I wake up feeling groggy and confused. What's going on? I try to sit up, but my head is throbbing and pounding like crazy. I let out a groan and squeeze my eyes shut, reaching up to put a hand to my temples. I hear rushed footsteps walking toward me.
"Natalie!" It's Ed's voice. I can't read his expression. I open my eyes and look up at him. I see that I'm in a hotel room. I'm feeling extremely scared and confused. I reach my hand up toward him and he takes giving it a squeeze.
"Ed. What the hell?!" My voice is trembling. I clear my throat.
"How do you feel?" He asks, reaching down to brush a piece of hair off of my forehead.
"I feel awful. Ed, please tell me what's happening! What's going on? When did you get here? Where am I??" The pitch of my voice rises with every sentence, and I feel myself rising into a panic.
Ed looks around the room nervously, trying to find the words to say. "Crap."
I feel tears welling up in my eyes.
"No, don't cry," he says softly. "I don't know what happened, love. I'm trying to figure it out."
"How long was I out?"
"Almost two hours. Natalie..." he looks at me. Now I can see anger in his eyes. "How much did you have to drink?"
I frown, trying to remember. "Not more than a couple glasses, not near enough to get wasted!" His expression is scaring me. "Tell me
what's happening!" I plead. I'm actually crying now. The pain in my head, the nausea, not being able to remember anything... It's freaking me out.
Ed let's go of my hand and climbs up over me on the bed, dropping down to lay beside me. He puts an arm around my shoulder and strokes my hair. "Shhhh. It's okay. What's the last thing you remember? Tell me everything."
I don't know why he's making me do this, but I figure I might as well. I relay to him the events of the night, starting when we walked into the club and ending whenever Risa and Kyle left. "I don't remember much else."
Ed frowns. "Tanner got you a drink?"
I nod.
"Did you see him get it?"
"No. I was in the bathroom."
"Shit." He balls his hand into a fist.
I swivel my head to look at him. His jaw is set and he looks angrier than I've ever seen him. It's scary.
"What??"
"That little fucker."
"Ed!" I exclaim.
He blows air out of his cheeks. "I came in at at around one. I went to the front to check in, and I saw him in the lobby all the way across from the bar, holding your hand and practically dragging you towards the elevators. You weren't speaking or anything, just kind of looking around in space." He's speaking quickly and angrily, and his usual stutter is erased.
"I don't remember him taking me anywhere!"
"Right. So I walk over and stop him and look at you and ask you where on earth you're going, and you kind of look at my shoulder and are like 'I dunno.' And you're all swaying and stuff. And this Tanner guy is looking really nervous and twitchy-like, so I push him away and tell him that I've got it from here. And he runs off and I take you up here, and you..." He trails off.
"I what?"
He frowns. "You kind of threw up on the bathroom floor a little bit. Then I carried you in here and you passed out on the bed."
I grimace. "Sorry."
He shakes his head. "I don't care about that. I think that asshole put something in your drink. And if I'm right, and I'm 99 percent sure that I am, he wasn't bringing you up to the rooms just to 'chill.'"
I stare up at him wide-eyed. "You're joking."
"I don't think so."
I feel the tears coming again, and I turn away from him shamefully. "I'm sorry," I say. "I should've been more careful, or, something..."
He wraps his arms around me from behind and nestles his head on my neck. "Don't say that," he whispers. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's him who needs to be sorry. And I swear I will make him pay for every bit of that."
