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TREVOR HAD BEEN right – the full-sized guest bed wasn’t the most comfortable. In fact, it was as hard as a rock. I was so exhausted that it didn’t matter, however. I fell asleep within two minutes of hitting the pillow.
When Trevor woke me a few hours later, my back was stiff and I had a horrible headache.
“You okay?” he asked, staring down at me, holding a cup of coffee. He was dressed in pale blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and his leather cut. His blond hair was down and slightly damp.
I sat up and winced. “Headache.”
“I’ve got something for that. Hold on,” he said, disappearing out of the room.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat there, listening to him rummage around in the bathroom. He returned with two pills and a bottle of water.
“Advil.”
I took them from him. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Are you hungry?”
“Very,” I replied, feeling my stomach growl at the mention of it.
“Good, because I’m making us breakfast.”
I smiled. “That sounds great. Thank you.”
He nodded toward the dark oak dresser where I noticed that my clothes were sitting. “Your clothes are clean. Get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Okay,” I said, opening up the bottle of water. I shoved the pills into my mouth and washed them down.
He started walking out of the room and then turned back.
“What?” I asked, wondering why he was staring at me with such a funny smile.
“I was just thinking, I’ve had a lot of women stay overnight in this place, and I’ve never seen anyone look so good in the morning. Without makeup.”
“Right,” I said, resisting the urge to look at myself in the dresser mirror.
“No, I’m serious. You obviously have great genes. Your mother must be a gorgeous woman,” he said before leaving the room.
Thinking about her, I quickly stood up. “Crap, where’s my phone?” I called.
“Your purse is in the kitchen,” he hollered back.
I closed the door, changed my clothes, and then glanced in the mirror. “He must be either blind or looking to get laid,” I mumbled, staring at my reflection. My hair was a mess from drying overnight on the pillow, and there was still some mascara blotches under my lashes. Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair, and then licked my finger to wipe off the black crud. When I cleaned what I could, I walked into the kitchen, where the smell of bacon made me groan in pleasure.
“It smells wonderful in here.”
“Thanks.”
“A man who can cook,” I said, watching him flip the eggs. “Nice.”
“I can hold my own. Hope you like your eggs over-easy, ‘cause that’s how I made them.”
“That’s how I like them,” I said, sitting down at the table.
“You want some coffee?”
“No thanks. I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” I answered and then held up the bottle of water. “I’ll just drink the rest of this.”
He grabbed two plates and set them on the counter. “I’ve got orange juice.”
“The water is fine.”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “You like orange juice?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re drinking it,” he said, filling the plates with food. “After last night, the vitamin C will be good for you.”
“Uh, okay.”
He brought the plates over and set one in front of me.
“Wow, this is a lot of food,” I said, staring down at my plate. There were two eggs, a pile of hash browns, along with two pieces of toast, and four strips of bacon. “I normally have yogurt or a muffin for breakfast.”
“Explains why you’re so skinny.”
“I’m healthy, though.”
He opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. “I’m not saying you’re not. Just mentioning that you’re skinny.”
It was weird. I wondered if he thought I was too skinny. “Okay.”
Grinning, he poured some of the orange juice into a glass and then set it down next to my plate.
“Why do you keep grinning?” I asked.
“Why are you so insecure?”
“I’m not insecure,” I said defensively.
His grin widened.
“What is so damn funny?” I asked again, seeing the amusement in his eyes. “I just, I just don’t get it.”
He sat across from me. “Nothing, really. I just like fucking with you.”
“I can tell.”
Our eyes met.
“You can tell what?”
“That you like fucking with me,” I said.
He got a wicked look in his eyes and I thought he was going to come back with something crude, but then his face grew serious. Clearing his throat, he grabbed the bottle of ketchup and began pouring some on his hash browns. “You do realize what happened last night, don’t you?”
“I think so.”
“Tell me.”
I sighed. I’d thought it about it before drifting off to sleep. Nothing else made any sense other than Jason, or one of his friends, must have slipped something into my drink. Some kind of drug. I just didn’t know if I could prove it. “I think that maybe someone drugged me.”
“That guy, Jason?”
“I’m not totally sure. I think it was him, but it could have been one of his friends. They bought us shots and drinks. I don’t know, maybe I’m being silly. Maybe it was something else. Food poisoning. A touch of the flu. I don’t know.”
“How much did you drink?
“One shot. A couple sips of a rum and Coke.”
“That’s it?”
“Jason bought me a soda. I drank that and then we went out on the dance floor.”
A vein in Trevor’s forehead began to pulsate. He looked pissed. “He bought you the soda. That’s what I wanted to hear. Do you know where to find him?”
“Not really. I mean, we both go to the same college, I.U., but the campus is huge. I’ll probably never see him again.”
“What kind of a car was he driving?”
“I think it was a Camry. Four-door.”
“Color?”
I closed my eyes and thought back. “I think it was dark blue,” I said, opening them back up.
“What about his friends? Is there anything you can tell me about them?”
My eyes widened. “Why?”
“He needs to be stopped.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I suppose I should call the police. Maybe it’s not too late to find out if I really was drugged.”
“You were obviously drugged, probably with GHB. Anyway, we’re not calling the police,” he said, picking up his fork.
“Why? You just said he needed to be stopped. God, I wonder how many times he’s done this before?” I said, staring at my plate of food. It didn’t quite look so appetizing anymore. “GHB, huh? I’ve heard of that stuff. Just never thought it would happen to me.”
“He’ll be stopped, Kitten. Believe me. But we’re not getting the police involved. It would be a waste of time.”
“What exactly are you planning on doing?” I asked, feeling anxious now. Obviously, Jason was an asshole and should be arrested, but something told me that Trevor’s plans for him were more sinister. And violent.
“Nothing you need to know about,” he said and then nodded at my food. “Now, eat. You’ve got to be hungry.”
I bit my lower lip. “You’re going to do something illegal, aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you planning on hurting him?”
He picked up a piece of toast and dipped it into his eggs. “First of all, why do you care? And secondly, how many girls do you think he’s already hurt or will hurt?”
“I don’t know but we need to let the cops take care of this.”
“There won’t be any evidence that he did anything. It will be a waste of time.”
“What do you mean? Maybe they can test my blood for proof that I was drugged.”
“If it’s GHB, the shit dissipates in your blood pretty quickly, from what I hear. And even if they do find something, how can you prove he actually did it? Did you see him put anything into your drink?”
“No.”
“And it was a crowded bar.”
“Yeah.”
“It will be your word against his. No evidence.”
“He might have some of the drug in his car or his home. The police can get a search warrant.”
“You really want to waste your time filling out a bunch of police reports and waiting for test results, only to find out later that they don’t have any real evidence to arrest the asshole?”
I let out a ragged breath. “No. I guess not. I have to work tonight and I’ve got classes on Monday.”
“There you go. Let me handle it.”
“What exactly are you planning on doing?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Trevor?”
He sighed. “We’ll just scare the fuck out of him. Let him know he can’t get away with that shit.”
I frowned. “That’s really all that you’re going to do?”
“Yeah. Sure. Why do you care what happens to that prick, anyway?”
“I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt. “
“Jesus, you really are a bleeding-heart, aren’t you?”
I pictured Trevor getting arrested and it did something to me. “I just don’t want to see you get thrown in jail.”
“I won’t.”
“You could.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Why would you even risk it? For me? We barely know each other.”
He took a moment to answer. “Let’s just say that I despise assholes who fucking abuse women like that. Whether it’s drugging them, pushing them around, or whatever the fuck they’re doing.” His jaw clenched. “I told you how my dad used to beat the fuck out of my mom. Had to watch that shit happen for years, until I finally had the balls to stand up to him. It may have not turned out the way I’d imagined it, but it still made me feel good. Showing my old man that I wasn’t going to let him get away with that shit. Not while I was around.”
“You should be proud of yourself,” I said. “You were obviously a very brave kid.”
“I was actually scared shitless at the time. But, I made a promise to myself that I’d never stand back and watch anyone get kicked around that didn’t deserve it. Never again. Especially, women.”
“So, if you wanted to make a difference in that respect, why didn’t you become a cop instead of a... gang member?”
His face grew dark. “Because this has been my life since Slammer took me in. I’d do anything for any one of my brothers. We’re family. They’ve got my back and I’ve got theirs.”
“Yeah, but, if you’re so passionate about stopping violence again women, becoming a cop –”
“Don’t get me started on cops. Hell, the cops couldn’t help my mom. Even the times the neighbors called them and they took my old man away. He always came back, whether it was the next day or the next week. Sure, they’d make up and everything would be good for a while. But, just for a while. Then he’d beat the shit out of her again.”
I didn’t know what to say. Living through that would have taken away any faith I had in the legal system, too. Not that it was directly the cops’ fault. His mom had obviously allowed it to happen until she finally took off on her own.
I remained silent and he seemed to relax. “Listen to me, don’t you go worrying your pretty little head about what’s gonna happen to Jason. You feel me?”
I nodded. If he wanted to confront Jason, I wasn’t going to stand in the way. The asshole certainly didn’t deserve any pity from me. “Sure... I, uh, feel you.”
“Good.” He pointed at my plate with his fork. “Now, eat your food and if it makes you feel better, forget that we ever had this conversation.”
“I think I will,” I replied, cutting into my egg.