Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the black dress on the trunk at the foot of my bed. I had an acute memory of downing shot after shot of tequila with Chloe and the boys at her house. I also remembered the self-righteous mood I’d been in as I’d gotten dressed that evening.
Shit! The night clearly hadn’t ended well. But how had I gotten home? Had Chloe helped me? I bit my lip at the thought, aware I’d most likely ruined her evening.
I gingerly swung my legs to the side of the bed. The movement made my head jackhammer. Squinting against the clamor, I pushed the blankets away, then paused, my mouth dropping open. I was only wearing panties, my usual sleep pants and tank nowhere to be seen. Something long swung from around my neck, and I reached out to catch hold of it. It hit my palm with an instantaneous flood of warmth.
I opened my hand and stilled. It was the pendant—Nora’s pendant. The pendant I hadn’t been wearing when I’d gone out last night.
Swallowing hard, I strived to ignore the insistent pounding of my head and reached for the glass I habitually kept on the nightstand. There was a note taped to the side of the glass.
“Drink me.”
A ripple of unease fluttered across my skin. The script didn’t look familiar, but as I stared at that note, I had my suspicions. I didn’t want to voice them, but they blazed in my head like neon signs. Gage Campbell. He was the only one who had a link with the pendant. But had he invited himself into my home, or had I?
My heart hammered to an erratic beat at the thought that he’d entered my little haven of peace and security. Banking the rising panic, realizing that it would do no good in my current position, I considered the drink. It looked clear, just like water. I brought it to my nose and sniffed. It smelled neutral, just like water. Slightly appeased, I tentatively took a sip and held it in my mouth, testing its notes. It tasted just like water. Feeling a bit silly about my caution, I swallowed and then tipped my head back, gulping the whole glass down. The hydration had an immediate soothing effect, and I could have sworn that the pounding in my head instantly muted. As I put the glass back on the nightstand, I felt a frown crease my brow. None of this makes sense.
Realizing I wouldn’t get answers in bed, I rose to my feet and walked to the window. I peeled the curtains back a crack, surprised to see the sun high in the sky, straining to pierce the gray clouds. My mouth dropped. It looked as though it was close to lunchtime! I was habitually an early riser and never slept the morning away.
I turned away from the window, and of my own accord, my hand drifted to the pendant. My fingers closed around it, and I was again surprised at how warm the stone felt.
Holding the stone made me think of Nora. After what had happened between us, I could no longer call her Grandmother, that endearment as farcical as our family ties. She became Nora the day she abandoned me.
Nora had told the police and social welfare that she would stay with me after my parents’ deaths. It was true to an extent, as she hadn’t qualified a timeframe. For the few months she was with me, she helped me organize their funeral, sell the family home, and move into my villa. Unaware of her overall plans, I’d cherished our time together and begun to rely on her presence to be there forever. Then, a few months after she’d arrived, the lawyer had called to settle my parents’ estate.
I hadn’t seen what was coming. I should have—the signs were all there. After that fateful visit with the lawyer, Nora vanished from my life, boarding a plane back to Scotland, and once again, I was alone.
As memories of that betrayal flooded through me, I crushed the pendant in my fist, pushing the hurt down, stuffing it into an airtight box. I’d done my time on this already; I didn’t need to dredge up all those feelings again. Besides, Nora was gone. Dead.
Taking a deep breath, I released the stone. It settled intimately between my bare breasts, heating my chest. My skin tingled, and the hairs rose on my arms. I felt like I was in a fever, blood pumping with a riot of emotion. Chalking it up to my deserved hangover, I turned, looking for my robe and spotted it at the foot of my bed. As I notched the belt tightly, the ringtone of my cell phone pierced the silence. My head instantly rebelled.
Oh God! Holding one hand to my head, I frantically searched for it.
I found it on my vanity, next to my discarded makeup. Chloe’s name flashed on the display. I hesitated, staring at the name. I didn’t want to answer it, didn’t want to find out how I’d ruined my best friend’s evening, but I knew I couldn’t hide from the truth forever. Besides, Chloe wouldn’t let me.
Taking a fortifying breath, I pressed accept.
“Brydie!” yelled Chloe as soon as the call connected. “Where are you? Are you okay? What happened last night?”
She sounded breathless. I held a hand to my forehead, striving to make sense of the flow of chatter.
“Hi, Chloe.”
“I’ve been so worried about you, Bry! I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours!”
“I’m fine, Chloe. I’m at home.”
“You’re at home?!” Chloe blew out a loud breath. “Okay, well, I’m happy to hear that—but I had no idea where you were! I came back to get you at the bar after I rang for the taxi, but you’d gone. Where did you go?”
My stomach dropped. Taxi? Had I been that drunk last night? Shit!
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I wish I could tell you what happened, but I can’t remember much of anything past entering the club.”
“Wait! You seriously can’t remember?”
“No—nothing.” I took a breath, fighting the churning in my stomach. I needed to know. “Chloe, please, what happened last night? What did I do?”
“You were…different, Bry, edgy. At one point, you just took off without telling anyone. Michael spotted you on the dance floor, thankfully, so we knew where you were. But you were away for such a long time; I went looking for you. I found you with some guy at the bar.” She paused, her voice sober as she added, “He was pissed about something, and I could see that whatever you two had going on looked serious.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What did this man look like?”
“Blond, average build. Older than us—maybe mid-thirties.”
I didn’t hear much past blond. That description didn’t fit Gage Campbell. I squeezed my eyes shut, relief loosening my grip on the cell phone. I was sure I’d met him in town last night. That he was the one who brought me home. Otherwise, how else would I have the pendant?
Had he given it to me in town? And if he hadn’t brought me home, who had? Someone I’d randomly picked up from the bar? I cringed, embarrassed by my actions.
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I totally ruined your night.”
“It was just so uncharacteristic of you, Bry. You’ve never done anything like this before. I was worried.” She paused, then asked softly, “Has something happened? Has that asshole been hassling you again?”
“No, no, it’s not James,” I jumped in quickly.
“What is it then?”
I didn’t want to share the news of Nora’s death, but it appeared it was inevitable. Chloe deserved an explanation. I blew out a breath. “You’re right. There is something going on.”
“What? You know you can tell me anything, Bry!”
“I know. I didn’t want to burden you with it before you left.”
“Nonsense, that’s what friends are for! I’d be pissed if you kept something from me. Spill! I deserve to know.”