SIN CITY - {H.S au}

Chapter 4 - Poison

Peyton

My legs twisted and tangled through white bedsheets, my face warm and tingly from what felt like to be sun rays peaking through the thin curtains, lazily covering a window.

Where am I?

My lips parted only to to let out a cough from how dry my mouth is, the taste of weed and liquor still resonating on my tongue from the night before.

My eyes fluttered open, only to be snapped wide when I glanced down to see I was still fully clothed in my jeans and cropped white tank top. I ripped the covers from off of my body in the realization that my chucks were still tied tightly on my feet.

But that wasn't the strangest part of it all.

The knees of my jeans were ripped, the skin of my knees raw and scraped up as if I had fallen, dried blood coating the fabric.

My left wrist also felt sore and stiff for some odd reason, almost like I slept on it wrong.

What the fuck? Why do I still have my God damn shoes on? And why am I bleeding?

I ran a hand up through my curls that were an absolute mess crowning my head, the ring that Harry had of mine throughout the night was placed on my finger, although I have no fucking clue as to how or when I got it back.

And that's when it hit me that I don't remember a single thing after walking into that green-lit bar.

"Oh God, Peyton what the fuck did you do last night?" I groaned as I sat back against the headboard, the back of my head banging against the wood carelessly as I stared at the light blue painted wall in front of me.

I don't know how I even got up to my Airbnb, I don't even know how I got into bed. Did I get blackout drunk? There's no way I could've gotten that drunk, I only remember ordering the bourbons, two for me two for Harry.

I didn't have a crippling headache and nausea washing over me, so I couldn't have gotten that drunk. Unless my stupid ass ended up falling somehow and hitting my head, which still wouldn't make sense as to why and how I got here with no recollection.

"For fuck sakes, think you dumbass, " I muttered to myself, pinching my bottom lip between my fingers as I tried to pick at my brain for any details.

I glanced over to the small chair in the corner of my room, my crossbody purse hung off of the back, all of the money I had won at the casino peaked out from the opening, nearly spilling out of it.

Right, that happened.

I wonder if I made a complete fool out of myself in front of Harry and his friends, I mean Harry had to be the one who drove me back here, there is no doubt about it. But why is there a large chunk of time missing from my memory?

Did Harry bring me all the way up here?

I remember the few hours at the casino, I remember the man rudely bumping into me causing Harry to snap angrily. We shared a joint as we walked down the streets of Vegas, only to end up at that sketchy bar on the corner. We had ordered the drinks, Harry went outside to talk with an old friend.

And then what?

I pinched the bridge of my nose a little too hard only to get the shit absolutely startled out of me when my phone, that was placed on the nightstand beside me began to ring loudly throughout the quiet space.

I rolled onto my side as I fumbled for the phone, cursing under my breath when I noticed the name popping up on the screen.

Nadia. My pain the the fucking ass older sister.