Page 9 of Love Loathe Devotion (Tightrope #3)

The world tilts and shifts, like I’m floating on a boat in choppy waters. My limbs are heavy, my thoughts sluggish like my brain is swimming through syrup. I hear voices, but they’re muffled, distant, like I’m underwater. My body aches, though I can’t quite place why.

A warm hand strokes my forehead, pushing damp hair back from my face. The touch is gentle, grounding. I try to focus, to pull myself out of the fog.

“Laney? Baby, can you hear me?”

The voice is deep, rough around the edges, familiar.

I cling to it, let it pull me closer to consciousness.

I blink sluggishly, my eyelids feeling like they’re weighted down.

The world is blurred at first, the lights too bright, the colors too sharp.

I groan and turn my head, trying to escape the intensity of it.

“Easy, sweetheart,” the voice soothes. Fingers trace down my arm, careful but firm, like they’re reassuring themselves I’m still here. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Eddie.

The recognition hits me like a lightning bolt, but everything else is a haze.

I don’t know why I feel this way, why my body won’t cooperate, why my head is pounding like a drumbeat against my skull.

I blink again, forcing my vision to focus, and there he is.

Eddie, crouched beside the couch, his stormy eyes locked on mine, worry etched into every line of his face.

“Eddie?” My voice comes out as a whisper, dry and shaky.

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.” He grips my hand, his thumb stroking across my knuckles. “You scared the shit out of me.”

I frown, confusion wrapping around me like a heavy fog. My mouth feels like cotton, my throat dry and scratchy. “W-what happened?”

Eddie’s jaw tightens, and something dark flashes in his eyes. He hesitates, like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You don’t remember?” he asks carefully.

I shake my head, but even that small movement makes me dizzy. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body to settle, but the sense of unease doesn’t fade. My heart starts to pound, my chest tightening. “I feel weird,” I murmur, voice unsteady. “Everything’s… slow.”

Eddie curses under his breath and shifts closer. “It’s okay, Laney. You’re gonna be okay. Some asshole gave you something. We don’t know what yet, but a doctor is on the way.”

Something cold trickles down my spine. Gave me something? I try to piece it together, but my memory is a black hole. Panic bubbles up in my throat, making it harder to breathe. My fingers clutch at Eddie’s shirt, desperate for something solid.

“I don’t… I don’t remember anything,” I admit, my voice shaking.

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his touch remains gentle. “That’s okay. You don’t need to remember, baby. Just focus on me.”

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, frustration and fear colliding in my chest. “I don’t like this,” I whisper. “I feel… wrong.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie says, his voice thick with barely contained emotion. “I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

A knock at the door barely registers through my haze. Eddie quickly glances away from me before barking, “Get in here. Now.”

A man in his fifties enters carrying a medical bag. His presence should be reassuring, but all I feel is exposed, vulnerable. I don’t want some stranger near me. My grip on Eddie tightens instinctively, and he immediately understands, shifting so he’s half-cradling me against his chest.

“She doesn’t want anyone else touching her,” Eddie tells the doctor, his voice clipped. “You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

The doctor nods, his gaze assessing but not unkind. “Alright. Let’s start simple. Has she been responsive?”

“She just woke up a couple of minutes ago. She’s disoriented.”

The doctor kneels beside us, speaking directly to me. “Laney, do you feel numbness anywhere? Trouble breathing?”

I shake my head, though my limbs still feel heavy. “Just… slow. Fuzzy.”

The doctor nods. “You were likely given something—a sedative or a downer. We won’t know for sure unless we run tests. Are you experiencing any pain?”

My body aches, but it’s dull compared to the nausea rolling through me. “Just a little. But I feel sick.”

“Alright. We’ll keep you hydrated and monitor you until whatever’s in your system clears out.”

Eddie’s grip on me doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away again. “How long until she’s okay?”

The doctor exhales. “It depends on what she was given, but the worst of it should wear off in a few hours.”

Eddie nods stiffly, his jaw tight. “Thanks.”

The doctor does a few more checks, asking me to follow his finger with my eyes, checking my pulse. Then he glances at Eddie. “We should run blood tests to confirm what she was given. It’ll help in case we need to counteract anything.”

Eddie turns his gaze to me, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want to do that, baby?”

I hesitate, feeling small, uncertain. “Do you think I should?”

His fingers stroke over my knuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart, I do. I want to know what’s in your system, make sure there’s nothing dangerous. Better to be safe.”

I nod slowly, my pulse quickening at the thought of needles. “I… I don’t like needles,” I admit in a small voice.

Eddie shifts closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I know, baby. But I promise, I won’t leave your side. You don’t have to do this alone.”

My chest tightens, but his steady presence anchors me. “Okay,” I whisper. “But don’t let go.”

“Never.”

The doctor prepares a syringe while Eddie adjusts his hold on me, keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders as he strokes my hair. “Just focus on me, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my forehead. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

I bury my face in his chest as the doctor finds a vein in my arm. My fingers tighten in Eddie’s shirt, and I feel his hand clasp over mine, grounding me. “You’re doing great, Laney,” he whispers. “Almost done.”

A sharp prick, a slight pressure, then it’s over.

The doctor withdraws the needle and places a small bandage over my arm. “That’s it. Results should be back soon.”

I exhale shakily, relief washing over me. Eddie presses a kiss to my hair. “Proud of you, baby.”

“She should rest,” the doctor says. “Water, electrolytes, no sudden movements. If anything gets worse—if she starts having trouble breathing, gets dizzy, or anything else feels off—you call me immediately.”

Eddie barely acknowledges him, just nods once. The doctor gives me a reassuring look before packing up and heading for the door. When it clicks shut, I sag against Eddie, exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

He strokes my hair, his touch light but steady. “I got you,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “You’re safe now, Laney.”

A tear slips down my cheek, unbidden. “I don’t remember, Eddie.”

He exhales, his lips brushing my hair. “That’s probably for the best.”

The weight of that statement sits heavy between us. I don’t know what happened, but from the way Eddie is holding me, from the barely controlled fury still simmering in his voice, I know it was bad. And I know he’s not telling me everything.

“W…was…I…. Did he rape me?” I take an inventory but nothing feels tender down there, but still, not knowing is somehow worse.

I feel Eddie shake his head. “No, baby, he didn’t get the chance. I got to you in time.”

A shudder of relief ripples through me that whoever attacked me didn’t rape me, but still, the feeling of violation makes me squirm with revulsion.

“I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you, baby.”

Eddie sounds wrecked and angry, but his words to me are gentle and filled with guilt.

I sit up slowly, fighting the wooziness and nausea, so I can see his face, and reluctantly he releases me, but stays close, his intense gaze fixed on me.

“This isn’t your fault, Eddie.”

He nods, his features tight with anger and something that looks like guilt. “It was one of my roadies, baby.”

He seems intent on calling me that, and I find I like the term coming from him, it seems tender and real, sweet and comforting, as if he will stand between me and the monsters.

It settles me, just like his presence did in the tattoo parlor when Randy got aggressive with me.

His voice is dripping with guilt, and I hate that he’s blaming himself, but I don’t have the energy for more than a reassuring smile as a wave of dizziness washes over me.

My hand flies to my head and then I’m in his arms again as he pulls me close, settling my head against his chest.

A sudden fear grips me, and I whisper, “Christie. Where’s Christie?”

Eddie’s muscles tense under me. He turns his head and shouts toward the door, his voice a sharp demand. “Find Christie. Now.”

The sound of hurried footsteps echoes outside as one of his security guys rushes to do his bidding. Eddie’s grip on me doesn’t ease. “We’ll find her, okay?”

I nod against his chest, my exhaustion pulling me under again. But even as my body gives in to the haze, I hold onto one truth—the only solid thing in my spinning world.

Eddie is here.

And I’m safe.