Cursed (The Devil's Roses #1)

Cursed (The Devil's Roses #1) Page 9

Pulling the sheet tighter to cover myself, I realized my ring was gone. My mom’s ring wasn't on my right hand. I showered, slept, and lived in that ring from the day my mom died. I had cleaned the blood off of it myself.

The door creaked open and Alise peeked her head through the crack. I wanted to cry with joy, but I figured I would probably get sick if I did.

She looked anxious as she walked in. “Oh my God—you’re okay.”

I put a hand up to stop her. “No. Not okay. No shouting at me.”

With a disturbed expression, she asked, “What do you remember? Do you remember being at the party?”

“No." I shook. "You wanted me to drop you off at Shane’s house. I remember that guy, Wade.”

She gasped. “That was two days ago. Giselle's in the hospital. Aimee, we think someone drugged you guys.” She sat on the bed beside me, rubbing my arms. Her hand felt like razor blades dragging up my skin. I shivered in pain and sickness.

“We need to take you there now. You’ve been throwing up all night.” She put an arm under me to help me stand. “I need to get you in a robe at least, ok?”

I nodded. I needed a hospital. I felt sick in a way I had never felt.

“Where is he?” I asked still foggy on everything.

“Blake?” Alise asked, blushing.

“No, Wade. Wade with the eyes. Wade from Port Handley.”

Alise frowned. “You remember Wade?”

I nodded. “He helped me, I think.”

“He’s been gone for a while, Aimes. I think maybe you’re confused. Ready?” she asked pulling at me.

I nodded. She got me standing and dressed, with only a minor amount of pain everywhere. I wondered what Giselle had to do with me being poisoned. I didn’t like Giselle.

Shane walked into the room, smiling at me. “Hey, Aimee, are you okay?”

I didn’t understand what was happening in any way. I was with my sister and Shane.

I looked at my sister. “What did you do to me?”

“I never did anything, I swear.” Her eyes looked funny. She did something. I could see the guilt. She poisoned me.

I felt the room moving like a choppy ocean. Glimpses rolled back into my mind. I looked at Shane and winced, remembering some parts of the evening. I shook my head, swaying back and forth. “I got sick in your hallway. I’m so sorry, Shane.” My words were thick in my mouth.

He shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I obviously have friends who are sleazy bastards. Someone did this to you guys, in my house. I will find out who it was. Right now, though, I’m going to carry you to the truck, okay?” His sweet face was truly and genuinely distressed. I wanted to rub it with my hand, but I couldn’t move my arms.

He picked me up carefully, so as not to jostle me. “Wow, you are way lighter than Alise.” He snickered as he said it and Alise smacked the back of his head. “Ow—easy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He carried me down the stairs like I was air. It was familiar to me. Something about it was creepily similar in my mind. I remembered something about me being carried on his stairs.

My dad was in the truck; he looked pissed. We called it his 'stress face' and it wasn’t a pretty picture. He got out when he saw us and opened the passenger door, so Shane could lay me inside.

“Aimee, are you okay?” He looked terrified.

“Need doctor," I muttered.

He frowned at Shane. “You, young man, are going to stay away from both of my daughters for good.” He swung around to look at Alise with a burning hate in his eyes. “You did this to her; you conned her into coming to this when you know she isn’t like you. You get home now and don’t leave your bedroom for a month, GO!” he screamed, tearing my head apart.

When Alise looked at me, I saw an apologetic look I had never seen on her face. My sister was ashamed.

I would have defended them both, but I was too feeble. Shane handed me the bowl that had been on the ground beside the truck. “In case you get sick.”

“Sorry,” I muttered again, drooling a little.

He shook his head. “Feel better, Aimee.” He kissed my sweaty forehead.

My dad got in the truck, slamming the door, again ripping my head apart. I groaned in agony as Shane closed my door softly. My dad never spoke the whole way. He was seething and it was better for my head if he didn’t talk. I threw up twice in the bowl on the way, mostly it was heaving and spitting. I had never felt that sick in my life, even with food poisoning.

My dad nearly cried when he explained that the girl who was still not awake had shared her drinks with me all night.

The nurse scowled at me, like I was one of those partying reckless teenagers who had burdened her dad with this.

I was put on an IV and given some Gravol to make me sleep.

I had weird dreams.

Wade was in them, and my mom. My mom kissed me on the forehead and put her hands over my eyes. I could hear people talking. They were arguing. Wade was beside me, whispering to me that everything was going to be okay. I finally got my mom’s hands off my eyes and I could see people kissing. It hurt me to see it, but I didn’t understand why. Wade stood between the kissing people and me and shook his head. He blew me a kiss and I woke up alone.

I was groggy, but at least I knew where I was. I was tired and cold. I fell back into a dreamless sleep.

I thought I was still dreaming when I heard talking in the empty black space that had become my brain. “Are there any effects of this on her body that we should be prepared for?” My dad’s voice sounded exhausted.

“Yes, she will need to be very careful for the next couple months. This is a serious thing. The level of the drugs we found in her system was very high,” a lady spoke. I opened one of my eyes to see the light of day without the intense pain. I felt remarkably better and quite hungry.

I looked around me to see my dad and a lady doctor standing in the hallway, just outside my door.

Shane was on the chair beside my bed, passed out. He looked so peaceful, but his being in my room was freaking me out. Why would my sister's boyfriend be in my room, and where was my sister? I looked around for Alise, but didn’t see her anywhere. I knew she must be around somewhere if Shane was with me. Where was Blake? He never left me. Ever.

I pushed the button to raise my bed to a sitting position. The feeling of movement gave me a head rush. It was nothing compared to the ones I had had the day before, when my dad had checked me in. I recalled very little beyond the sick feeling.

Shane stirred and opened one of his eyes. He yawned and smiled at me. His smile made me happy; I smiled back.

“You’re awake now. Thank God. I guess that means you’re out of the danger zone,” he whispered, stretching on the recliner chair. He stood and put a hand on my head. He bent his face and kissed my forehead. I didn’t have a reaction for it. I froze.

“What?”

“You and Giselle were given some crazy homemade date-rape drug. You saved Giselle’s life by drinking half of the glass. She’s still out. No sign of her waking up anytime soon either, and with these things, apparently the longer you sleep the worse it is.” He looked at the doctor and pointed in my direction, through the doorway.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been here for five days, in and out of sleep. Giselle isn’t even stirring, the doctor said she has brain activity but she isn’t waking. They are transporting her to Children's in the city, tomorrow I think."

I covered my eyes and thought for a moment. "What? What drug? Giselle? What?"

He brushed hair from my face. He was touching me and standing so close, I could feel the warmth of him. He spoke softly, "We found you guys upstairs…each in a pile of puke, Aimes."

I had stopped listening when he had said my nickname, Aimes. I liked it when he called me that. I didn’t understand why he was with me. I tried to be cool and stay engaged.

I blushed, remembering his spare room. “How did I get to bed at your house? I remember that I woke up naked.”

He shrugged. “We don’t know. While we were getting Giselle in the ambulance and everything, we left you upstairs. We came back and you were in bed and there was a giant pile of vomit at the top of the stairs.”

“Wade helped me.” The memory flitted through my mind.

He shook his head. “No, Wade was gone, long before this happened. His girlfriend freaked on him for talking to your sister, and she made him leave. I was right there. You got yourself cleaned up, before the drug hit too hard.”

"He was there. I saw him." I remembered Wade—I remembered him carrying me. I wasn’t wrong. What if Wade had done things to me while I slept? “My ring is gone.” I held my hand out, trying not to think about Wade potentially date raping me.

He reached into his pocket. “I found it in the pile of vomit—well on top. It was shiny and clean but sitting at the top of the pile. I grabbed it and washed it for you. I know how important it is to you. It was your mom's, right?” He passed it to me. I put it on and tried to ignore that it slid on too easily. I had clearly lost more weight.

I blushed. “How do you know it’s important to me?”

He shrugged. “I pay more attention than you’d imagine, Aimee.”

I felt the heat in my face getting stronger.

He smiled. “It’s nice to see you have color again.”

Unsure where the conversation was going, I looked around. “Where’s Alise?”

He blushed. “Not sure. With Blake maybe. What do you remember?”

“It’s a haze right now. Mostly I remember Wade.” I lay back down on the bed, feeling ready for some more sleep. His words came crashing back at me and I shot up thinking out loud. “Why is she with Blake?” My head spun.

He looked preoccupied and lost in my question. “I think it's Blake and Alise’s job to tell you about what happened with them.”

I frowned, wondering why he hadn’t answered me. The doctor and my dad came into the room, before I could ask more questions. I wanted the answer to my question, but my eyes got so heavy. I blinked and Shane was gone from the room, no doubt giving the doctor some space to check my vitals.