“You were drugged.”
There’s a long stretch of silence as Danika processes my words. I’m sure she’s trying her hardest to remember the night. If our kiss is even on her radar, I’d bet she’s also trying to determine if that was why she did it. “How?”
“Rachel tricked you into drinking a spiked drink, but it was Melody’s idea.”
Tears pull in Danika’s eyes as she rolls onto the pillow. Her sobs aren’t violent like I expect. They’re soft, like that of someone who has been through this before. My heart squeezes at the thought and I hope that I’m wrong.
“Hey, hey,” I tell her, rubbing small circles on her back. “It’s okay.”
Danika sniffles and peeks over the pillow at me. “How is it okay? How is any of this okay, Logan? I—” But before she can finish her sentence, she crawls to the side of the bed and throws up again.
When she collapses on the mattress I say, “I’ll be right back.”
I leave her in my room, lights off, and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way back I grab a rag and wet it in the bathroom sink for her head. The thought of grabbing crackers crosses my mind but I doubt she’s hungry.
When I get back into the room, Danika is out cold again. I set the water on the bedside table and place the rag over her head. This whole situation sucks. I’d turned last night around and then fucking Gunner and Melody had to go and ruin it. I should be mad at Rachel too. After all, she was the one who actually drugged Danika, but if she hadn’t told us what was going on Danika would be a lot worse off. So, I guess she’s somewhat pardoned.
Danika’s phone dings for the hundredth time. Her dad has left a million messages. By the looks of things, she wasn’t supposed to be out all night.
No one has ever worried about me the way he does her. I remember the first weekend I stayed out and didn’t tell anyone where I was. I expected to get my ass reamed when I came home that Monday, but it was like my parents didn’t even notice I was gone.
I was twelve.
Fucking twelve!
When I finally did make it home, the only thing Mom was pissed about was that I didn’t take the trash out that morning and we missed the pickup. I should go next door and tell Mr. Winters what happened. He’s a caring parent, unlike mine.
With a heavy hand I knock on the mahogany door at 202 Willow Street. My knuckles beat against the grain with equal parts determination and fear. I can do this.
Mr. Winters peers at me through the windowpanes with a curious eye. He opens the door, hands on his hips, an amused yet cautious grin on his lips. “Tell me why you’re at my door, and where my daughter is.”
29
Logan
“I…” My voice cracks. I clear my throat pushing down the nerves creating a knot inside me. I stand up straighter and roll my shoulders back. I’ve never had a girlfriend and even though Danika and I aren’t there yet, seeing Mr. Winters today feels a heck of a lot different than it did last night. All of this is new territory for me and on top of it; I have to be the bearer of bad news. “I saw your texts to Danika and wanted to inform you she’s okay.”
Mr. Winters steps onto the welcome mat, forcing me back a step. He’s a lot more intimidating this morning too, but I get it. We’re talking about Danika. “And how do you know about my texts?”
“Because I saw her phone.”
Mr. Winters lips press together in a firm line. His patience with me grows thin, as does most adults sooner or later. “Logan, I’m going to ask this as nicely as possible but please don’t mistake my docile manner for weakness. I will end you if I have to.”
I swallow hard, feeling the severity in his words. I’m not a pussy by any means, but something about Mr. Winters tells me he knows no one would notice if I disappear, let alone care. I might not be a parent, but the urge to protect Danika from everyone and everything at times is consuming. I can only imagine how strong that feeling must be for him. “Why do you have my daughter's phone?”
I take a deep breath, wanting to get all of this out as fast as possible. “Because some asshats drugged Danika last night and her friend Sarah and I saved her before anything bad could happen so she’s sleeping it off in my room but she’s throwing up a lot and I’m worried because I don’t know what’s normal and what’s not when it comes to roofies because I’ve never drugged anyone before and swear I don’t plan on it.”
“Damnit Logan you should have led with that.” Mr. Winters pushes past me and runs across his front yard to mine. Without waiting for me to catch up, he pushes the door open and walks into my house. “Danika!”
“She’s this way.” I lead him to my room, ignoring a nosey Piper peeking through a crack in her door. It’s the first I’ve seen of Piper since she got home. I need to check on her and apologize for not going to the hospital. But right now, Danika comes first.
“Shit,” Mr. Winters mumbles, kneeling by the bed.
Danika looks like death is knocking at her door. Her olive skin is a sickly yellow color and from the doorway I can see she’s soaked the bed from either sweat, piss, or vomit. Whatever it is, I’ll clean it up. I hope it’s sweat.
Mr. Winters presses two fingers to Danika’s wrist and looks at his watch, the wrinkle between his dark brows growing deeper with each passing second. He pushes his daughter's hair from her face and stares. “Her pulse is strong.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Winters. I’ll take care of her.”