, that last night, I lost hours of my life, never to get them back, and Maddox is only trying to help when all I want is to be alone.
I try to brush past him, hating how warm the room suddenly feels. Hating that I remember how good it felt to sleep next to him. Back when things were simpler, when they were good.
But things aren’t good now.
“Here,” he says, stepping in front of me with a water bottle. “Let me order some toast from room service or something. Doc said carbs would help.”
I don’t reply. I can’t bear to look at him without feeling like I’m splintering. I accept the water, the cap already unscrewed, and take a sip.
“Where’s my bag?”
“Paige—”
“Just…” I inhale sharply, trying to steady my voice. “I just need my things, Maddox.”
He moves slowly, the floorboard creaking under his steps.
“It’s here,” he says, lifting it. “I… Lockie brought it up.”
I nod and take it from him, kneeling to check through it, hiding my face as fresh embarrassment rises in my throat. Everyone saw. Fucking everyone. The guys, Lockie, Reign…
Maddox hovers nearby, everything he wants to say caught in his throat, loud in the stillness of the suite. He’s trying to find the right way to reach me, I know he is, but I don’t want him to. I just want to be alone.
Digging through the bag with trembling hands, I pull out my phone and tap the screen. Blank. Dead. I smother a groan and drop it back in, then get to my feet.
