phone call.
I went back to focusing on my serenity for the next several hours.
7
HANGOVER
I woke up the following morning with a splitting headache. The sun beamed right
in my eyes, forcing me to turn on my side with a groan and pull the sheet up to
cover my entire head from the light. But then the sound of the blender flooded my
ears with a loud grinding noise and my irritation became too much to resist.
“Hey, turn that shit off!” I shouted at Ginsby, yanking the sheet off my face to
yell at her. But as she ignored me, my eyes traveled to an angry looking Darren
sitting at my table, watching me with that disapproving look. The blender then
stopped. “Oh, forget this. I’m going back to bed,” I whined then pulled the sheet
back over my head and curled into myself.
I could hear Darren’s furious footsteps as he marched over to me and ripped the
sheet from my body. “Get up,” he commanded, but I just curled tighter into myself,
groaning with agitation. “Get up, Jaden!” he roared over me, and I flinched
instinctively before slowly unraveling myself, my eyes trained only on him, afraid
he might move me himself. When I was finally sitting upright, he visibly relaxed,
but his eyes were still as cold as ever. “We need to have a little talk, you and me.”
I sighed, pulling my knees up to rest my elbows on my thighs and rub my face
awake. “I’m too hungover for this. What do you want to talk about?”
“Sobering you up. Go take a shower and meet me on the patio for lunch in thirty
minutes.”
Lunch?
“Wait, what time is it?” I asked, groggy.
“Twelve thirty. Now, get up,” he ordered.
“Yes, Heir Hitler,” I said with a salute.
Darren ignored my humor and walked out of the room, his phone immediately
seeking his ear. Shit, had I really slept that late? It certainly felt like it.
“Good morning, dear,” Ginsby said with a smile, walking over to me hopefully
with my hangover cure. “Or should I say good afternoon? Here, drink this. It’ll take
away that nasty hangover.”
“Thanks,” I said and accepted the cup.
“You know you shouldn’t be drinking with the amount of medication you’re on,
sweetheart. It could cause serious complications to your health. Don’t you want to
get better?”
I sighed heavily as I took a sip of what she gave me. Fuck, it was delicious.
“I know, Ginsby. I had a momentary lack of self-control. I doubt it will happen
again.”
I was sure Darren would see to that.
“I certainly hope so,” she said nervously. “We only want what’s best for your
health, dear.”
“I know,” I said with a nod and focused on finishing my hangover cure.
Once I had showered and changed into a black cotton sundress, Hank and some
other guard I had never seen before escorted me. This one was blond and maybe a
head shorter than Darren; a little older, too. Where was Benito?
I looked up at Hank as I walked through the hall. “What happened to Benito?” I
asked.
Hank didn’t respond; he didn’t even look my way. Neither did Blondie.
Whatever.
My headache was slowly subsiding, thanks to my pain meds, but my body still
felt like shit. My jaw and stomach were sore from all the rapping and retching I did
last night. I still couldn’t believe I did all that in front of Darren. I hadn’t
anticipated him for another day, but I had obviously done a fantastic job at getting
myself totally wasted in less than thirty minutes. Otherwise, I would have probably
been terrified out of my mind. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d gotten
drunk like that, much less had a sip of hard liquor.
Oh, wait. I do remember. And the ending wasn’t very pretty for me then either.
What a sight I must have been. Had I been sober, things probably would have
ended very differently. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have snuck out at all if I had
known Darren was back. Fuck.
I wondered if Darren enjoyed my little performance. Probably not. I was sure he
was pissed with my recent behavior and the fact that I had snuck away from my
guards. If anything, I was just showing him their weak spots. He should really be
thanking me. Maybe that was what he wanted to discuss.
The patio was on the east side of the house and, of course, faced the ocean. The
roof covered the entire span of the patio area, with large dark brown pillars to
support it. The ground was an array of different orange-colored bricks laid out in a
swirl pattern while large green ferns decorated each corner. There was a long glass
table fit to sit eight people in the middle with bronze chairs all around it. Soft patio
furniture strategically scattered around here and there, and a small fireplace
centered between it all.
I sat down at Darren’s usual right while he read something on a tablet in his
hands; he ignored my entrance completely until he was finished with his business.
He was dressed casually today; a white dress shirt, buttons undone at the top,
sleeves rolled to the
