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Something pushes me to check on her, and when I open the bathroom door, my heart skips a beat.

Still in her clothes on the floor of the shower, she shivers uncontrollably.

Fuckin’ hell!

Reaching in for her, the spray hits me and it’s freezing. She just spent ten minutes in an ice bath.

Turning off the water, I yell, “The fuck is wrong with you?” As if it’s her fault and not mine for leaving a woman who has never used cocaine before to shower alone.

I’m pissed at myself. But I’ll never admit it.

Her lips are blue, her skin ashen, and her wide blue eyes watch me fearfully.

Placing a hand on my hip, I dip my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to calm the fuck down. Then, gently as I can, I reach out for her and say, “C’mon, baby. I gotta get you warm or you’re gonna get sick.”

That’s not a maybe. That’s a definite. But I gotta get her out and she looks scared. She’s having a blow freak-out.

She blinks a moment before reaching out a shaking hand to take mine. I pull her to stand, but she shakes so much she almost looks like she’s having a fit. Reaching for the hem of her dark dress – which is now pasted to her body – I lift it over her head and make quick work of her panties. Taking a big fluffy towel, I wrap her up and walk her out the bathroom and over to my bed.

I sit her on the edge, while I turn on the electric blanket and strip down to nothing.

I’m almost ashamed of myself for being hard, but with Lexi, I can’t help it. It just happens.

Removing the towel from her shivering body, I lie down then pull her down next to me. I wrap my arms around her. My entire body breaks out in goosebumps when her body meets mine.

Dammit. Fuck!

She’s freezing. So damn cold that the front of my body gets a pins-and-needles sensation through it. My arms tighten around her, knowing this is my fault; I accept the pain of her near-frozen body on mine. Punishment to myself, if you will. The electric blanket works quickly, and I rub her arms and back for a few minutes before her body stops shivering. Her teeth are still chattering when she asks, “Why didn’t you come for me? I was calling you.”

My chest feels like a bullet just went through it.

Feeling guilty as fuck, I respond quietly, “I didn’t hear you, baby.”

She buries her cold nose into my neck and whispers, “I called and called, but you didn’t come.”

If I had a heart, it would break.

Then I do something that even shocks me. Rubbing her back, I issue the first apology of my life. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve been watching you.”

She doesn’t respond, but her teeth chatter and she nods into my neck.

The childlike move pierces me like a knife to the side. I’m suddenly protective of Lexi.

What a load of shit.

Protective of the woman I had hurt myself.

I’m a fuckwit. Seriously.

Damaged doesn’t even begin to cover what I am. I don’t think a word has been invented for the level of fucked up I am.

The feel of Lexi’s body slumping so suddenly into mine makes me jump. Gripping her arms tightly, I search her lifeless face and shake her hard. “Lexi! Fuck!”

When her eyes pop open and her eyes widen in fright, my heart begins to beat again. She asks, “What?”

I thought you were unconscious and it scared the shit out of me.

Shaking my head, I swallow hard. “Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep. I won’t wake you again. Promise.”

She buries her still-cold face into my neck and sighs.

My jaw tics.

Should’ve never brought her here.

Subconsciously, my arms tighten around her, defying my mind’s statement.

Waking in pitch black with a pounding head, a sore throat, and a boiling belly, I jump upright and bolt off of the bed towards the bathroom. Struggling with the door handle, my body begins to heave when a hand reaches past me to open the door. Once inside, I throw my shaking body over to the toilet bowl and let out the contents of my stomach.

Which is a serious shame.

I loved every morsel I ate at dinner last night.

Groaning into the acrylic toilet seat, something heavy covers my body, but I’m so hot right now, I shrug it off. A sleepy, “Keep it on, Angel,” comes from my left.

Eyes closed, I frown, “Too hot.”

A cool hand on my forehead makes me sigh happily. That is, until I hear, “Shit, Lexi. You’re burning up.”

And that’s the last thing I remember before I doze off, head firmly fixed on the toilet seat.

I know the exact moment Lexi passes out because the arms hugging the toilet bowl fall limp to the sides, her face smooshed into the toilet seat. The sweet sound of her steady breathing is the only thing that calms me at the moment.

Leaving her where she rests, I walk over to the nightstand, fetch my cell, and call Happy. At 3:57am.

He answers half asleep, “You better have a good reason, motherfucker.”

Ignoring his frustration, I quickly tell him, “I need the number for the doctor.”

Silence. Then accusingly, “What did you do?”

I bark back, “I’m gonna ignore your tone and that fuckin’ statement and ask you one more time.”

He immediately backtracks, “Don’t be like that, bro. I’m sorry, alright? What did you expect I’d think, calling me this time of night, sounding like you’re in trouble?”

I don’t blame him. Really, I don’t. I know he’s got reasons to think the worst of me. The guy’s been at the receiving end of my fists for little to no reason at all. And he’s one of my best friends.

Running a hand over my face, I tell him, “It’s Lexi. Ling let her have two fuckin’ lines last night. I left her to shower and came back to find her sitting on the tiles under freezing water. So I don’t know if she’s sick, or just having a reaction to the coke. She’s…not good.”

His voice softens, “Let me handle it, man. Go sit with her. We’ll be there soon.”

I say, “Thanks, bro.” What I don’t say is, “I owe you one.

But we both know that’s a given.

The doctor looks over Lexi’s unconscious and sweating body, now covered in one of my tees, umming and ahhing for close to ten minutes. Feeling her glands, peering into her eyes with a light, taking her temperature four times over the course of minutes. It’s safe to say, I’m panicked.

If it were anyone else but her…

Pushing the thought out of my head, I watch him closely. I don’t like his hands on her. All over her. This is how ridiculous I am. I know he’s a doctor. I know he’s here to help. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to take his head off at the sight of his hands on her body.

On my body. She is mine. She belongs to me.

For a second, I worry myself with thoughts that I’ve taken things with Lexi too far. For a second, I tell myself to break all ties with her. For a second, I wonder if I’m in too deep here.

For a second.

The doctor, a tall and fit middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, comes to stand by my side. Squirting hand sanitizer into his palm, he rubs his hands together. “So you say she’s never done drugs before, then decided to do weed and cocaine all in one night?” His brow furrows. He doesn’t believe a word I say.