Kody glared back, but crossed the small room and pressed a kiss on my forehead. "Press your nurse buzzer if he pisses you off, okay? I'll be quick."
"It's fine," I assured him, blinking my heavy lids as he frowned in concern, then shot Archer a warning glare on his way out of my room.
Silence fell over the room as the door clicked shut once more, but for once it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Archer made no move to speak, staring off into the distance like he was totally lost in his own thoughts, so I let my eyes close. Just for a moment.
I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until a warm hand touched mine, threading our fingers together. I cracked my lids and found Archer had moved from his seat in the corner of the room and taken Steele's right beside my bed. It was his fingers laced with mine, and his head bent over our hands like he was praying.
"Hey," I croaked, and his face shot up with a slightly panicked expression.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." He started to release my hand, but I tightened my fingers around his, indicating that I wanted him to stay.
I let out a yawn. "It's fine, I wasn't asleep. Just..."
He grimaced. "Out of it."
"Yup," I agreed.
We fell silent again, and my gaze dropped to our hands. His thumb was rubbing small circles on my skin, and that small gesture gave me so much comfort it was almost staggering.
"You saved me," I whispered after some time.
Archer shook his head, not meeting my eyes. "I never should have left you alone. That whole meeting with Zane and Charon... what if that'd been a diversion? A distraction to strip you of backup?"
I gave a soft snort. "But it wasn't. That drugged drink was meant for Drew. I was just a fucking moron for drinking it."
He let out a shaking sigh, but still didn't look at me. He just lowered his head until his face touched our joined hands, his eyes shut tight, and stayed like that while I drifted back into a weird, scattered dream state that made my pulse race.
I was kept in the hospital overnight for observation while the fentanyl passed through my system. It was a long night of vomiting, nausea, headaches, and panic attacks, but I didn't spend even a second of it alone. The guys took it in shifts to stay with me, and I took a huge amount of strength from their continued presence in my room, despite all the drama they must be dealing with outside.
The police came by twice to speak with me during the night. Once to question me about my "attack" and ask what—if anything—I remembered about the person who'd given me that first dose of Narcan and locked me in the trunk of Steele's car. The second time was to interview me about Drew's death.
I wasn't a suspect in any way—my alibi was pretty solid—but a whole heap of people had seen me argue with her earlier in the evening. It was hard to believe in coincidences when I was almost killed and she was.
One of the cops let it slip that Drew had been found with a bag of Rohypnol in her pocket and they speculated that it was a gang-related crime. But a sinking feeling in my gut told me why she’d been in possession of that particular drug.
She'd tried to roofie me.
I'd been right to avoid the drink she was offering me, but I'd been oh so wrong in taking hers instead.
It was midmorning by the time my doctor cleared me for discharge, on strict orders to rest and maintain fluids for the next few days. He reminded me no less than six times of the fact that I was lucky to be alive and—essentially—not to fuck up again.
The boys drove me home in silence, everyone exhausted from a long-ass night, and I let myself doze off a couple of times in the backseat with my head propped on Kody's shoulder.
It wasn't until Steele stopped the car in front of our decorative iron gates with that ostentatious, monogramed “D” that I yawned and sat up.
"Why are we stopped?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep as I blinked focus into my eyes. The gates had rolled open on their automatic motor, but our car wasn't moving. Steele and Archer just sat there staring ahead like they'd seen a ghost.