Like You Hurt: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 2) by Kaydence Snow

Author:Kaydence Snow [Snow, Kaydence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sonder Publishing Pty Ltd
Published: 2020-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Donna

I wasn’t sure if the pounding in my head had woken me or if waking up had caused the pounding. All I knew was that I felt like shit.

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut and mushing my face farther into the pillow. My stomach felt as if it were doing somersaults while twirling my intestines into a knot. I was so fucking hungover that—

My eyes flew open, immediately making me wince against the light, but I had bigger problems. There was no way I could be hungover, because I hadn’t been drinking last night. I never drank or did drugs when I went to Davey’s.

Panic clawed at my throat as I forced myself to look around. The sheets were gray, the desk under the window cluttered, a TV sat in the corner. This wasn’t my room.

Where the hell was I?

How did I get here?

What happened to me?

Fighting the bile rising up my throat, I lifted myself into a sitting position and couldn’t help groaning again. I’d never felt this crap before—not even when I had the flu last year. And that was so bad the doctors nearly put me on IV fluids.

The fact that I had no idea where I was or any memory of how I got there was beyond disturbing. I wasn’t an idiot—I knew what happened to girls in shady bars sometimes. It was why I went there—the danger of the maybe. I just never thought I’d actually end up . . . oh god. I sucked in several deep breaths, fighting for air through the panic and the nausea and the hot tears pricking my eyes.

Was I raped?

I swallowed a sob and, with shaky hands, pushed the comforter and tangled sheets off myself completely. I was still in my leopard-print dress, my thong still in place. The only things missing were my shoes, but I spied them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

I shifted my legs. I didn’t feel sore between them, but would I? If I was out and didn’t fight it . . .

The room spun, bringing on another wave of nausea, and I lowered myself back to the pillow with a pathetic half sob, half whimper.

I had to get the fuck out of there, but I couldn’t even get my body to stand.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to take deep breaths through the churning in my stomach and the pounding in my head. I needed to get my shit together and get up.

My eyes flew open again at the sound of the door opening, but the only movement I could force my body into was rolling onto my back and turning my head to look.

“Hendrix?”

He was barefoot, in sweats and a T-shirt that was baggy even on his broad, muscular frame. One of his hands clutched a bright pink mug.

“Oh. Hey. You’re up.” I’d never seen the asshole look so uncertain. His eyes flicked about the room, not staying on me too long. “How . . . uh .

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