Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Having my power of choice taken away is a completely different situation, one I would never wish on anyone. And I’m so thankful that Hawke found me before anything serious happened, but I can’t say the same for anyone else.
“I was hoping we could have mimosas, but okay,” she says. She flags down the next waitress and orders a mimosa. “The latte was just to get something in my stomach.” I don’t even have it in me to dispute her logic. “You’re always up for a drink. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, I am not,” I grit out, my last nerve so close to snapping. Is this all she has to say to me? After everything that’s happened? I knew she was self-absorbed, but this is next level.
“Good, that would suck. You’re one of my only friends I can depend on for a good time. Everyone else is becoming so boring.”
I don’t look at pregnancy the way she does. I wouldn’t think it sucked if I were pregnant. But I don’t indulge her. I’m actually shocked when she starts talking about her boyfriend as if this is the most casual conversation in the world. As she’s talking, her drink is brought out. She thanks the waitress and then gets embarrassed when a small amount of blood trickles from her nostril. She pulls out an already soiled tissue and wipes her nose.
I don’t know what drug she’s on, and, to be honest, I don’t care.
“That hay fever gets bad with the pollution,” she explains before telling me how she and Jared might move in together. She then dives into a story of her accidentally cheating on him the same night I was drugged.
“I told him it was an accident because I was drunk, and now he won’t answer his phone. I need you to find him for me. I’m scared I’ve lost him forever.” She sobs and wipes at her tears. “Well, say something.”
Only my closest friends know the true extent of my hacking and tracking abilities. Makayla has only seen a fraction of what I can do. Stalking social media pages was commonplace back in college.
I’m so baffled by her ability to focus only on herself that I don’t just get up and leave because I’m concerned she might need psychiatric help.
“I was drugged.” Her gaze shoots up to mine, and her hand, that was stretching out for her half-empty glass, pauses for a moment. “At the party you invited me to.”
She stares at her drink before taking a sip. “You left with your friend.” I don’t like the way she seethes the word “friend.”
“He didn’t drug me. One of your friends did,” I tell her, and she begins to sob.
Oh, for the love of God.
“I’m sorry. This is a lot for me, and I can’t take on your stuff as well. Not only is my relationship with Jared rocky, but one of my friends has gone missing too, so it’s a lot.”
My mind blanks. Is that the only reaction I’m going to get from her? I didn’t expect much, but is that all she’s actually capable of? I feel bad for anyone who might’ve considered her a real friend, and I’m grateful I have Billie and Hope, who I know would both literally kill for me.
How fucking drugged out of her mind was Makayla that night?
“That sucks” is all I can manage to say. I do have sympathy for someone dealing with something sketchy, like the disappearance of a friend, but I refuse to take on her shit, especially when she doesn’t deserve that type of friendship from me.
“Yeah, Lester is a good friend. Maybe that’s why Jared’s not talking to me.”
A shudder runs through me. Lester is the guy who was trying shit with me when I couldn’t even stand.
I hacked the security footage from that night. Someone tried to wipe the recordings, most likely covering Hawke’s ass, but I was still able to retrieve them. I watched the moment Hawke came in and beat the shit out of the guy who was making advances on me. I was mortified to see myself in that state. Never again. Never again will I be helpless or unguarded like that.
When I drilled down deeper, I discovered that Lester had been taken to the hospital. But the night after the event, he disappeared completely. I don’t have to ask too many questions to figure out who was behind it. I don’t have any remorse for him. How many others had he hurt?
“You know it was Lester who was trying shit on me when I was drugged out of my mind, right?” I say.
She throws her hands in the air. “It’s not all about you. I might not remember what the fuck happened that night, but I know it was your friend who beat the shit out of Lester. He goes to the hospital, and then, poof! He’s gone. Do you not care?!” she exclaims, slamming her hands on the table.