Dedicated to 'ChocolateThunderr' for her simple, yet inspiring comment. She said that she could feel "the drugged effect", and then used the word 'disorientated' and I just HAD to include it into the story - what a perfect adjective. Thank you!-
-Ah, approaching the end. We are getting close now. See if you can put all the pieces together, haha. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's still being edited - I apologize for the shortness.-
Chapter Fifteen
“Don’t lie to me.” He pulls his hands back and hisses – almost got it... “Who’s here?”
“It’s just us.” Valerie looks away, quickly.
Cole glances at her with sharp, suspicious eyes, squinting them up at her guilty face. He watches her curse silently to herself; she mouths something to her chest with a vicious tone.
“You’re lying.” He finally says - he doesn’t believe her.
“No, I’m not.”
“I can tell, remember.” Cole says, knowingly, rubbing a little harder, feeling his hands getting looser.
“Oh yeah?” She scoffs.
“You can never look at me when you do. You keep your eyes low, maybe even shut,” She looks up at this, “Or to the ground.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is and you know it.” He smirks, finally gaining the upper hand. It feels good to be in control of the conversation; in fact, it feels amazing.
What a night.
This wasn’t how he imagined going into the New Year. He didn’t imagine that he would be pleading for his life or subjected to torture. He didn’t know that he’d be held prisoner in this freezing, wooden chair, scraping flesh from two weak, bloody hands, even for the smallest chance of escape.
He knew exactly who he had wanted to spend it with, then, and he knows it now...
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“Let’s go out tonight.”
She ponders over it, as he wraps his arms around her and rocks her, “Ah...I-I don’t really.... feel like it.”
“Come on,” He rocks her from side to side, even slower, soothing her, caressing her, “It’s Friday.”
“Cole...” She tries, but he has moved from rubbing her shoulders to placing delicate kisses on her neck.
“You know, the night is young,” He whispers into her, “We could head into town. We could do...anything.”
He rubs his eyes, checking his watch; how long have we been here?
It’s like he had just zoned out. He remembers driving and coming into the bar, but wiping the drool from his mouth, and looking around at the packed place, he realises that he must’ve fallen asleep at the counter.
How long have I been asleep?
“Gwen?” This is the first thing he thinks to do. Unmistakably, no reply. The bar is completely bursting with life and energy. There is no way that he could find her in all this madness. The music and chatter pounds and bangs on Cole’s ears until he feels they are ready to explode. It’s too difficult to hear anybody else, or even to hear your own thoughts. Plus a raging headache doesn’t make things any better.
What happened?
It was unlike him to fall asleep when he was out on the town, and especially with Gwen. In fact, he’d never done this before.
Disoriented, his head fell back. He shut his eyes tight and threw it forward, trying to wake himself up.
If he didn’t know any better, Cole would’ve suspected being drugged.
Nah... I’d know. He concludes; But where’s Gwen?
Suddenly, out of the blue, “Hey! Imagine seeing you here!” He feels a gloved hand on his shoulder and smiles warmly at the recognizable face,
“Oh, hey Natalie.”
“You look terrible.” She giggles.
“Thanks.”
“So what’re you guys doing here?”
He turns around; no one, apart from a couple of men in suits he didn’t know and an attractive woman in a long, black gown, whose sleek body held every man’s attention.
Who’s ‘you guys’?
“Who?” He voices.
“I...Er, just assumed you were with Gwen.” Natalie orders two shots for the pair of them, sliding up onto the barstool. Cole objects at first, his head throbbing, but she convinces him and wins him over.
“Oh... Sure. She’s...Well, I don’t know.” He rubs his aching head.
“What’s up? Headache?” Natalie grins, tapping to the music.
“Yeah.” He sighs, as the bartender slides up the shots. Then, taking it in his weak hand, he drinks it all in one, loud gulp. He hisses immediately after, the nasty alcohol still burning his tongue and throat.
What’s wrong with me?
Cole tries to shake it off, jumping off of the barstool but finds that he can’t even stand.
“You okay?” Natalie queries, supporting his weight by holding an unsteady arm.
“I’m fine.” He slurs. When did I start slurring? Why is everything so numb? So many thoughts and questions race around his mind that it starts to make him unbalanced and uneasy.
He staggers across the bar, while Natalie supports him. Without realising, he stamps onto a woman’s dark dress,
“Get off!” She yells, but he is too late. The material rips and in tugging it, the woman’s hand swings back and she hits herself in the face, smudging some of her makeup.
She lets out a growl.
“Now.” To Natalie.