“Motherfucker,” Link barks, scaring the shit out of me.
“What? What are you—” My words are cut off on a gasp as reality hits me. “No,” I bark. “No. Tell me he didn’t.”
“Sorry, Shorty. He did.”
“Fuck.” That arsehole chipped me like a fucking dog. “That’s how he found the hotel.”
“Yep. Surprised it took him as long as it did.”
“Get it out of me. Get it out of me right now.”
“Emmie, I’m not sure that’s—”
“Get it the fuck out of me, or I’ll figure out a way to do it myself,” I demand, starting to feel myself losing grip on reality. “He’ll be here. He might already be here. We need to get this out and leave. Now.”
“I know. Fuck. Sit backward on that chair. I’ll be back.”
He rushes out of the room and I quickly do as I’m told, straddling his fancy-pants computer chair.
My hands tremble as I pull my hair over one shoulder, trying to mentally prepare myself for what Link is going to have to do.
My stomach rolls as I think about the fact that there’s something lodged in my neck that allows him to find me wherever I am.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Emmie,” I mutter to myself.
Why didn’t I even consider that this was the kind of obsessive, fucked-up thing he’d do?
It’s so fucking obvious now I know.
“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” Link says, walking back into the room with a scalpel and a wad of tissue in his hand.
“Why do I get the impression that this isn’t your first time doing this?”
“Because it’s not. You might be shocked to hear that your darling husband isn’t the only possessive male out there.”
“Do you have a club?” I deadpan, resting my forehead on my arm to give him the access I can only assume he needs to my neck.
I flinch when his fingertip touches my skin.
“Yep, right there.”
“How don’t I know?”
“It’s tiny. There’s no reason you’d feel it back here.”
“It must have hurt going in.”
“If you were conscious, yeah. Few drinks in you, probably not so much. I’m guessing I’d be naïve to think you’ve always been sober around him.”
I think back for a few seconds before I sit bolt upright.
“Fucking arsehole. He did this the night I was drugged.”
“W-wait. He drugged you?” Link asks.
“Theo didn’t, no. Well, not that night. Long story,” I say, shaking my head as the hazy events of that party and what followed come back to me. “Some stupid jealous bitch from school spiked my drink at a party. Theo actually looked after me. He took me home, made sure I was okay…
“I remember waking up the next morning aching like a bitch. Everything hurt. My neck hurt.”