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Tainted Kiss (Tainted Knights 1)

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Cool hands touched my back, but I couldn’t focus on who had come to check on me. I should have been empty by now, but it only continued to force its way out of me.

A damp washcloth was pressed to my face, a soothing voice speaking softly as Jenna moved around, taking care of me. I wanted to yell at them to go away, but at the same time, no one had taken care of me like this since my dad when I’d had the flu right before that last deployment.

As always, thinking of my dad brought tears to my eyes. In that moment, I was weak from being sick, and from just having my heart pulled from my chest at that damn picture. It all collided together at once, and I couldn’t stop the meltdown that took me prisoner.

I crumbled to my knees, my hand slipping in the puddle of vomit, and I almost fell into it as I howled with pain. My stomach was cramping like crazy, but my heart was twisting like someone was wringing it with both hands.

Jenna helped me sit down on my rear, wiped my hand clean of the vomit, then got a fresh cloth for my face. “Is this because of Kale? Did you make yourself sick over him?” She shook her head. At least, I thought she did. The world was starting to grow dim around the edges, and I was still crying, so my vision was even more blurred. “No one is worth doing this to your body.”

“Screw Kale.” Right then, I couldn’t have cared less if he was fucking the skank twins or half the country. He could do what he wanted. I didn’t have a say in what he did or with whom. He didn’t love me.

Even if I did love him.

That small truth had dug its way free from my heart, making the tears pour faster.

I vaguely heard someone else tap on the bathroom door. “Jen?”

“Not now, Angie.”

“Hell.” There was a pause, then, “Yeah, she’s throwing up, too. Okay. You’re sure?”

The washcloth Jenna was using to wipe across my sweaty brow stopped. “Who’s on the phone?”

“Oh, just the bride’s mother from yesterday’s wedding where Santana was working.” Angie crouched down in front of me. “Hey, sweetie … Santana? Hey.” She cupped my face, lifting it so I was looking at her. “Did you eat the food at the reception last night?”

I tried to blink the tears out of my eyes, tried to focus on Angie’s face, but she was one big blur to me.

Reception? I blanked for a second before the question actually made sense.

“Yeah.” I tried to think back to what I had eaten. “I can’t remember what I ate. I was working. I just stuffed anything I could in my mouth whenever I had a few minutes.”

“Okie-dokie then, buttercup. Looks like you get a one-way ticket to the emergency room.” Angie stood and spoke back into the phone. “Tell the doctors to make room for one more. She seems out of it on top of the vomiting.”

“What’s going on?” Jenna demanded, going back to wiping my face with the blessedly cool cloth.

I leaned into the touch, wishing it was colder. It didn’t ease the agonizing cramps, though.

“Over half the guests from the wedding have severe food poisoning, including the bride and groom. Vomiting, disorientation, and a small list of other fun things that won’t be fun cl

eaning up.”

With Angie’s help, they practically carried me over to the shower. I didn’t protest when they started taking my clothes off. I was helpless, something I hated feeling more than anything else in the world, and it made the tears fall again.

I heard the water turn on, but must have zoned out until they were holding me under the spray. The cramps were so painful they left me bent in half, holding my stomach and silently praying for relief.

“Hangovers suck,” I muttered as they started to dry me a few minutes later. “But I didn’t drink last night.” Right? I couldn’t remember drinking.

“No, sweetie. You ate some bad food,” Angie tried to explain in a kind voice. “We’re going to take you to the doctor now and get you all better.”

“Holy shit.”

I thought it was Kin standing in the bathroom doorway now, but even though the tears had stopped, I couldn’t really make her out. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and she became a little clearer.

“Is this some weird threesome or is she sick?”

“Food poisoning,” Jenna barked at her, trying to brush my wet hair back.

My head felt heavy on my shoulders, and it kept leaning to the left. But she had the patience of a saint because she didn’t complain and kept working the brush through the long, thick length until it was all untangled. Then Angie put clean clothes on me. They worked like a well-oiled machine, helping each other without either of them having to ask, anticipating what the other would need before they even realized they needed it.



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