The Wild Side (The Wild Side 1)

It took me a while, but I did place it.

She’d been disappointed.

In me.  As though she’d expected better from me than how I’d acted.

I didn’t like myself very much just then.

Finally, I made myself leave, but it was far from easy, and the last thing I wanted to do.

It was a hellish day of waiting and worrying.  I tried to work, but it was no good.  I tried to watch TV, and even found myself watching some bad reality shows that seemed right up her alley, but I didn’t stay distracted for long.

I went grocery shopping, then came home and made an elaborate dinner for myself.  I made enough for Iris, still holding out hope that she’d just show up.

She didn’t.

I went to bed at eight and then tossed and turned for hours.  I must have fallen into a fitful sleep, because my phone woke me up when it started ringing at around three a.m.

“Hello,” I mumbled, mind still waking.

“Dair,” Iris spoke into my ear, her tone so different, so wrong, that my whole body tightened up with that one word.

“Iris, where are you?” I asked.

I was on my back, phone to my ear.  I could see my chest expanding with a deep breath at the bottom of my vision as I waited for her to answer.

“I’m at a…party.  I don’t feel well, Dair, and I need a ride.”

I sat up.  “I’ll be there right away.  Do you have a street number, or some directions to where you are?”

I moved to my closet and pulled on a pair of sweatpants one-handed while she named off an address.  “Okay, honey, I’m on my way.”

“Wait!” she said, still sounding wrong.  “Stay on the phone with me.  Talk to me.  I need to stay awake.”

I was already in my car, typing the address into my GPS system.  “What’s going on?  You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I had a drink, and it’s not agreeing with me.”

“What kind of a drink?”

“A cocktail.  I don’t know what was in it.  It was orange.  And I think somebody slipped something into it.”

I felt my rare temper starting to boil up.  “Can you go out front and wait for me?  Will that be safer for you or worse?”

I couldn’t hear much on her end but loud background noise for a while, and I was more than a little concerned that she’d passed out, but finally, mercifully, she responded, “I’m out front.  Are you close?  I’m really out of it, Dair.  I can’t think straight.  It scares me.”

I cursed and sped up.  “I am five minutes away.  Just hold on.  I’ve got you.  I’ll take care of you, honey.”

The location was a large warehouse on the darkened street across the freeway from the strip.  The place was packed, neon paint covered partygoers loitering outside and walking in the street to the point that I had to honk at several stoned kids just to park on the curb out front.

Even with all of the young painted punks around, though, I had no trouble finding her.  She would always stand out.

She was wearing some tiny white shorts and a white string bikini top, or at least, I thought they’d started out white.  She was covered head to toe in all sorts of neon, some of powder, some of paint.  Even her hair, pulled up into a high ponytail, was more pink than blonde, at the moment.

She was standing, swaying on her feet, as though she was afraid to sit down.

I rushed up to her, pulling her against me, but even then, she barely seemed to see me, truly out of it.

“Let’s go home, honey,” I told her, taking her large bag off her shoulder, putting it on mine, guiding her to my car with an arm around her waist.

My voice, or my movements, seemed to take her out of her daze a bit.  She pushed her body into the front of mine, her arms going around my neck, br**sts rubbing into my chest.  Even at that contact, I wasn’t turned on.  I was too worried to get hard.  I didn’t like the state I’d found her in.

“You came for me.  Thank you.”

I just grunted and started herding her to the car again.  She went easily enough.

I’d driven my dark gray TT, because it was fast and easy to maneuver.

The car was barely used, and she was getting neon body paint all over the passenger seat.  I didn’t give it a second thought, couldn’t have cared less.  The only thing I cared about just then was getting her home safely.

She didn’t pass out right away, shifting restlessly as I started to drive, reclining her seat.

In a gesture of pure affectionate comfort, one that she had taught me, I put my hand on her knee and squeezed.

She took it completely the wrong way, parting her legs, and pushing my hand up into the pant of her tiny shorts, rubbing my knuckles against her pu**y.

Surprised, I jerked my hand away, sending her a shocked look.

She gave me a doped up looking smile, reaching up to untie her bikini.  She was topless in a flash, fondling herself with one hand, and pulling my fingers back to her pu**y with the other.

I pulled away again gently, looking back at the road.

She was nearly naked, her luscious body covered in some intriguing paint, and I wasn’t even tempted.  She was just too out of it.  God only knew what had been slipped into her drink.

“You’re not yourself,” I told her.  “We need to get you home, get some food and water in you, and let you sleep this off.”