curling into the bed with the covers, and the next, she’s crawling on her hands and knees to the toilet.
The floor seems to be quicksand, slowly sucking her down. She looks at her hands to make sure it isn’t actually quicksand and realizes she didn’t make it to the toilet. There’s vomit on the floor in front of her.
Oh fucking well. The toilet was probably freezing cold anyway.
Like a hopeless dog, she loses the strength to keep herself up and falls to the floor. The smell of her vomit assaults her nostrils but at least she can feel the warmth of it on her cheek.
“Oh no,” she hears a woman’s soft voice.
Believe it or not, she can even feel the light on her skin from the open doorway. Her senses are heightened but they are functioning chaotically.
Gentle hands swipe away at her hair, keeping it out of her face.
“Oh, Ariana. Let’s get you cleaned up.” The voice is familiar. Tender.
A set of strong arms and hands carries her into a brightly lit place and settles her down onto cold ceramic. It has to be a bathtub. That much she knows. She knows likewise that the set of hands belongs to the man who took her out of that den. A den where Cristian had taken her per Isabella’s orders. A den where she was used over and over again by one of his friends.
At least it was only one man this time. There must be a God who answered her prayers.
As for the man who took her and brought her here? Should she be grateful? She doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t know what his plans are for her. Maybe Cristian’s finally sold her permanently instead of leasing her out. Or maybe, leaving her to her own demise and dying of whatever blend Cristian injected into her system this time would have been her true salvation.
She can’t go on like this any longer.
Her debt should be paid in full by now regardless of what anyone says. And if death is the only way to call it even then so be it. She’d welcome it right now. At least there would be a possibility for her to see her mother again. She’d ask her beloved mother why she’d forsaken her to this life. She’d ask what she’d done to deserve this existence.
“How much longer before the doctor gets here?” the woman’s voice asks impatiently.
“Not too long,” the man replies.
Warm gentle hands wipe her face with a cloth. The stench of her own vomit disappears from before her nostrils. Scents of aloe and peonies waft in its place. How she loved peonies.
She might be in heaven after all.
Chapter Nine
Brooks must be off his game or extremely busy for him to make it this far into the house without even a glimpse of the man’s shadow.
He follows the soft voices to the bedroom and waits at the doorway, careful to stay against the wall and out of sight. He can hear water quietly running in what must be the bathroom. The shadows dancing on the floor says both Brooks and Stella are busy inside that bathroom.
So he slides in through the door and observes. The minute he makes out what’s being said, he steps right into the doorway.
Eyes wide, he takes in the scene of Stella on her knees next to the bathtub. Brooks is wringing out a hand towel at the sink.
He didn’t care what they were doing. All he cares about is why there’s a woman in the tub and barely conscious.
“What the fuck is going on?” he practically barks.
Stella looks startled but she regains her wits back quick enough. Brooks didn’t even give him the courtesy of a glance but instead hands his boss the wrung-out towel. Maybe Brooks did know he was here the whole time. The man is indecipherable.
“She needs help,” Stella says quietly as she wipes the sweat from Ariana’s forehead.
He steps inside the large bathroom and studies Ariana. It’s certainly her, the woman he hasn’t quite gotten out of his head. She’s shivering, pale, and clammy. Sickly looking. Completely different than the beautiful and smiling woman who sat next to Jazzy at dinner two weeks ago.
“Overdose?” he asks incredulously as if it should be a surprise. He’d known from the start she was a user.
“Not by choice,” is what Stella replies with.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he growls. The memories of Daisy, Jazzy’s biological, mother invades his thoughts but he quickly puts it back in the