Illegal My Ass

Chapter 45- 'Try to stall him without taking your clothes off.'

Either that or he really was dead.

I pushed myself to my feet, keeping an eye on the ground this time for the other hi-top to ensure I didn’t plunge to the ground again. I hovered over the bed (like the paedophile Uncle) and gently placed two fingers on Drake’s neck to check his pulse. A bit extreme I know but who knows what that idiot digested yesterday or what was in the ‘pretty pink pill’. From the way he is sleeping now it probably contained horse tranquilisers or something.

I felt a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. I turned my head to the little clock by the bed and realised it was just over 3 hours before Nate would finish work and be back, so all I had to do now was sneak back downstairs without waking Drake, make myself some bacon and sit and watch Fresh Prince in my basketball top. Easy.

…Yeah, was about as easy as a catholic girl who didn’t believe in sex before marriage.

As I went to pull my hand away from his neck and sneak back out, I almost had a fucking heart attack because faster than light Drake jumped up, grabbing my wrist and looking ready to attack.

I froze with my eyes wide trying to calm my heartbeat. He was looking up at me dazed obviously from where he had just woken up, but I could tell he must have thought there really was a touchy Uncle in his room or something because he looked seriously ready to kick someone’s ass.

His eyes bore into me and he relaxed as he realised it was me and not Uncle Jerry trying to get in bed with him. I smiled and gave him a nervous laugh.

“Well, this doesn’t look good…” I state still laughing anxiously, realising the next line of thought for him was that I was the creep trying to get a feel while he was asleep.

“I would be worried as to why you’re hovering over me in my sleep half naked, but I feel like I’ve been run over.” He informs me, his voice rough as he spoke.

“That was probable the ‘pretty pink pill’.” I tell him, quoting his exact words.

He closes his eyes and groans, and I stare at him awkwardly.

“Um Drake?”

“Yeah?” he sounds like he’s in actual pain.

“Can you let go of my wrist?” I ask him, and his eyes open as he realises he was still clinging onto my arm like I was about to choke him or grab his balls in his sleep.

He lets go as he realises, and again I realise how fucked up Drake was. That whole looking ready to attack thing a minute ago was definitely some sort of worry from prison. He never mentioned it but I can only imagine how he would be on edge every time he went to sleep, that he didn’t wake up with his cellmate spooning him or something.

Talk about sleeping with one eye open.

“What happened?” Drake asks.

“Well, you turned up at my school yesterday shouting at my headteacher, I told them you were my cousin, took you back to my house where Nate walked in on you using my chest as a pillow case and then we both put you to bed.” I quickly sum up yesterday’s events, leaving out the fact he told me everything and I told Nate everything.

“Nate actually helped me?” Drake asks stunned, and I nod.

“Yep, he was quite the little carer to you.” I tell him with a grin.

“Jesus, I'd have thought he would have been wishing for me to OD in front of him.” Drake mutters, and I shake my head. He didn’t realise how much Nate freaking cared for him, no matter how much even he would deny it.

I was silent after that, not knowing what to say because I didn’t want to say anything that might encourage him to leave, or remind him that he had confessed almost everything last night about why he had turned into an extra from The Godfather because he clearly could not remember anything that happened yesterday.