Page 122 of Intrepid

I’d grown weaker in her absence. An addict, desperate for one more hit. And just like a junkie, I sought out what made me feel good. Didn’t matter if she’d taken up with another. I’d take whatever small piece she’d be willing to give to me—even if it meant Tuesday morning coffee at Mama D’s, where she apparently still worked.

From what I’d gathered, though, she hadn’t taken up with another. On the contrary, I’d come to learn she’d forged her own destructive path.

Steam billowed around me, as I crept quietly into the bathroom, catching her perfect curves distorted by the frosted shower glass. On the counter beside me, a prescription bottle sat opened, and I lifted it to find a recently filled label for Ambien.

The bottle sat half-empty.

A crash prickled my spine, and my attention shot to the shower. Panic swelled in my chest, crushing my lungs, and I threw back the door to find her lying on the shower floor, a skinny rivulet of blood trailing from her head to the swirling drain.

“Sera!” I gripped her chin and gave a light pat to each cheek, while errant sprays of water soaked my shirt. “Sera!”

Her head rolled from side to side, brows pinched. “Ty?”

Hand propped at her nape, I lifted her head from the floor, washing the blood away from her eyelids. “How many did you take?”

“Wha?” Eyes still shut, she turned toward the sound of my voice, her head wobbling like a newborn’s. “Ty?”

“How many pills did you take, Sera?”

“Few.”

“Three? Ten? Twenty? How fucking many?” I needed to keep her talking, keep her conscious, because I could feel myself losing my shit.

“Four.”

Four. I blew out a shaky breath, running my thumb over the knot at her temple. Forty milligrams was about to knock her the hell out, but at least I wouldn’t have to shove my finger down her throat, or run her to the ER to have her stomach pumped.

Still, she’d have to be watched.

I scooped her up into my arms, and flipped the shower off. Her body trembled, shivering against me, and I strode across her bedroom, water trailing after me onto the floor. Setting her naked body onto the bed, I did my best to focus on the task at hand, rather than giving in to the selfish desires tingling my fingertips.

Wrapping her in the blanket offered some reprieve, and I sat down onto the bed beside her, pushing the wet strands of hair behind her ear.

“What have I done to you, angel?”

* * *

Quiet moans filled the room, as I lay beside Sera, watching her sleep. Her body writhed, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes opened to dilated pupils and a vacant stare. To anyone else, she might’ve appeared lucid, but I knew better. Those eyes lacked the depth and shine I’d obsessed over for way too damn long not to recognize right then.

“Ty,” she breathed, pulling me by the back of my neck to her face. Her teeth caught my lip, and she slipped her tongue into my mouth, as if trapped in some zombie state. In the club scene, Ambien had become the new rape-date drug, based on the kind of side effects I was watching play out.

I wanted nothing more than to fuck her until I’d filled her with two months’ worth of release. Ambien sex was crazy and exactly what I needed from her, and I could easily slip out of her room before she could fully wake the next day, leaving not a single recollection of what we’d done.

But what would be the point? I wanted her to feel me inside of her, and to know who’d made her feel that way. Not some cowardly fuck and run.

Stemming my urges, I cupped her face and lay her back down against the pillow. “Go back to sleep, baby,” I whispered. “I’m right here.”

* * *

At the first twitch beside me, I jerked awake, watching Sera stretch. Her leg lay atop the blanket, smooth, toned, edible from where I lay starving for her. A sexy moan passed her lips as she writhed against the mattress, and she lay her arms across her forehead, shielding her eyes. Only for a moment, though, before she shifted them down and lifted the covers. Staring down at her body, she seemed completely oblivious to my presence, and she frowned.

Rolling to peer over the edge of the bed, she looked around, presumably for her clothes. “What the hell?” she muttered.

“Morning, beautiful.”

With a gasp, she jerked back, slipping over the rim of the bed, startling my muscles with the urge to reach out and grab her.

“Oh, shit!” Wincing, she rubbed her temples. “I’m hallucinating. Oh, no, no, no.”