HANGOVER

ELENA’S POV

I could hear loud voices and arguments. We were in a club and I blinked wondering how I ended up here. But I ran towards the sound, rushing in quickly to find out what was wrong. I saw Charlotte and Adrian on one side of the room. Adrian was shielding my sister with his hands with a look of disdain in his eyes toward the other person in the room. “HEY!” I shrieked and the three pairs of eyes turned to face me. 

“What are you doing?” I questioned the intruder.

“He’s just a stalker,” Charlotte was quick to speak. The new person cursed loudly.

“What the fuck? You’re calling me a stalker. You’ve been such a bitch the last couple of days. You think I won’t tell her?” he threatened and Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. Even Adrian’s expression darkened.

“Leave here, now,” she commanded, finally bold enough to throw jacket guy out. When he won’t budge, she screamed, grabbing a bottle and smashed it against the table. Jacket guy’s expression changed to shock and he backed away. I stared at the unfolding drama in disbelief, my sister looked nothing like the person I grew up with.

She was cold and looked ballistic. And the intruder was equal parts taken aback just like I was. He huffed as he started to walk away. “I’ll see you later tonight. Or else...” he said, his eyes threatening as he left without finishing his statement.

What was he talking about?

Suddenly the scene changed and I sat in the room, eyes sunken and sad as I tried to plead my innocence. The guy we met in the club had died and I took the fall.

My world was crashing down and I tried to argue my case, but no words came out. What is going on?

On the witness stand, I saw Charlotte spewing lies with tears running down her face, then it fast forwarded to Adrian doing the same thing as Charlotte. As fast as the scene changed, I found myself in jail, on the other side of the call booth.

“Goodbye, Lena,” Charlotte was saying, smiling sinisterly. I tried to call out to her, but no sound came out, like my voice was snuffed out or I was in a vacuum. I kept screaming, but it was futile.

Please don’t go, Charlotte. Appeal my case. Tell them the truth. Wait, don’t leave.

Don’t leave me...

“Don’t leave me!” I found my voice and cried out, jolting from my sleep, beads of sweat thickly coating my forehead. It was all but a dream. I looked around me, I was in my room, the sun bright. How did I get here? I though as I tried to sit up. As if it were mad at me for stressing so much, I winced in pain as my head throbbed and the memories of last night came flooding in.

The club. Me drinking, dancing and having fun. The guy that gave me a drink. The dizzy feeling. Trying to get out. The attempted rape. Crying for help.

Damien.

He brought me home. But how did he find me? Like I had willed him to appear,he ywaned as he woke up, sitting uo straight with speed as soon as she saw that I had reagined consciousness. 

“Thank God you’re awake,” he said, getting me a glass of water and some Aspirin to help with my hangover which I took gladly without a word. After gulping down the water, I turned to him. He shot out his hand, steadying me. “Easy, easy.”

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“I looked for you?” he answered, but it sounded more like a question. I felt like smacking him, but the hangover was kicking it and I winced.

“Don’t give me that,” I said.

He sighed. “I pulled up your vredit card use after I returned and didn’t see you, then I pulled out your exact loction and tracked your phone.”

“You put a tracker on my phone?!” I shrieked before I could help myself and wicced, cursing in pain and shooting him a death glare like he was the cause of my headache. This dude has some nerve.

“I should be the one shouting the house down because you decided to run off. What where you thinking?” he sbapped. “You’ve lived a sheltered life up until now and thought it would be nice to explore the world of nightlife?”

I gulped, looking down. “And the worst of all, you chose the most terrible nighclubs in all of New York. Are you fucking kidding me? You could have gotten raped by that guy, or worse gotten killed,” he ws berating

“I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to let off some steam.”

I gritted out. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? Huh? And they spiked your drink, like, are you that naive?”

“I’m not naive, don’t fucking call me that,” I snapped back at him, not caring anymore if my head throbbed.

He let out a breath of relief, pulling me into a hug so fast I didn’t have time to react. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he muttered, pulling away.

That was odd, I wonder why he’s all protective.

It was then I realized how haggard he looked. He looked like he’d stayed up all night taking care of me, dark circles under his eyes like he’d barely slept. Faint splats of blood on his face and clothes. My eyes widened at what it could mean.

“D-did you kill someone again?” I asked, stammering in fear.

His eyes hardened and he stared at me dead in the eye before he answered.

“Yes, I killed him. He laid his hands on you, so I killed him,” he replied, his voice deep, and dark like a black hole.

I gasped, surprised that he admitted it so bluntly, but he wasn’t finished.

“He touched what was mine, nobody touches what’s mine and lives to tell the story.