“Oh my fucking god! I fucking knew it! I. Knew. It!”
I lurch to wakefulness, the ear-piercing screeches of an enraged female voice crash through my throbbing head. Oh god. What’s happening? With cold sweat coating my skin, I take a stuttering breath, feeling so sick and confused, my stomach’s caught up in twisted, uncomfortable knots. I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe she’ll go away.
“I’m never forgiving you for this. I knew that girl was a skanky slut the second I laid eyes on her.” Whoever the female is has stopped to suck in a gasping breath. Smack. Without opening my eyes, I realize there’s someone else in the bed with me, and they were on the receiving end of that slap. “No! No, don’t you try to explain this away. She’s fucking naked in your bed!” My head pounds and pounds, horrible waves of nausea making me incapable of responding for fear I’ll open my mouth and vomit everywhere.
“Maria. Stop. I’m hungover,” moans a baritone voice. Then a moment later, there’s a startled, “What the fuck? Lennon? Why are you in my bed?”
Warren? My brow creases painfully as a breath shudders from me.
Everything happens at once, though I can’t pry my eyes open for anything.
“What’s going— Whoa,” a familiar voice snickers. I cringe against the loudness of his words, my head throbbing. One of the douchebags.
“Holy shit!” Quincy or Arik. Or both.
“Who’s got their phone? Get a pic, quick!” There’s no mistaking Tucker’s slimy voice, which rings out loud and clear as a bell—a very loud, very annoying bell.
I put my hands up to cover my ears against the utter chaos in the room. My brain is scrambled, and it takes me more than a second to realize the naked person the increasingly pissed-off Maria had referred to is … me. Panic rises as I take a second to assess myself. Inhaling and exhaling slowly and steadily, I lie there, physically unable to respond to anything. I try to swallow, sending saliva into my mostly empty stomach, but it immediately rebels. I cover my mouth and roll in the opposite direction from the voices.
“The fuck.” The unmistakable voice of my stepbrother cuts through the cacophony of sound filling the room. “Go fucking get Bear and Mason from downstairs. Now.” And a second later, an even sharper command. “Fucking move!” There’s a mad scramble as whoever Duke shouted at exits the room, then a moment later, I feel his presence at my side. “Lennon. Stella, baby.” The strain in his voice is obvious as he hastily pulls a soft sheet over my body. He cups the side of my face in his palm, his thumb stroking over my cheek. I don’t know how to look him in the eye, don’t even know what happened to explain this mess. Duke hadn’t specifically posed a question, yet the uncertainty hangs in the air like a heavy cloud of confusion.
“Lennon?” Mason’s here. There’s a pause, and from the shock in his voice, I know if I dared look at him, his expression would be one of dumbfounded relief. “The fuck’s going on here?” His tone turns biting as he addresses the plethora of people who have invaded Warren’s room for a peek at the current debacle. “Warren, get some fucking underwear on so we don’t have to look at your junk, and sit the fuck over there until we’re ready to deal with you.” Warren must be quick to follow directions because the mattress shifts, and my body is jostled. A low moan tears from my throat.
“You don’t have to let him speak to you like that.” I can tell from the way Duke tenses that Maria and her irritating voice are one wrong move from being tossed out of here. “The fuck, Warren. Grow a pair,” she hisses.
My eyes peek open to see Bear forcefully shoving people from the room, “Fucking enough, Maria. Keep your mouth shut or get the fuck out. And the rest of you, what the fucking hell do you think you’re doing? Out. Now.”
“Whatever, I’m out of here. You’re not worth this bullshit, Warren. Have fun with your little slut.” No one says a damn word in response to her ill-timed antics, but I’ve never wished so hard that she would do what she was threatening and just go.
As she leaves in a huff, the bed dips beside me, and I open my eyes. Duke has leaned down, his face near mine, and I take in the piercing stare of his blue eyes. “Stella Bella,” he whispers, my nickname jerking painfully from between his lips. “What the hell happened?” His voice is raspy, and he’s unable to mask the confusion. “Where have you been?”
To my abject horror, my lip trembles as I stare back at him and attempt to sit up. And then it hits me, my eyes going wide. “I’m gonna be sick.” I slap my hand over my mouth as my stomach revolts.
I don’t know how he manages it, but in the blink of an eye, Duke scoops me up, sheet and all, and hauls ass into Warren’s bathroom. He helps me to the toilet just in time for me to fall to my knees in front of the porcelain god. I cough and gag, vomiting up who knows what. If I had the mental capacity, maybe I’d ponder more thoroughly what’s coming out of me, but I simply don’t. I pray fervently for the violent evacuation of my stomach’s contents to come to an end.
The bathroom door snaps shut. The vibe in the room shifts, and without turning my head, I know both Mason and Bear are present. No matter. At the moment, I can only concentrate on remaining upright. I feel so ill and out of it. Recognition flares to life. No, no, no. I shove away the niggling voice in my head that tells me something is very, very wrong.
But then Duke’s hovering over me, holding my hair as I continue to retch up anything and everything in my stomach, and I’m able to hide from whatever spark of memory had surged forth. His free hand rests on my back. His touch is soothing, and to my surprise, he calmly speaks to me in low tones. “You’re okay. We’ve got you. Everything is fine.”
I almost laugh through the tears streaming down my face because everything is certainly not fine. My head spins, my stomach pitches vulgarly, and I have no idea how I wound up naked in Warren’s bed. I can’t even fathom the events that landed me in this predicament, and every time I try to bring it forth, I can’t make out what is nightmare and what is reality.
A moment later, Mason squats down beside me with a cool cloth in hand and sweeps it over my forehead. I wonder if I should ask him what it’s like for him when he’s trapped in that space between sleeping and wakefulness. My eyes crash shut. I don’t want to hurt him, and my chest heaves harshly with the effort of keeping those questions inside me. I can hardly control the rush of emotion as he gently blots away the tracks of my tears. “What happened to me?” My eyes blink furiously as I stare into the toilet bowl, unable to look him in the eye.
“Kintsukuroi, I think we were kinda hoping you had the answer to that question.” He brushes the back of his finger over my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the look he exchanges with Duke and Bear. A stuttered breath escapes me as I attempt to stem the flow of liquid emotion that won’t freaking stop. I use my hand to swipe it away, frustrated with myself.
“Lennon, you weren’t here when we looked. We scoured the house and the surrounding grounds.” Bear stands off to the side, his hands raking through his hair over and over. His distress—how the last few hours have affected him, how unnerved he’s been—it’s all palpable. I feel the intensity of his eyes on me, though I refuse to meet his gaze. I’m so confused, hate that I don’t have even an inkling of a clue to share. Everything between the auction and waking up in Warren’s bed is all but gone. And the thought crosses through my mind on a horrific, taunting whisper, Maybe I want it that way. I don’t want to remember.
From behind me, Duke murmurs in a low voice, “We couldn’t find you for hours, Stella. We looked in here. We looked everywhere.” The ache spilling from him, the absolute intensity in his eyes, rocks me to my core.
“I found your dress on the floor in your room like you had vanished into thin fucking air,” Mason chokes out, still squatting beside me. “Like you were taken.” The torment in his voice guts me. My chest caves in as I try to suck in a breath. Tremors roll through my body in one uncontrollable wave after another.
“Goddammit, Lennon!” Bear shouts, spinning around and hammering his fists onto the counter. Stunned, my heart plummets and my eyes widen as his broad back heaves up and down. Quietly, he grinds out in a bitter tone he’s never ever used with me before, “Where the fuck were you?”
“I-I don’t know.” I shake my head vigorously, panic but also anger rising within me. “The last few hours have been a horrific blend of flashes and noise and images I can’t begin to comprehend, and the fact that I feel sticky—dirty—doesn’t help. Filthy,” I manage to gasp out. “So, don’t fucking yell at me, Gideon. I don’t know how any of this happened.” I adjust the sheet, clutching it together between my breasts.
Without warning, Bear pushes away and walks out of the room, taking the sense of safety that I always feel when he’s near with him. I belatedly realize the disheveled state of the three of them. They’re still wearing their dress clothes from last night, like it hadn’t occurred to them to change, so their shirts are rumpled, ties discarded. They’re a mess. Because I was gone. I try my damnedest to hold onto the idea that they care enough about me to be wrecked by my disappearance, because if I let go of that, all I’m left with is the guilt creeping into my thoughts like a pervasive weed. My next words come out on a choked sob. “Help— Help me up?” There is too much emotion swirling in this room, the air is so thick with it that I can hardly breathe.
Mason and Duke lift me to my feet, where I sway in place. Dizzy. My head feels like it’s stuffed with thick cotton, and my sense of equilibrium is thrown off. I’ve only felt like this once before in my life. This is beyond drunk. This is drugged, for certain. I shudder, every hair on my body standing on end as another prickle of memory slithers through my mind right before a fresh wave of nervousness, confusion, and nausea crashes through me.
With only murky memories at the corners of my mind, I have no desire to open my mouth and hazard a guess at what’s happened to me. Swallowing hard, I let my gaze skate down my sheet-covered body, the awareness that something isn’t right becomes more and more firm in my mind. On either side of me, Duke and Mason each have a steadying hand wrapped around my bicep. My body quakes, but they don’t let go. Instead, they provide the support I so desperately need. It makes me wonder how bad off I seem to them. I’m positive they’re exchanging looks over my head.
Duke sighs deeply, his breath gusting past my face. Both he and Mason are incredibly close, almost as if now that they’ve found me, there’s no way they’re not going to touch or hold on to me in some way.
With one hand on me, Duke uses the other to undo the buttons of his dress shirt. Shrugging out of it, he murmurs hoarsely, “Put this on, baby.” I blink at him, staring into the blue of his eyes, then exhale raggedly. I drop the sheet, and they help me into the wrinkled shirt that hits me mid-thigh and button it up. My chest tightens. They’re being so kind; I hardly know what to say.
Mason’s lips brush over my temple. “You want to wash out your mouth, Kin?”
When I nod, he quickly flushes the toilet, then they both guide me on unsteady feet to the unfamiliar sink. Warren’s room. Right. What the fuck? “Where’s Warren?”
I press my fingers to my head, my mind reaching back to its recesses in an attempt to pluck something more from it, but it’s no surprise to me when there isn’t much more than flashes of dizziness, flickering lights, and the rumble of men’s voices. I might have woken up in Warren’s bed, but I refuse to believe one of those voices was his.
My legs shake as I bend over the sink to turn on the faucet. Cupping some water in my hand, I bring it to my mouth, swishing and spitting several times before I feel courageous enough to swallow. I pause, looking into the mirror. Staring not at myself so much as at the reflection of the two men on either side of me, my heart twinges. But Bear’s missing. He’s fiercely upset with— I take a quick breath. Not with me. With the situation, I think. His shortness with me—with all of us—is worrying. Carefully drawing in one breath after another, I stare at the deep, dark circles under Mason’s and Duke’s eyes. The rigid tension in their bodies confirms how time has passed for them since I last saw them.
And for the hundredth time since I’ve opened my eyes, I hate that my mind has chosen to make my memory of tonight’s events a deep, dark chasm of nothingness.
