CRYBABY | mitch rapp ✔️

12. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩

  CHAPTER TWELVE.
the truth.

"Get your arse out of that room right now, Angeline!"

The brunette's little black dress was a struggle to get off of her body. She stumbled around a bit and nearly knocked some books from a shelf, her stomach turning in a painful way that made her wish she had never drunk so much. The insults that were being hurtled at her by her own flesh and blood were nothing compared to some of the stuff she had heard before, so Angeline continued to ignore him.

"Leave me alone," Angeline cried back once she had finally gotten the tight material off.

It felt like she could finally breathe, her soft skin coated in a thin layer of sweat as she breathed heavily. Her head made the room feel like it was spinning, but she attempted to ignore it, heading for a random black shirt on her floor and pulling it on.

"You're an alcoholic!" The English man yelled back, making her roll her eyes. "You're always turning up at this house pissed, and I'm getting fucking sick of it. I want-- I want you drug-tested!"

Angeline moved towards the bathroom and splashed some cold water in her face, trying to stop the sickening sensation occurring throughout her body. Her brown eyes latched on dark marks on her neck and she frowned, leaning closer towards the mirror. Her fingers moved up to touch the hickeys which felt a little sore.

Sudden memories of Darcy being beneath her came back. She nearly blushed as she remembered climbing on top of the blonde teenager, recalling everything up until the point where a wave of dizziness had crashed into her.

Angeline's heart stopped and she backed away from the mirror, rushing towards her bed. She grabbed her bag and emptied everything onto the duvet, everything that had been in there at the start of the night tumbling out. Her mobile phone, her lip gloss, travel-size perfume, gum... It was all there.

But Angeline swore she remembered Darcy looking through her bag when she told her to go to sleep.

Her heartbeat quickened, her hand reaching to hold it as panic settled in her stomach. Darcy had been topping her drink up all night and she didn't remember anything that happened after that point. Ciara had also said that she had been upstairs with Darcy for a long time... but Angeline remembered nothing once Darcy had told her to relax.

It quickly became present in Angeline's mind what had happened-- she'd been drugged. She felt sick.

Quick questions like who the hell really was Darcy Reed and why did she drug Angeline filled her mind. The spinning of her head intensified and she nearly cried out loud when she realised what was happening. She dropped her bag and ran to her ensuite bathroom, dropping down in front of the toilet and gagging loudly.

She then unwillingly released the contents inside her stomach, everything she had drunk that night coming back up. It burned her throat and made her feel faint like she was going to pass out any second. It probably didn't help that she was on the verge of a panic attack, considering she just found out one of her 'friends' had drugged her and one of her biggest fears was being sick.

"Dad," Angeline called as she sobbed. "Dad, help me."

She faintly heard her door start to get bashed, a body slamming against it. The grunts didn't belong to her father but Mitch, and Angeline would have gotten up and simply unlocked it if she wasn't so scared that she was glued to her spot on the tiled floor. She heard a loud crack and Mitch's heavy breaths before Mr Lewis barged inside, moving to stand inside the doorway of the bathroom.

"P-Please, dad," she sniffled. "I'm gonna be sick again."

Maybe it was stupid, but in her drunken and vulnerable state, she wanted her dad's help. It had always been her mother to help her when she was a child, holding back her hair and speaking soothing words as she threw up. Mr Lewis just stood there, shaking his head as his daughter's sobs grew louder and she shook so hard that anybody would think she was dying.