Addicted for Now (Addicted #2)(98)

The room is empty except for one blonde girl who has her feet on the couch cushions. She bounces a little and slaps the graffiti image of a window on the wall.

I’m just really, really glad no one is in this room. And that all of her clothes are on.

Ryke nears my sister. “Daisy,” he says slowly.

She glances over her shoulder and smiles weakly. “Hi, Ryke.” She points to the painted window. “Did you know this window doesn’t work?” She tries to grab at the picture. “It won’t open.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

She plops on the couch and touches her head like she’s spinning. “Well…” She swallows hard. “I learned that the blue stuff was absinthe…so…I think I might be high.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah…” She blinks a couple times, trying to force open her heavy eyes. “And that door…that door was not the exit.” A spike of fear breaches her voice. She knows she’s not completely coherent and she was all alone.

My fearless, daring sister is afraid.

Because this was not her choosing.

I’m about to go to her, but I stop. Ryke has already reached the couch, and when her gaze trains on him fully, her face begins to break in slow, liberating relief.

“Hey,” he says, gauging her state.

“Hey.” Her eyes fill with tears.

“Dais, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He brings her to her feet, and her legs quake.

She nods repeatedly, trying to believe it herself.

Lo lets out a breath. “It’s weird,” he says softly. “I thought Rose was going to be the one like this.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Terrified,” he clarifies, “of not being in control.”

Daisy is naturally wild, but I don’t think she was expecting to be this drunk. I don’t think she wanted it, and that was a different kind of unknown than jumping off a cliff or house or plane.

Ryke cups her face. “Hey, you’re safe, Dais.”

She nods again, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

And then Ryke shifts uneasily. “You didn’t run into anyone before you got here, did you?” Oh my God, he doesn’t think…no one touched her, did they? I am going to throw up with worry.

She shakes her head, a couple tears falling. “I don’t know.” She rubs her face before anymore tears slide down.

Ryke is more concerned than I’ve seen him in a while, and that includes when Lo was puking on the side of the road.

Daisy stares at her hand as though it leads to a magical portal. “I think…I think I’m high,” she repeats what has already been said.

“Fuck,” Ryke curses under his breath. He gently leads her to where we stand. She looks up, and her face brightens a little when she sees me. “Lily. Lo.”

I hug her instantly, and she clutches onto me, her hand disappearing in my hair. “Whoa!” She shrieks and jerks backs into Ryke’s chest.

“What?” My eyes widen.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Daisy asks, panicked. “Ryke, something’s wrong with her face.”

“You’re high,” he reminds her.

“Oh…yeah.”

“The sooner we get out of here the better,” Lo says.

Daisy breathes heavily. “I can’t feel my feet.”

“Great,” Lo says, a nervous hand combing through his hair.

“Anything else you can’t feel?” Ryke asks.

She runs her tongue slowly over her upper lip before saying, “My face.”

Ryke rests a hand on Daisy’s spine. “Daisy, look at me.”

She can’t find the source of his voice. “Ryke?” He’s standing right in front of her.

He pinches her chin and turns her face so she meets his eyes. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

“Okay.”

He lifts her in his arms—one on her back, the other underneath her knees.

And she clutches his shirt. “Don’t leave me,” she whispers. “I can’t find the exit…”

“I have you,” he assures her.

We navigate our way out of the club, and I constantly glance back at Daisy to make sure she’s okay and not ill. She buries her face in Ryke’s chest, and when we pass the threshold of the club, safe on the sidewalk and out of the hazy atmosphere, we can talk more freely.

“Daisy,” Lo says. We head to the parking deck, and Lo has his arm tight around my shoulders.

Her head rises to look at Lo. Her eyes are bloodshot, and Ryke’s shirt is wet with her tears. She’s upset, and I wonder how much she’s going to remember in the morning.

Probably nothing at all.

Maybe that’s good.

Lo hesitates to ask her something.

“What?” she murmurs.

He gives in. “What did you think you were drinking if you didn’t know it was absinthe?”

“Cura?ao.”

Ryke readjusts his hold on her, and she rests her cheek on his arm. “How the hell do you know what that is?” he asks.

“A Brazilian model.” Her eyelids flutter a bit, hopefully just out of sleep.

Ryke lets out a low breath. “He sounds like a winner.”