3. Rya
3
RYA
The throbbing in my head is secondary only to the nausea making itself known again. I’ve never had a hangover like this. Never felt this way before in my entire life. I blink as my eyes flutter open. Where am I? Is the ceiling above me abnormally high or is my brain playing tricks on me? Nothing else makes sense, either. Not the way the room smells or the intermittent beeps coming from somewhere off to my left. My brows knit together, but the crease down the middle of my forehead hurts, so I end up wincing instead.
Swallowing is difficult with my throat so parched. I’d like a gallon of water one second, and, in the next second, my stomach pitches violently, reminding me of how bad an idea that would be.
Moaning, I try to roll away from a light source that shouldn’t be there, and I’m immediately reminded of the morning I woke up in Jaxon’s room and didn’t know where I was. If I thought that was the worst I’d ever feel in my life… well, I was very, very wrong. Dragging in an unsteady breath, I will it all away. Both the thumping in my head and the twisting of my stomach point to me having somehow rained hell down on myself again. But had I? I can’t possibly be that dumb.
Why can’t I remember shit? What day is it? Whimpering, I turn my face into the pillow only to find it flat and uncomfortable, the pillowcase rough. Awareness that I’m not in my own bed in Deveney Hall sends a shudder of unease through me. Hazy memories come to me—bright lights shining in my eyes and efficient, clinical voices. A hospital. I’m in a hospital. But how did I get here? What happened to me?
“Rya? Are you awake?” comes a voice from my right.
Then from my left, there’s another. “She need some water?”
Both voices are familiar. But holy weirdness. I must be really fucked-up because Logan and Jaxon would never willingly be in a room together if they could help it. My brain claws and scratches to remember something— anything —from last night. The more I try, though, the more obvious it is that it’s all just… black. There’s nothing. And the effort makes my head pound and pound.
“Tiny Dancer, can you sip at this?” Logan . My heart pangs, needing to believe he’s actually here and not a figment of my imagination. There’s a nudge of a straw at my lower lip, and I know he must be. Only he’d be so insistent that I hydrate. I pinch my eyes tighter as I accept the tip into my mouth and suck. Cool liquid floods my mouth, and I release a tiny groan of pleasure, but then as it slides down my greedy throat, my stomach rebels angrily. On a choked cry, I try to prop myself up. There’s movement behind me on the mattress, then I sense something being held under my chin. A hand brushes wild tresses of hair from my face while another gently holds my shoulder.
“It’s okay if it doesn’t stay down, Ry. You’re getting IV fluids.”
At Logan’s reassurance, my stomach heaves, and I retch. And the hell of it is, I feel too awful to acknowledge the mortification rolling through me.
“You’re okay. We’ve got you. Take another sip, but this time spit it out.”
Half-confused again, his nickname falls from my lips on a pathetic whisper. “Lo?”
“Yeah. I’m here, baby.”
“We both are, pretty girl.” The voice that is usually so smooth and charming is anything but.
“Ja-Jaxon?”
“Yep,” he whispers roughly from behind me. The mattress shifts as he gets up, and a few seconds later, the sound of running water meets my ears. I’m so tired, I feel myself drifting. It’s not until the bed dips again that my eyes flicker open.
Logan presses his lips to my forehead. “There she is.” He lets out a cautious sigh of relief, his blue eyes studying me.
“Was there an accident or something?” I blink rather heavily before focusing on him again. Words scrape and pull, leaving my throat raw as they try to exit. “I don’t understand. You’re both here. Why? What happened?”
Logan’s jaw is rigid as he slowly nods. “We are.”
“Rya,” Jaxon says hesitantly, “we think you were slipped something at the party.”
I blink as Jaxon’s words hit me in the chest. Slipped something? “Party?” I croak out, my brows drawing together as I unsuccessfully attempt to bring memories to the forefront of my mind. But… there’s nothing.
“Tri-Beta.” Logan’s voice is soothing as he brushes a hand down my arm.
My lip trembles. “I-I don’t remember.”
A breath gusts from Jaxon before he murmurs, “They had us playing another of their fucking stupid games. We weren’t going to go in, but Hazel was already drunk and wouldn’t listen. She ran inside and you went in after her. I followed.”
Fuck, why can’t I remember any of this ? I try to put on a brave face, but I’m crumpling fast on the inside. “W-what kind of game?”
Logan’s eyes dart over my shoulder, and while I usually read him well, I don’t understand the look he exchanges with Jaxon. Shifting, I roll to my back so I can see them both, and I check Jaxon’s face for any clue I’m missing. He grips the back of his neck with one hand and tugs a few times. “One of those dumbass games—Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only, they called it Seven Minutes in Tri-Beta Hell.”
When I don’t respond with more than confusion, Logan wets his lips, continuing the explanation. “You know. Stick two people in a closet for seven minutes and see what shenanigans go down? I, uh… I was there, too. With Levi. Trip put his own twist on it, though. Handed out instruction cards for each pair as they went in… and offered money if we admitted to following through with what was on the card when we exited.” He picks up my hand, pressing his lips to the back of it.
I don’t think I’m imagining it when Logan’s eyes flick to Jaxon’s again, and his jaw tenses.
Jaxon shoots me a clenched smile. “You and Hazel were selected, by the way. According to her, you’re a good kisser.”
“We were?” My face heats as I dig around for a nonexistent memory. “Um. I am?”
Shrugging, a grin tugs at Logan’s lips. “You both admitted to doing it”—he cringes—“but now Hazel is the only one who knows if that was the truth or just a way to get Trip to cough up a couple hundred bucks. No one would blame you if that were the case.”
I blink, my eyes widening as I look back and forth between the two of them. Bemused, I huff out a weak laugh. “I have no idea if that happened.” Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I wonder what else happened that I’m unaware of. Whatever went down, I guess I’ll hear more about it in the hours and days to come… And how awkward is that? I fight off a wave of apprehension. I feel it edging ever closer.
As if they both sense the revelation that I’ve been drugged is too much for me, they pull back without even discussing it, choosing to tell me about mostly inconsequential events. There’s no doubt there are things they aren’t telling me. “You’re both being so nice.”
I’m in the process of sucking up the courage to ask them to give me more details when a knock on the door interrupts us, and my still-spinning head registers a nurse coming in. I vaguely remember seeing her earlier. Maybe . She glances at the IV before turning to the computer at the side of the room and picking up some sort of scanner. She turns back to me and smiles. “Can you give me your name and birth date?”
I blink as she scans the code on the wristband I hadn’t noticed I’m wearing. “Um, sorry, my head feels like I’m sludging through mud.”
“Take your time.”
“Rya Lynn Monroe. September 2, 2005.”
She nods. “Excellent. Rya, you took a pretty good hit to your head, and I’m sure your mind isn’t the clearest yet, so I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Jennifer, one of the nurses who has been assisting you since you arrived in the ER.”
Confused, I reach up, for the first time recognizing my head hurts worse on my right side near my hairline. My fingers fumble for a second, grazing a bandage. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale hard.
With an apologetic smile, she continues, “Dr. Murphy is on her way to come speak with you. She has results from the tests that were run earlier.” Her gaze flicks to Logan and Jaxon who haven’t moved, both frozen in place on either side of me. “We can ask your friends to leave the room while she discusses the findings, if you’re uncomfortable.”
My heart thuds heavily in my chest. “Findings?” I ask with a quiver in my voice that has my eyes crashing shut. “I’m sorry.” I hesitate, taking several breaths that do nothing to calm me. “I’m a little out of it.” My fingers mangle the sheet draped over my lower half as I meet her kind eyes. The sympathy emanating from her is making me nervous. “I don’t know what to expect.”
“I understand that. I’m going to be here with you.” Her eyes wander to Logan, then Jaxon, a momentary perplexed look in them as she studies the three of us. “Your friends can stay, if you prefer.” Her phone vibrates with a message, and she glances down. “I’ll be right back. One sec.” Shoving her phone back into the pocket of her scrubs, she exits, leaving the three of us alone again.
I wet my lips, dangerously close to hitting the panic button. “W-what’s going on? Please just tell me. Everyone’s walking on eggshells, and it’s making things worse.”
Logan clears his throat. “Rya, we don’t want to upset you, that’s all. There was a period of several minutes when we didn’t have eyes on you. We were involved in the game, too.” His eyes dart to Jaxon’s, and it’s almost as if he’s begging him to help but at the same time issuing a warning. And that’s really fucking confusing to me. My teeth scrape over my lip as I take in the pained expression on Jaxon’s handsome face.
“Pretty girl, the tests will probably tell us you were given some sort of drug.”
“You already said that.” I frown, a sick feeling creeping in. “What am I missing?”
He blows out a breath, rubbing a hand over his mouth before he drops it and looks me dead in the eye. “There’s a legitimate concern that you may have been assaulted.” He halts, watching the play of emotion crossing my face.
Logan winces. “It actually didn’t occur to me at first.” He grazes careful fingers over my head. “You were bleeding and unconscious. We figured you’d been given something. And there’s not much other reason for someone to do that to you, I guess.”
He’s not wrong. A convulsive swallow works its way down my throat, fear rising within me.
With an aggrieved look in his eye, Jaxon murmurs, “The doctor wants to make sure she knows what they’re dealing with so they can help you. I think that’s what she’s about to say.”
All the air is sucked right out of the room with his words. I can’t breathe. Doing an internal scan, I draw in a quaking breath. “I-I don’t know. Would I know if?—?”
A light series of taps on the door grabs our attention. The other nurse, Charlie, has returned, this time with a middle-aged brunette in a white coat. “Hello, Rya. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Murphy.” She crosses to the end of the bed, giving off this efficient, intelligent, matter-of-fact vibe that I’m glad for. “I’d like to share what the test results were, ask you a few questions, and give you some options.”
There’s something in her eyes that tells me none of this is anything I want to deal with.