Raw (RAW Family #1)(57)

Protective of the woman I had hurt myself.

I’m a f*ckwit. Seriously.

Damaged doesn’t even begin to cover what I am. I don’t think a word has been invented for the level of f*cked up I am.

The feel of Lexi’s body slumping so suddenly into mine makes me jump. Gripping her arms tightly, I search her lifeless face and shake her hard. “Lexi! Fuck!”

When her eyes pop open and her eyes widen in fright, my heart begins to beat again. She asks, “What?”

I thought you were unconscious and it scared the shit out of me.

Shaking my head, I swallow hard. “Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep. I won’t wake you again. Promise.”

She buries her still-cold face into my neck and sighs.

My jaw tics.

Should’ve never brought her here.

Subconsciously, my arms tighten around her, defying my mind’s statement.





Waking in pitch black with a pounding head, a sore throat, and a boiling belly, I jump upright and bolt off of the bed towards the bathroom. Struggling with the door handle, my body begins to heave when a hand reaches past me to open the door. Once inside, I throw my shaking body over to the toilet bowl and let out the contents of my stomach.

Which is a serious shame.

I loved every morsel I ate at dinner last night.

Groaning into the acrylic toilet seat, something heavy covers my body, but I’m so hot right now, I shrug it off. A sleepy, “Keep it on, Angel,” comes from my left.

Eyes closed, I frown, “Too hot.”

A cool hand on my forehead makes me sigh happily. That is, until I hear, “Shit, Lexi. You’re burning up.”

And that’s the last thing I remember before I doze off, head firmly fixed on the toilet seat.





I know the exact moment Lexi passes out because the arms hugging the toilet bowl fall limp to the sides, her face smooshed into the toilet seat. The sweet sound of her steady breathing is the only thing that calms me at the moment.

Leaving her where she rests, I walk over to the nightstand, fetch my cell, and call Happy. At 3:57am.

He answers half asleep, “You better have a good reason, motherf*cker.”

Ignoring his frustration, I quickly tell him, “I need the number for the doctor.”

Silence. Then accusingly, “What did you do?”

I bark back, “I’m gonna ignore your tone and that f*ckin’ statement and ask you one more time.”

He immediately backtracks, “Don’t be like that, bro. I’m sorry, alright? What did you expect I’d think, calling me this time of night, sounding like you’re in trouble?”

I don’t blame him. Really, I don’t. I know he’s got reasons to think the worst of me. The guy’s been at the receiving end of my fists for little to no reason at all. And he’s one of my best friends.

Running a hand over my face, I tell him, “It’s Lexi. Ling let her have two f*ckin’ lines last night. I left her to shower and came back to find her sitting on the tiles under freezing water. So I don’t know if she’s sick, or just having a reaction to the coke. She’s…not good.”

His voice softens, “Let me handle it, man. Go sit with her. We’ll be there soon.”

I say, “Thanks, bro.” What I don’t say is, “I owe you one.”

But we both know that’s a given.





The doctor looks over Lexi’s unconscious and sweating body, now covered in one of my tees, umming and ahhing for close to ten minutes. Feeling her glands, peering into her eyes with a light, taking her temperature four times over the course of minutes. It’s safe to say, I’m panicked.

If it were anyone else but her…

Pushing the thought out of my head, I watch him closely. I don’t like his hands on her. All over her. This is how ridiculous I am. I know he’s a doctor. I know he’s here to help. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to take his head off at the sight of his hands on her body.

On my body. She is mine. She belongs to me.

For a second, I worry myself with thoughts that I’ve taken things with Lexi too far. For a second, I tell myself to break all ties with her. For a second, I wonder if I’m in too deep here.

For a second.

The doctor, a tall and fit middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, comes to stand by my side. Squirting hand sanitizer into his palm, he rubs his hands together. “So you say she’s never done drugs before, then decided to do weed and cocaine all in one night?” His brow furrows. He doesn’t believe a word I say.

Steeling my jaw, I explain, “I asked her to have a smoke with me and she did,” looking him in the eye, I state, “willingly.” He nods in a duly noted way and I add, “But I think the weed impaired her judgement enough to do the blow. I wasn’t around, and when I came back, she was wasted. She was worried about the weed in her system, so I don’t know why she would’ve…” I shrug. The rest is self-explanatory.

The doctor watches me closely, eyes narrowing. The motherf*cker is making me sweat and he knows it. Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, “It looks viral to me. The drug use may have amplified her body’s reaction to the virus, but as far as I can tell, she’s just severely dehydrated. Hence the drip.”

I look at the IV hooked up to the top of Lexi’s hand. Actually, I stare.