Page 51 of Fame & Chaos

I lean across and pull the belt properly over her body, clicking it into place.

“Wow,” she whispers in awe. “You’re like… a magician.”

“Yeah, incredible talent.”

I pull out of the parking space before glancing sideways at her. “How much did you drink?”

She shrugs lazily, then her entire expression changes.

The color drains from her face instantly.

Ah, fuck.

“Nope,” I say. “Absolutely not. You are not throwing up in my car.” I slam the car into park before racing around to her side. The second I yank the door open, she gags violently. “Annie, lean forward.”

She practically falls halfway out of the car before vomiting all over the pavement.

I throw my hands into the air. “Jesus Christ.”

At least it missed the interior.

Small victories.

She keeps throwing up while I stand there uselessly watching her empty her stomach onto the ground. When she finally stops, she groans miserably. “I don’t feel good anymore.”

“No shit.”

I walk around to the boot and grab one of the bottled waters I keep stocked in there, mainly because post-sex dehydration is a real problem.

“Drink this.”

She takes the bottle weakly, sipping while leaning against the seat, looking pale and sweaty.

Yeah.

Hospital.

Definitely hospital.

“Think you’re gonna throw up again?” I ask cautiously.

She shakes her head slowly and closes her eyes, and within seconds, she’s half asleep.

I stare at her for a moment while shutting her door gently. Something about this feels off.

Annie partying? Sure.

Annie drinking herself unconscious? Not so much.

Usually, there’s a reason behind behavior like this, especially with her. But right now, getting answers can wait until she’s conscious enough to speak English. “Okay, I’m buckling you in.” I buckle her back in properly before getting into the driver’s seat and heading toward the nearest emergency room. The whole drive there, I keep glancing sideways at her to make sure she’s still breathing normally.

Every so often she mumbles something in her sleep.

Mostly Aston’s name.

Interesting.

I pull into emergency parking and jump out before rushing around to lift her from the car again. Carrying a limp seventeen-year-old isn’t nearly as easy as movies make it look.