Ortai Legacy: Arrival

2.1 - Aftermath (L)

A knock on glass threatened to split my headache right open. Groaning, I dragged myself upright. My stomach turned at the sight of a broad-shouldered man in a police vest. I hesitantly rolled down the window.

"Hello?"

"Liza Shiel-Smith?" His tone was a lot sharper than that of the officer who'd once pulled me over for having out-of-date tags. Did he think I'd been part of the drinking at the party? I technically had, but it wasn't by choice.

"Yes?"

"Step out of the car."

"May I ask why?" My voice verged on a squeak.

His expression soured, and he tugged on the door handle. "Step out of the car."

I struggled to remember what I should do in this situation. Traffic stops didn't make you get out of the car unless they thought you were drunk—and he couldn't arrest me for drunk driving while I was in the backseat.

Scowling, he reached through the window and yanked the door open before dragging me out of the car.

"Wait-"

He slapped cuffs on my wrists.

Nearby, another officer stood by a cop car with flashing lights. He was talking to a tall man in a navy blue suit. I couldn't be sure from behind, but the circumstances almost guaranteed the suited man was James's dad.

"Mr. Keta-"

He turned to face me with hatred twisting his expression. "Yes, that's the girl. Be careful with her. Last night, she took something and became violent."

"I don't even drink. James-"

"-is in the hospital right now because you decided to experiment at his birthday party."

"I didn't-"

The cop who'd cuffed me jerked open the back of his car and shoved me inside. He sat in the driver's seat and closed the door. "Shut up, kid. I saw the damage. If you did it sober, that's attempted murder."

I couldn't have kicked him that hard. I'd been drunk and hallucinating, but my noodly legs couldn't have done much damage. "I didn't drink anything—at least not on purpose. He—James Keta—he told me it was a mocktail. I couldn't drink even if I wanted to 'cause of my meds—but after I drank what he gave me, I felt really weird, like I couldn't move. You don't think-" At the idea, bile stung my throat. "-he drugged me?"

"I'll have 'em test for date rape drugs at the station, but..." He met my gaze in the mirror. "...you'd better come up with a different excuse. Roofied girls don't crack skulls or shatter rib cages."

"I didn't-"

"You did. Kid's in the ICU with a punctured lung and a concussion."

I shuddered, but his partner got in the car before I could ask any more questions. Not that I really had follow-up questions—I'd clearly had a bad reaction to something James dosed me with. Our relationship had always been rocky, but I never would've expected he'd- I mean, he'd pestered me about sex, but he'd never tried-

I swiped away tears before they could fall. This couldn't be happening. I hadn't even wanted to go to the party. Deafening music and oppressive crowds were reason enough to abstain, but my inability to drink made attending parties hellish. I wouldn't have gone if not for Olivia's insistence that missing my boyfriend's birthday party would be a cardinal sin. She always acted as if she had a vested stake in our relationship. She might've introduced us, but that didn't explain why she acted like us breaking up would reflect badly on her.

Had she known James would do this? She couldn't have. If she'd known, she never would've introduced us, much less convinced me to date him. I trusted her. Except, I'd trusted James too. I'd thought we could be friends, even if we turned out to be a poor romantic match. If I'd been wrong about him, I could be wrong about Olivia too.