Page 8 of Chill

She looked around, and her nose wrinkled in disgust and annoyance.

I hadn’t given her Psych’s last message. Helplessly and guilt-ridden, I stared as Nanci put Party in his place and claimed president.

Moon said I was asleep, but I watched from the shadows. Party went back at her, and Razor appeared, cutting him down. Razor vomited, and I truly looked at him this time. Shit. His appearance was shocking. I knew what Razor was fighting and had left him to handle it alone. Just further evidence of what a piece of crap I was.

I ran away, stumbling to my bunk, unable to face Nanci. How could I look her in the eyes? Psych died for me, and I turned into this. I was unaware when King and Moon came and dragged me to the cells. I was very aware when I began to go through withdrawal.

On waking, my body ached, followed by a pounding headache. I sat up and blearily looked around the cell. Why the hell was I here?

King appeared, stared at me, and tossed me a bottle of water.

“What the fuck is going on, prospect?” I demanded, my throat scratchy. My hands began shaking as I craved a drink.

“Prez says you’re staying here until sober.” King smirked.

“Yeah, not happening,” I bitched and tried to stand up. A groan escaped as I fell back down. I was as weak as a newborn kitten. I looked down at my hand, which shook violently.

“Why do I have an IV?”

“Because I don’t want you dehydrating,” Doc Paul said, appearing. “Thanks, King.”

“Welcome, Doc,” King replied and moved away, but stayed close by.

“Let me the hell out, Doc.”

“No can do,” he responded, almost sounding cheerful. “Your president gave orders, and unless you’re in a life-threatening situation, you’re staying put.”

“What are you on about? Inglorious is there,” I croaked, waving a hand.

“Yeah, he’s not Prez anymore,” Doc Paul replied.

“The fuck!”

“Sure have, and this one’s sober,” King said.

I grabbed the bars and glowered. “Got something to say, asshole?”

“You’re drunk and unfit to make any decisions. Same as Inglorious. The club has a new Prez and VP. I’m gonna stick with them.”

The news turned my stomach, and I twisted in time for the toilet and threw up. I kept going until there was nothing left, but my body still dry-heaved.

“Psych is dead. Who the fuck dares take his position?” I seethed.

“Someone who is entitled,” King said and swapped a glance with Doc Paul.

“Who?” I screamed at him.

“None of your business until you’ve sobered up,” King retorted.

“You’re a goddamn prospect!”

“And following my president’s orders. Not yours.” King didn’t look bothered whatsoever. Asshole. He’d pay for disrespecting a brother.

Four days later

I stumbled into the clubhouse and stared around me. It was a totally different place from what I’d seen a few days ago. It was clean, tidy, and even smelt good. Avoiding Nanci in the middle of the room, I glowered at King and Moon. Neither paid me the slightest bit of attention.

Nanci tapped her foot, and I finally had to face her. Her gaze narrowed on me. She’d taken president, and I had to admire the way she’d found a loophole. The memory was hazy, but I was almost sure I’d watched her do it.