She made a noise, a sort of sigh, and I glanced at her.
She smiled at me. “See, that’s why I need you. You’re the only one looking out for me. You’d be sad if something happened to me, wouldn’t you, baby?”
Her eyes were drifting closed. I didn’t think she expected an answer, but I gave her one, anyway. “Yes, you sweet girl, I’d be very, very sad.”
She didn’t say another word.
By the time I made it home, she had passed out cold.
I carried her inside and up to my bed, and she didn’t so much as twitch. I was worried, really worried. I thought about calling an ambulance, because I couldn’t rouse her, and she seemed to me to be barely breathing, but I honestly didn’t know if that was an overreaction.
Finally, I decided to call a neighbor, two estates down, that I knew to be a doctor.
I would owe him huge after this, because he came right over, not five minutes after I’d called, physician’s bag in hand.
John was a small man in his sixties, with glasses and a kind face. I’d always liked him, though we didn’t see each other much.
I led him up to my bedroom, telling him in detail about her condition.
“You think she was drugged?”
“It sounds like it. She said she had a drink, and she was really out of it when I picked her up.”
I’d pulled a sheet up to her neck, and my fists clenched when one of the first things he did upon sitting down on the bed was to pull it down far enough to listen to her heart rate with his stethoscope.
“What is she covered in?” he asked, sounding more curious than judgmental.
I flushed. “Some sort of body paint. At the party she was at, everyone was wearing it.”
He examined her briefly and asked me a few more questions.
“Should I call an ambulance? Does she need to go to a hospital?”
His brows drew together as he stood. “At this time, I’d say no. Whatever she was given seems to be mild. She likely didn’t consume an entire dose. Unless she gets worse, I’d say the remedy here is to let her rest. Call me if anything changes.”
I walked him to the door. Before he made to leave, he gave me a probing look. “Is she your…girlfriend?”
“Sort of,” I said with a wince. I knew everything he must be thinking.
“Well…you look out for yourself, Alasdair. You’re a good person, a trusting person, but not everyone has good intentions.”
I smiled tightly. He thought I was an idiot and a sucker. I couldn’t blame him. “Thanks for your help, John.”
“Any time. Call me if anything changes. She will likely sleep for quite some time and wake up feeling awful, but anything besides that, you call me.”
“I will. I owe you one.”
He smiled. “You do. Hurry up on that next book for me. I’ve been looking forward to it for months.”
I tried to make my smile more convincing. “I’ll get my hands on an advanced copy for you, I swear.”
“Now we’re talking. That’ll make us even, right there.”
We exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then he left.
I went upstairs to check on Iris. She slept on. I stripped what little clothes she had on, trying to make her comfortable. I got a wet cloth from the bathroom, and cleaned most of the paint and powder off, then tucked her in again.
The sun was starting to come up when I finally fell back to sleep.
I woke up after eight hours with a splitting headache, Iris still unconscious beside me.
I checked her breathing and her heart rate, and she didn’t stir.
She slept on, for five more hours.
I was a mess by the time she finally woke.
I was angry and anxious, worried and agitated.
She was still blinking, struggling to sit up, when I started in on her.
“What were you doing? What were you thinking?”
She still looked more than a little out of it, which wasn’t helping my temper.
“You aren’t ever allowed to pull any shit like that again. Why would you go to a place like that? Why would you put yourself in that position?”
I glanced at her, and the dazed look was leaving her, being replaced by an expression I didn’t like any better.
No, in fact, I liked it less.
“We need some rules here, some structure. What happened last night—that was unacceptable. You aren’t allowed to do things like that, to put yourself in danger like that.”
She sat up, pushed the covers off, and swung her legs off the side of the bed and onto the floor, her eyes on me the entire time, her gaze turned…insolent. “I’m not allowed, huh?”
She was completely nude, parts of her still covered in bits of bright paint, her hair still mostly pink, loose and disheveled now. Aside from her voluptuous curves, she looked ridiculously young like that, and it wasn’t helping. In fact, it was the whole f**king problem.
“No, no you’re not,” I said, my voice hard.
“Big talk from a guy that told me yesterday that we were just using each other. Remember that?”
I took an involuntary step back at her tone. “I told you—”
“I know what you told me, and I know what you think. You think that people our ages can only use each other. Which tells me a lot about what all of this has been…for you.”