Adah

The soft warmth of sunlight on my skin woke me. I savored the clean white sheets covering me, thinking of how sweet my mom was for changing them. Content, I smiled and burrowed.

My mom. It wasn’t possible. My mom was dead.

I shot up from the bed, dazed. Blinking several times, I looked around and swallowed the panic climbing up my throat at the unfamiliar room. Where the hell am I? And what is the horrible smell?

“It would really help right now if you don’t panic,” I muttered, taken aback by the horrible smell of my breath. Closing my mouth, I took several deep breaths to calm my rapid beating heart.

At least I still had clothes on, even though they were soiled with dry… vomit. That was where the stink came from. It was me. Good God.

I could recall everything that happened yesterday except for last night. Blurred images floated in my head but nothing concrete to give me a clue. Getting kicked out of my apartment because I couldn’t pay the rent for two months was brutal. Leaving most of my belongings was easy since most of it was old and cheap and from flea markets. I had only taken my good clothes and mementos of my mother, stowing everything in the campus locker.

For the first time in my life, I stepped into the club not to serve drinks or wipe tables, but to get drunk. It was my version of giving life the finger. I was a light weight, and it didn’t take long at all until alcohol hit my system.

Since paranoia was my best friend, I looked at my arms and was relieved that I still ahd all my fingers. My legs were still covered by the white duvet and I wondered if they were still attached to my body. I wiggled my toes. Great, still worked. Lifting my shirt, I made sure I didn’t have any fresh stitches or pain. Someone could have stolen my liver, my kidneys or any of my precious organs. Satisfied that all my body parts were intact, I studied the room more closely.

To call it a room seemed an understatement. It was larger than my whole apartment, furnished with expensive, tasteful things. A wide glass window with heavy white curtains encompassed almost the whole wall to my right, showcasing a prime view of the city. I must be in a high-rise building since the city looked small from where I was.

Did I do something wilder than getting drunk last night? Like maybe…. God forbid, sleeping with a stranger? Lifting my butt, I did some Kegel exercise as if that would tell me if I had lost my virginity. Well, I wasn’t sore. I was panicking again…
“Deep breaths, Adah. Deep breaths.”

I quietly removed myself from the bed, feet sinking into plush white carpeting. Whoever owned this place must be loaded, and I had no intention of meeting him. What if he was a drug lord? Someone this rich must be one. What if he wanted to fatten me up first before selling my organs?

Calm down, idiot!

Before I could worm my way out, I spotted the en-suite bathroom and took advantage of it. When I was done, I slowly crept to the door, peeked out. Even in my panicked state, I couldn’t help but notice my incredible surroundings. I’d only seen something like it in the glossy pages of magazines. Everything sparkled and looked sleek and modern. High-priced paintings were strategically placed on white walls and an enormous TV sat in front of an L-shaped cream couch. Hardwood floors gleamed beneath my feet.

I sneered at the luxury of it.

Life was unfair, I mused as I tiptoed my way out of this place. My breath caught in my throat as I set eyes on someone standing in what looked to be the kitchen. His shirtless back was to me, and I could tell he was tall, with tan skin, tattoos and defined muscles rippling as he moved his arm.

Like a moron, I stood there nervous and scared. As if he sensed my presence, he turned around suddenly. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance.

I knew that face.

Austin. Austin Carlile.

Oh no, not him! This was not happening. I woke up in the lair of the campus whore.

A piece of bread fell out of his mouth as he continued to gape at me. His brown hair was mussed and sticking up everywhere, as if he too just woke up. His chest and stomach were somewhat defined and very naked. There was a counter in front of him that ended just below his waist so I couldn’t see if he was wearing anything underneath.

Please, God, let him be wearing something down there.

And then, he grinned. As if he had all the time in the world, his eyes leisurely traveled from the top of hair down to my toes, then went back to my face. I could swear I felt my toes tingle.

“Hey, baby, you look like you’ve had a bust night,” he drawled.

Oh, God.

“Did we… did you..?” I was stuttering, and in defense, I crossed my arms to hide my chest from his lascivious gaze.

One dark lifted as he waited for me to finish my question. My mouth felt dry and my head was starting to throb. I looked down at my naked feet and wondered where I put my shoes. Silly, silly girl.

“Just tell me.”

“Tell you what exactly?” His eyes were laughing at me, dimples popping out. He knew exactly what I was talking about, but he seemed to find joy in torturing innocent people. Jerk.

When he stepped forward, I moved a step back and yelled, “Stay away from me!”

He frowned, holding his hands up. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I frantically searched for a weapon close by just in case he decided to attack me. “Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?”

I had a sudden urge to pull my hair. “Remember what?”

His face darkened as if he was thinking of something unpleasant. “Some pervert nearly took you and possibly raped you last night. I saved you.”

My mouth hung open.

“And you threw up all over my car.” He paused. “Twice.”

“R-raped me?” My memories were hazy but I remembered resisting a guy’s advances. What if it was him?

He nodded, still staring at me intently. The way his brown eyes were looking at me triggered a memory. A low, masculine voice murmuring. I’ve been looking for you my whole life… I shook my head to clear it and glared at him. “How do I know you’re not that guy?”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have to force a girl to sleep with me.”

He leaned back against a butcher’s block and crossed his arms across his tattooed chest, studying me with his head tilted to the side. The muscles in his arms bunched.

Gratefulness stirred in my chest, and guilt for throwing up in his car. “Thank you,” I said quietly, but I was still suspicious. When you grew up in a rough area, suspicion came naturally to you, and I was no different. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”

“You were drunk,” he provided.

“I think I remember that part.”

“And you’re not hung over?”

I shook my head no.

“Amazing,” he said, sounding impressed.

“Look, if you don’t mind giving my shoes back, I can get out your way.”

“Not so fast.”

“What?” A lamp sat on a table five feet away that I could use in case he decided to grab me.

“You threw up all over my car and I just got it.”

Oh. I bit my lip. “Isn’t your dad rich?” I gestured to the room uselessly, at the luxury around us. “Can’t you just have somebody clean it for you?”

His eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re going to have someone else clean up your mess?

I clenched my teeth. “What do you want from me?”

He jumped on the counter and sat on it, his full glorious body displayed for me. I gulped. At least he was wearing sweatpants.

“Do you have anywhere to go when you leave my place?” There was a basket filled with apples on the counter beside him. He reached for one. How fortunate was he to reach for food whenever he wanted. He didn’t have to fear going hungry… or homeless.

“What kind of question is that? I’m going home.” Where was home? I had no clue, but he didn’t know that.

He the apple in the air, caught it, threw it up again. “And where is that?”

I felt my stomach quietly growl from hunger. “It’s none of your business.”

“Well, I saved your life. I believe in conserving energy so I just want to make sure you don’t waste mine. I asked you last night where you live and you told me you’re homeless. Frankly, right now, you look like someone just stole your last dollar.”

My mouth opened in shock.

“You heard me,” he stated, placing the apple back in the basket and crossing his arms again.
“Why do you care?” I demanded.

It was a moment before he answered. “Do you really have somewhere to go?” The mild and sympathetic tone did it. I felt my eyes tear up. I could tell he was uncomfortable with my display. He jumped off the counter and went to open the fridge.

“Here,” he said quietly, handing me a bottled water. I tried to say thank you but I felt choked up. When I looked up, he was backing away from me. “You know that you stink, right?”

I laughed. I laughed so hard that I needed to sit on the floor to prevent from falling on my face. And then I started crying. He must think I was insane.

“Why don’t you stay here for a bit until you find an apartment?”

Notes

with love,
shadow