Zenith in Love (Zenith Series #5) - Leanne Davis Page 0,70
was on it. He frowned as he glanced down. Clean?
He entered his bedroom and blinked. His head was spinning and he must have been seeing things. Yeah, of course.
Hallucinating. He needed another drink to steady his nerves, and yank his brain from this loop. Maybe he could jolt it back into working. He almost fell before crashing into his dresser, where he dropped to his knees and opened the bottom drawer. Relief washed through him. Soon… wait… what in the hell?
The drawer was completely empty. Was he still hallucinating? He stared at it in disbelief before finally putting his hand inside to feel around. Why couldn’t he find it? Where did it go?
He glanced around. Where did all of his stuff go? What the hell? He pressed against the pain in the middle of his forehead before a voice startled the living shit out of him.
“It’s all gone.”
He didn’t look up. Frozen, he kept his gaze pinned on his knees.
Kayla.
Her voice was permanently ingrained in his brain. Her tone was cool, soft and sad. Judgmental perhaps.
“Why?”
Her feet were in the doorway. How long was she standing there? Why did she clean his place? Why would she take away his alcohol?
“So you couldn’t do what you just tried to do.”
He sighed. His head hurt way too much for a conversation. He couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry at her. He got up and returned to his bed, curling onto his side and moaning as his head pounded incessantly. It felt like a bull horn was being rammed into it. His stomach heaved and Kayla’s voice was way too loud.
A hand touched his shoulder, rubbing it gently. “You don’t deserve my sympathy.”
She slid into bed beside him and wrapped her arms around him.
Jim was shaking with pain and very cold so she pulled the covers over them. It helped. Using her body warmth, she tried to radiate some heat into him and soothe his involuntary shakes. There were so many things to say. To atone for. Responsibilities he forgot and ignored but now he was paying a hefty price for. The knowledge that he’d been caught didn’t even register. Imagining the mess that Kayla must have found him in, and cleaned up? Did she really? Before or after getting rid of his stash? That much alcohol cost a lot of money.
But her arms felt nice as she rubbed his back. He closed his eyes against the throbbing pain and relaxed, spinning free.
“I hate you for doing this to me,” she hissed at him but he didn’t open his eyes. Nor move. Nor answer.
For a long time, he was happy just spinning. Still half drunk, all the poison was slowly beginning to leave his system. It was an ugly process and all Jim wanted was another splash of the toxic chemical, if only to ease his suffering. But oh, no, here she was. Definitely, no. He wondered what he’d done without any coherent thoughts getting through the pain. He whispered finally, “I know.”
Blessed sleep finally caressed him and his slumber removed him from all he’d done and was prepared to lose.
Hearing him in the bathroom, Kayla rushed to the bedroom door, stopping when she realized he was heaving his guts out. Gross. Fun. After a while, he stumbled out. He weaved and swayed, grabbing the air, aiming for the bed, but misjudging the distance and falling on his knees before the bottom dresser drawer, where he desperately searched inside it. His surprise and puzzlement were only exceeded by his pain.
Curling up in his bed, he began to moan, and he wasn’t the Jim Kayla admired and respected. He was pathetic to her in his smelly, sweaty boxer shorts and t-shirt.
Shivering with the pain that ruthlessly accompanied his hangover, Jim looked so helpless, like a streak of misery, yet he drew her to him.
Kayla couldn’t go to sleep until the sun began to come up. She fell into a troubled, dream-filled sleep that wasn’t restful. Waking with a start, she blinked and sat up. Empty bed. She squinted at the bathroom but it was empty too.
Turning around, she jumped when she saw Jim.
He was sitting on the floor on his butt with his back against the wall, and his knees up. His head rested on the wall and he smelled clean because he’d showered. That much both surprised and relieved her. Black sweats and a sweatshirt were all the clothes he wore, and his feet were bare.