Page 44 of Endurance
Tanner: Where are you guys?
Tanner: Camden is worried about Indie. Text me back.
Closing in on hour two ofOperation Find Belle and Indie, my texts were a little more like:
Tanner: You ask me to text you and then you blow me off. Real mature.
Tanner: Belle, I am your fucking boyfriend. Fake or not, the least you can do is text me back.
Tanner: TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE. NOW.
Thankfully, Camden had an idea of where to start our search and we lucked out at Club Taint. Though, seeing that loser with his hands on Belle did not please me. She was clearly pissed and he was clearly taking advantage. Say what you want about my history with women, but I wouldnevertake advantage of a situation like Belle’s. Thank fuck I showed up when I did. And then she had the cheek to fight me when I told her we were leaving. I am not pleased.
Ready to rip her a new one, I pause before I leave her kitchen, turning around and grabbing her a couple of chocolates out of her cubby. I may be angry, but I’m not a monster.
When I come upstairs to give her a piece of my mind, I find her hunched over the toilet with her head resting on her arms. Her long, booted legs are tucked up under her butt and her dress is riding so high I can see her arse hanging out of her thong. It would be hot…if it weren’t for the whole vomit/toilet conundrum.
“Why are you still here?” she groans and begins dry-heaving, her hair slipping out of her feeble grasp.
I set the glass of water down and grab a hair tie off the counter.
“Because I’d like to make sure you live through the night.”
She rolls her mascara-smeared eyes. “I’m drunk Tanner, not dying.”
I shake off her argument and bend over to scrape her hair back away from the toilet bowl.
“Stop messing with my hair,” she groans. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Hush,” I chastise. “Haven’t you seen my awesome mane? I’m an expert.” I ball her inky hair up into a messy bun and tighten it just as she begins puking again.
I kneel down behind her, rubbing her back in small circles, feeling the heave of every breath she takes. I hear her weeping a bit between retches, so I bring my other hand up as well.
God, puking is the worst. Self-inflicted puking is double worse.
After a while with no more upchucking, she inhales deeply and flushes the toilet again. I move with her as she drops off to her side, sidling up next to me against the wall. I stretch my arm over her shoulders and she tucks into me with a tremble.
“My breath stinks.”
“No it doesn’t,” I murmur and pull a chocolate out of my pocket.
“You’re a liar and a thief,” she mumbles, deftly unwrapping the dark bar.
My chest rumbles with silent laughter. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I grabbed them for you.”
“You have no power over my knickers, Tan.”
She looks up at me, nibbling on the sweet. Her lips are close, and it’s a strange sensation to want to kiss her right now after she’s been puking for the last twenty minutes. I kiss her forehead instead.
She tucks her head back against my chest. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“It’s no big deal,” I reply, realising I kind of like taking care of her.
“And sorry for fighting with you like that. You were just trying to help.”
My brows lift, surprised by her apology coming so easily. I thought for sure she’d make me fight for it. “I needed to make sure you were safe. You weren’t safe tonight.”
“I know,” she moans. “I just…I miss Indie and I got carried away I think.”
