23. Help!
23
HELP!
RORY
I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, it’s so dark I can barely see. The only light filling the room is from the garden outside. The string lights scattered throughout the trees cast a soft glow through the windows.
My shoulders ache from my arms being stretched out over my head all night. I move my head from side to side as I again test out my restraints. I’d spent hours screaming and tugging on them. My wrists are raw from my efforts and I can see blood smeared across the white sheets beneath them. The slight spinning sensation in my head as I move has me instantly on edge.
No.
The stupid headaches have plagued me since my concussion last year. I can’t get a migraine now, not while I’m stuck on my back on this mattress. There isn’t enough slack in the chains to fully roll from one side to the other.
Lifting my head, I let out a groan when my vision suddenly dips and rolls. The vertigo quickly worsens. The room spins around me, and I choke on a stifled sob.
“Help.” My little plea is far too soft for anyone to hear. Not that anyone would come, anyway.
I shut my eyes tight, but the sensation of moving follows me. It’s work to clear my throat enough to try again, fighting a cotton feeling in my mouth, my throat hoarse and scratchy from hours of screaming.
“Help.” My cry is a little louder this time, but nowhere near loud enough. Swallowing hard, I lift my head and project my voice, this time achieving the volume I need. “Help, someone, please!” I call, a newfound desperation in my voice.
When my stomach rolls, another sob escapes me, along with a few tears. They stream down my cheek and into my ear. Lifting my head again costs me. The spinning worsens, and nausea becomes a brand new concern.
I need my medicine. I need it. Ever since the accident, I carry it with me always. A grade 3 concussion can fuck with you long term. The migraines are one of the complications that have lingered. They’ve improved, but I’m fairly certain stress is a trigger. And I’m fucking stressed.
My meds are in my backpack. I don’t know where it is now but I know I saw Jimmy pick it up when they took me from the club. It’s a long shot it it’s even here. Probably tossed out when they found nothing of value inside. It’s an even longer shot if I can convince Aidan or one of his brothers to give it to me.
The world tilts again and a familiar metallic taste floods my mouth. I squeeze my lips shut and try breathing deeply to will away the nausea. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. My skin is hot all over, feverish. Another violent lurch of vertigo and the tears are in full-on stream mode. I’m going to throw up.
With the last of my strength, I let out a scream of fear. “Aidan! Aidan, please !” I hate how desperate I sound, but it’s the truth. If he doesn’t help me.. .
My eyes fly open at the sound of the door opening. Squinting through tears, a wave of relief rolls through me at the sight of Aidan’s irritated face illuminated by the soft light of the hall.
“As much as I love hearing you beg, Kostalova,” he drawls, “some of us are trying to sleep.”
I blink at him, my head spinning too much to form any of the words I need to say.
The annoyance on his face only grows, and he turns to leave, his hand on the door as he starts to close it behind him.
No.
“Stop. Please Aidan ...” My voice is shaking with fear. I’d like to think the emotion in it appeals to his better nature, but his face is stone cold when he turns back around to face me.
“I swear to God, Rory, don’t make me gag you—” He takes a few steps into the room, coming closer.
“ My—my pills. I need my pills. Please . Backpack. Orange bottle.” I rush the words out, no longer capable of full sentences. My head is in full spins now, stomach rolling violently; the metallic taste in my mouth growing stronger.
He stops in the middle of the room, studying me. His eyes narrow into a glare of suspicion. “I don’t have time for this—” He turns back toward the door…
That’s when it happens. I lose the vice grip I have on myself and have just enough time to throw my head to the side before my stomach empties itself. All over the bed. All over me. I forget all about Aidan, choking on vomit while trying to get much needed oxygen into my lungs.
There’s a brief reprieve before it starts again. I inhale sharply, my throat burning with acid.
Suddenly, there are hands in my hair, pulling the strands away from my face. I heave again and my entire body shakes from the violence of my sickness. One of my hands is freed and then the other, and next thing I know, I’m being rolled onto my side.
I have a vague sense of Aidan’s voice shouting in the background, but it’s as if I’m underwater, unable to make out any of the sound. I only hear muffled noises that seem so very far away. My vision fades in and out of black and I pause, my entire body trembling, while I wait to see if I’ll be sick again.
“Breathe. Deep breaths,” Aidan instructs. His voice is soft in my ear, his hands still in my hair. One hand holds it away from my face while the other gently strokes the strands, almost soothingly.
“Liam!” Aidan turns toward the door before shouting again toward the hallway. I flinch at the rise in volume and feel him pause.
“I got it, I got it—” Liam hurries into the room. His eyes are wide as he takes in the sight of me before dropping them back to the black backpack he’s holding in his hands.
I blink at the familiar bag while he rummages through it.Another wave of dizziness hits me and my body tenses as I brace myself. Aidan stiffens beside me.
“C’mon man,” Aidan mutters impatiently.
“Okay, I think this is it—here—” Liam thrusts something at Aidan. I exhale in relief as the rattling sounds of pills bouncing around a container hits my ears.
Aidan takes the bottle, quickly skimming over the directions before popping off the lid and dumping two small white pills into his palm. I want to reach for them but can’t seem to make my arm move.
He leans in. His gaze holding mine as he gives me a slow nod. “Bottoms up, Kostalova.” I open my mouth, letting him drop the pills inside. He follows up with a few sips of water. I swallow deeply. My body shivers with relief, as if it knows help is on the way.
We wait in silence for several long minutes. Liam must have slipped out of the room at some point.
My rapid breathing finally evens out, body relaxing as the vertigo ebbs away. The meds provided quick relief.
“Better?” Aidan asks, the sound of his voice only slightly jarring in the tense silence.
I look up at him, nodding hesitantly. Uncertain what happens next.
“Good.” His green eyes are bright in the warm garden lights, right before he strips off my clothes.