Page 19

Tina

T he simple task of peeling my eyelids open seemed a lot easier yesterday. The room is pitch-black. Like the room, I feel oddly void—not my body but my mind. I remember the restaurant, the bar, and Cliff, but after is a blank slate.

My legs are bare underneath the starchy bedsheets. I run my hand down my body, noting an oversized cotton T-shirt and nothing else. No bra. No panties. It’s the “no panties” part that gives me pause. I don’t normally sleep this way, which means one thing… someone else got me ready for bed.

There’s a substantial dip in the mattress next to me, telling me I’m not alone. Did Cliff and I hook up? No. I refuse to believe I’d loosen up that much. But maybe… My pulse picks up speed and I reach across the mattress but yank my hand away as if burned when I connect with warm skin taut over muscles. Oh, God.

Trying not to jostle the bed, I roll off, feeling my way to where I hope the bathroom is. In ten paces I hit the jackpot and shut the door behind me, then take a few deep breaths before turning on the light. The bathroom looks the same as the one from the hotel room I shared with Dustin. The mirror reflects an image of me I don’t normally see. My hair is a tangled nest. My eyes are bloodshot with purple shadows beneath. Holy crap, I look horrible.

I shuffle to the toilet and gather my thoughts while relieving my bladder. With no clearer vision of the night’s events, I proceed to wash my hands, wishing I had my phone so I could text Rosa.

That’s when I see the cotton ball taped to my inner arm. What in God’s name happened to me?

Knowing the answers probably lie in the bed in the other room, I exit the bathroom, leaving the light on. I steel my spine and round the corner. The relief of seeing a shirtless Dustin in bed is staggering. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t want the mystery man to be Cliff until this moment.

Dustin studies me from his position on the bed. The sheet is around his waist and his hands are behind his head. He does not look like crap, I note.

Voice rough from sleep, he asks, “How do you feel?”

I tug on the T-shirt’s hem and make my way back to bed, slip under the covers and give myself time before answering. How do I feel? Lost for sure, but other than a headache I feel pretty good. “I’m okay,” I say, attempting and failing to remove the bandage on my arm. “What happened to me?”

Dustin pulls my hand away and peels the sticky tape off with a quick rip, making me squeak more from surprise than pain. He pitches the cotton ball behind me. “You don’t remember anything?”

I shake my head. “Nothing after the trip to the bar.”

His expression is blank, but I get the sense he was hoping for a different answer. Why? He twists towards his nightstand. I watch his back muscles flex and even in my confusion I want nothing more than to caress his skin.

“Here,” he says, holding a water bottle out to me. I pull myself up to rest against the headboard. I expect him to mirror my pose, but while I sip the water he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. His broad back expands on an inhale, and he runs a hand down his face. This can’t be a good sign.

I clear my throat and come right out and ask, “Did we have sex?”

He laughs without humor. “It would be my luck, wouldn’t it, mouse, if we did and you didn’t remember?”

Which is not an answer. But before I can point this out, his phone rings and he snatches it up, answering in a clipped tone I’m getting used to hearing. I want to scream and throw the phone to the floor and demand he explain. Rather, I wait and listen, hoping to pick up any crumbs he drops.

His back tenses at whatever the caller says. I want to crawl to him, mold my body to his back, wrap my arms around him, and tuck my face where his neck meets his shoulder. It reminds me of the airport when the same feeling struck me. Back then it would’ve been laughable. Would he accept my offer now?

“Okay,” he finally says into the receiver, jostling me from my musing. “Give me five.”

He sets his phone on the nightstand next to mine, then hesitates before picking the latter up and dropping it on the mattress next to me. “Cliff called you last night while you were out of it.” He stands from the bed, revealing he’s wearing boxers. “I told him you’d call him back.”

The last person I want to talk about is Cliff. I watch in shock as Dustin gets dressed. “You’re leaving?”

Finally, he faces me, but his gaze is focused on the last few buttons of his shirt as he speaks. “Rosa’s coming to stay with you until morning.” I open my mouth to argue when there’s a knock at the door. Dustin opens it and Rosa rushes to my side. Lucius stays by the door, nodding at me once.

“Don’t answer the door for anyone but me or Lucius,” Dustin says to Rosa.

Look at me. Stay with me, I want to say, but I don’t, and he leaves without another word.

Once the door shuts, I face Rosa. “What’s going on?”

Pulling off her heeled boots, she gets comfortable on the bed and begins filling in some of the dead space in my head. The events of my life sound like someone else’s. I grab my phone and immediately start looking up the drug. Rohypnol. Mexican Valium, circles, roofies, la rocha , Roche, R2, rope, forget-me pill… Jesus. It’s surreal. I flop back on the bed. “I can’t believe I was drugged.”

She nods. “The doctor messaged Lucius, confirming it.”

The fact someone took my blood, and I don’t remember it, creeps me out more than being drugged. “This is not my life.”

“It’s more like mine,” she admits in a quieter voice.

I begin counting the stains on the ceiling. I make it to twelve when I realize what she said. “What are you talking about?”

Her past tumbles out of her mouth in a rush. It’s a story about gangs, attacks, and near kidnappings. I’m speechless. Before last night, these types of things only existed in books and movies. I had no idea they were happening right under my nose. It sheds some light on Lucius’s protective side when it comes to Rosa, though.

“Sometimes I feel like a ticking bomb,” she whispers. “It’s probably better if we aren’t friends.”

I reach out and touch her arm. “Don’t say that. Besides, there’s no proof what happened to me had anything to do with you.” She gives me a look that says I must still be high if I believe it, so I add with more feeling, “I’m glad we’re friends, Rosa.”

“Even knowing you could be in danger because of it?”

I mean, I’d rather not get drugged again, or hurt, but giving up my new friend isn’t an option. I slip my hand into hers and squeeze. “Without question.”

She settles beside me more comfortably and I ask the question I’ve been putting off. “Where did Lucius and Dustin go?”

She sighs. “All Lucius told me was that we were coming here, and I was to stay with you until they came and got us.”

Back in the dark I go.

When I wake up again, Rosa’s side of the bed is empty. I throw the covers back and swing my legs around to sit. I walk to the window and pull back the drapes. Down below, people walk the Strip, going about their lives. Is the person who drugged me among them? I shiver at the thought and turn away.

The bathroom door opens and Rosa steps out. Her smile is bright against her warm complexion. “You look better. How are you feeling?”

“Like something crawled in my mouth and died.” She laughs, pulling on her boots. I gather my toiletries, trying not to worry. “Any news from the guys?”

“Nothing. You?”

Shaking my head, I head for the shower and wash the yuck from last night away. Taking a cue from Rosa, I pull on jeans and a simple green top. I exit the bathroom and find Rosa staring out the window, much like I was doing earlier.

“Last night in the alley you asked me where the men were.”

My brow pinches. “Men? You mean Dustin and Lucius?”

She shakes her head. “I do not think that is who you meant.” She looks at me then. “You seemed… frightened.”

I close my eyes, trying to picture last night. Nothing. Seeing me struggle and coming up empty, she pulls me in for a hug before studying me at arm’s length. “Maybe that’s for the best.” She steps away just as there’s a loud knock on the door. Wide-eyed, we stare at each other.

“Open up, Rosaline,” a man orders from the other side of the door.

Rosa squeals and rushes to swing open the door, revealing a scary-looking man. Dustin’s warning comes to mind, and I wish she’d left the door shut like we promised.

The man deftly catches Rosa when she leaps into his arms. His deep-set brown eyes meet mine over her shoulder. This , I think, is who I’d picture leading a gang of bad guys. I make a conscious effort not to take a step back.

His skin is a couple of shades darker than Rosa’s. His head is capped with dark hair like he’s growing it out, and his body looks coiled, ready to strike. A body where you’d be hard-pressed to find a spot that didn’t have a scar or a bruise. His nose looks like it’s been broken a few times, and his lips are pressed in a firm line. I blame the lingering effects of the drug because none of those things takes away from how attractive he is. If anything, they make him more appealing.

He gently sets Rosa down on her feet and holds out a hand to me. “You must be Tina.” Surprised he knows my name, I automatically take his offered hand. It’s just as hard as everything else about him. His stare is penetrating, like he’s looking for something. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, because the next moment his smile spreads. I blink a few times, trying to focus on his words. “I’m Rosa’s brother, Raul.”

So, this is Raul . Damn. The good-looking gene runs deep in this family.

“What are you doing here?” Rosa draws his attention away from me with her question.

He drops my hand and faces his sister. “Lu called.”

She doesn’t seem surprised. “Is Ben with you?”

A man wearing sunny yellow pants and a cream-colored top flounces into the room. “Here I am!”

If Raul is dark and dangerous, Ben is light and cuddly. I recognize Christian’s secretary right away. His bright hair and personality light up a room, making him hard to forget. I just don’t understand why he’s here now with Rosa’s brother. Understanding dawns when Raul wraps one of his arms around Ben’s shoulder and plants a kiss on his temple.

“You think I could leave my guy behind?” Raul gives Ben another squeeze, making the frailer man wince. “I’d miss him too much.”

Ben pats one of Raul’s firm pecs. “Easy, Rocky.”

An honest-to-God growl leaves Raul’s throat at the term and my cheeks warm.

“Where’s Lucius?” Rosa asks, then sighs when she sees something in her brother’s eyes I don’t. “He sent you to babysit?”

Raul neither confirms nor denies it, but his voice when he speaks has a hint of pity. “You need to pack your things.” Like someone who is used to moving at a moment’s notice, Rosa begins gathering her belongings.

I’m about to ask what I’m supposed to do when Ben tosses my suitcase on the bed beside Rosa’s and pops the latch. “Pack up, sunshine. You’re coming with.”