Fight For Me ✔

Chapter 35

Liam

Stumbling into the hallway I can't believe how... hot I am. It's like a fire is burning inside me, and I have to blink a few times to stop the world from spinning.

Walking a bit more steadily into the kitchen I fumble a little with the glass, before managing to fill it with water from the sink. Downing it in one gulp I refill it, drinking this one slowly.

What's wrong with me? It's like I'm drunk but I haven't had that much. I've had less than I usually do and way less than what I can handle.

Suddenly the world is swimming before my eyes, and the glass slips between my fingers to scatter against the linoleum floor.

"Shit..." I whisper in a voice rougher than it normally is. The world doesn't regain its natural form, so I stagger to the kitchen table to sprawl on one of the chairs. Spreading my legs I put my head down between them, hoping the added blood will help get back my bearings but I get hotter, there's a slight buzz in my ears and my head is still spinning.

I don't know how long I sit there, but fearing that I'll do something unmanly, like fall forward with my ass in the air, I slowly sit up again, put my elbow on the table and my head in my hand with my eyes closed. A sudden hand on my shoulder makes me raise my head to look at the blurry figure in front of me.

The blur moves but the feminine voice sounds like it's from far away and spoken through a tunnel. Opening my mouth to answer I'm not sure whether I succeeded or not, but next thing I know there's a weight on my lap and the figure moves closer, until I feel the soft press of lips against my own.

Startled, I raise my hand to weakly push against whatever bitch who decided to snag a piece of something not hers, but she stays where she is even pressing more firmly against me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! Unable to keep control of my limbs, my hand fall back to my side.

One second she's there and the next she's gone. I'm so relieved but still unable to do anything but slump in the chair. Then another face is in front of me, and this one seems to be yelling. Loudly. So loud, in fact, that some of the unsavory names I'm being called makes it through the thick haze surrounding my mind.

Then another one is in my face and I feel someone tapping me lightly on the cheek, trying to bring me back around.

I blink trying to clear the blur.

*****

The next time I wake up I'm starring at a lamp, annoyingly placed right above the bed I'm currently sleeping in, and being hell on my sore eyes and thundering headache.

Averting my eyes from the light, I end up focusing on the person at my bedside. "Ma?"

"Oh Liam, Liam are you okay?" she reach out and places her palm against my forehead. "Does your head hurt? Do you feel sick? Do you want some water?"

"Mrs. Paine, please. I need to examine your son." With clear reluctance ma yields her spot beside me to a young man in his late twenties or early thirties wearing a lab coat. "Hello Liam how are you feeling."

"Like shit." I answer and look around the room. The walls are a dull cream color, there's a basic closet beside the door, a large machine beside my bed and a set of chairs by the window currently housing my pa's big body. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where I've woken up. "What happened?"

"Well," the doctor begins. "We've examined a blood sample taken immediate by the EMT's called and we've discovered a potent cocktail of drugs in your system, but mainly Rohypnol."