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"So…" Cade starts. "What did you think of last night?"
"Want to be more specific? When you branded us like fucking cattle, or when you drugged us… again?"
He waves me off as if the last part is nothing. "We were just celebrating. Enjoying ourselves. You can't be mad about that. Alex sure isn't." He nods his chin toward my friend. "Feeling nice and… sated this morning, Rexford?" He smirks.
Alex growls in frustration. I can only imagine how he feels about Cade and his posse knowing the exact details when he has no memory of them. The sick motherfuckers probably watched.
"Come, eat, you must be starved." But as he says this, his eyes lock on mine.
My stomach twists, and the alcohol that's still in my system threatens to make an appearance.
Does he know?
Does he know what I did—who I did—last night?
Fuck.
My hands tremble. If he knows, then there's no way she's not in danger. That motherfucker is deranged, and he's staring at me as if he knows all my secrets.
My heart continues to thunder in my chest as Ashton takes one of the empty chairs beside me. "Good lay, right, Easton?"
Bile rushes up my throat.
Has he been fucking her this whole time? Was all of this a game? Has she been lying to me? Playing me?
I can barely breathe as images of my time with Mia flash through my mind.
Every confession, every touch, every promise.
Were they all lies?
"Sir, I hope you enjoy."
A plate of food is lowered to the table before me, but I can't even think about eating it.
Feeling eyes drilling into the top of my head, I look up. Cade's wearing a shit-eating grin on his face, as if he knows something I don't.
Who am I kidding? He knows a lot of shit I don't.
"How much do you remember about last night, Easton?" Ashton asks, earning himself a scowl from the devil.
"It was a great night," I say with the fakest smile I can muster while the memories of having Mia in my arms refuse to leave my head.
"Oh yeah, I've heard all good things about that one," he mutters with a smirk.
My fists curl under the table. He's lying. He knows nothing about her.
I'm the only one she's been with… right?
"Eat," Cade demands.
Alex immediately picks up his silverware, probably ravenous after his exploits with an unknown girl last night.
I do the same, but I'm hesitant to eat anything because that motherfucker has history when it comes to spiking our shit, and I'd rather keep a clear head right now—at least until I figure out what the nagging at the edges of my mind is about.
It's like when you wake up and you know there was a dream, but you can't quite grasp it.
What am I missing?
