Chapter 4 Is She Into Girls

Alina’s POV

I watched as Blair’s body went limp on the floor, and all the blood drained entirely from my face.

“Get someone to fucking come give her the antidote!” I yelled, rushing over and slapping her cheeks, but there was zero response.

“When you’re in the exact same state as her, my men will step in. If she dies first, that’s on you,” Romano’s voice rang coldly from the speaker. 

Rushing toward the table, I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the green glass bottle, popped the top, and emptied the contents straight down my throat.

A sharp, sickening agony ripped through my chest. It felt like my heart was being torn out of my ribcage while molten lead flooded my veins. The pain was beyond anything I had ever endured in this miserable life. Stabbing? No, this was infinitely worse.

It eclipsed the pain of watching the people who birthed me burn alive. It eclipsed the pain of watching my only friends get slaughtered, the trauma of being violated at age ten, and the daily torture of knowing how thoroughly wrecked my existence was. 

My legs went completely numb. I slumped hard against the concrete floor, feeling as though I had been stripped of everything human. My rolling gaze caught Blair’s pale, lifeless face. 

Everything blurred into a blinding haze before total darkness swallowed me whole. 

“Alina, are you there?”

My eyes snapped wide open at the sound of Blair’s voice. I arched a brow, taking in her haggard appearance: a massive, angry pimple near her eye and heavy, bruised purple bags dragging beneath them.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what happened to you?” I tried to sit up, but a brutal, stabbing pain shot straight through my chest, knocking the wind entirely out of my lungs.

“Breathe, Lina. You’ll be fine,” Blair urged, her voice sounding muffled through the ringing in my ears. I forced myself to obey, gasping and fighting to drag oxygen back into my system.

Why is breathing suddenly this hard? And then the memories hit like a train—the green bottle, the agony, Blair collapsing on the floor. My eyes darted around the room, finally relaxing when I realized I was back in my own bed.

I propped myself up against the pillows, glaring at Blair. “What the fuck happened?” She sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. At least she was alive. That was something.

“I woke up a week ago after they gave me the antidote, but you didn't. Your body just couldn't handle the shock, so you flatlined into unconsciousness. I swear to God, Alina, I thought you were never going to wake up. It’s been a whole damn week.”

My eyes widened. A week? And I still woke up? Why couldn't I have just died and been done with this stupid, broken life? Or don’t I even deserve the mercy of death?

“What’s churning around in that messed-up skull of yours?” Blair narrowed her eyes at me.

“Just wondering why the fuck I didn't just die,” I muttered, shrugging off the covers and swinging my legs over the side of the bed toward the washroom.

I slammed the bathroom door shut and stared into the mirror. My hair was an absolute bird's nest, and my clothes... what the hell did Blair dress me in? Some sort of oversized nightshirt? Hissing in annoyance, I stripped the fabric off and stepped under the scalding spray of the shower.

After wasting as much time as possible letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles, I dried off, stepped out of the bathroom, and walked out of my room—only to freeze when I saw a blonde figure sitting by the window, staring out at the street.

Bella.

My expression hardened as I bypassed her and headed straight for the closet. “You didn't leave yet?” I grabbed a loose black singlet and a pair of gray sweatpants, pulling them on before turning back toward the dresser.

A pair of hands gently pushed me down onto a chair, snatched the hair dryer from the counter, and switched it on to dry my damp hair. I stared up at her reflection in the mirror. Her usually vibrant face looked hollow, pale-lipped, and terribly thin.

“What happened to you?” I asked, a sliver of genuine worry slipping into my voice. I winced at how rough and raspy it sounded.

“How come you’re mixed up with Romano?” she countered quietly, keeping her focus on drying my hair.

I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to answer. She stopped moving the dryer, her eyes locking onto mine through the mirror.

“How can you be doing business with a monster like Romano? Do you have any idea how terrified Blair and I were? We thought you were dead! Do you—?” Her voice cracked, fresh tears spilling over her lashes and tracking down her hollow cheeks.

I fought the sudden, traitorous urge to reach up and wipe them away. Instead, I stood up, snatched the hair dryer from her hands, tossed it onto the vanity, and walked straight past her toward the bedroom door.

She darted in front of me at the last second, blocking the exit. My brows snapped together in irritation. What the hell was her problem?

“You really think nobody gives a shit about whether you live or die, don’t you?” she demanded, wiping her face fiercely.

As ridiculous as the words sounded, they landed a direct, painful hit on a bruised part of my soul. Was anyone supposed to care about me? Who? Who could possibly care about someone like me?

Before I could process the thought, her hands grabbed my face, and soft, warm lips crushed down onto mine.

Panic flared through my veins. I pulled back instantly, my chest heaving. I hated this. I hated what she was doing. I was straight. Fucking straight. I don’t do girls; I liked dick—big ones.

I shoved her back hard against the doorframe. “I need something thick and heavy to fill my holes, not a pussy kissing them!”

With that, I shoved past her and stormed out into the hallway, hissing under my breath. Why the fuck did I let her think I was into her? The second I stepped out, Blair’s gaze snapped away from the doorway and locked onto me, her eyes darting back and forth between me and Bella standing behind me in the room.

She grabbed my arm, practically dragging me down the stairs and into the kitchen before letting go and crossing her arms.

“Would you two stop with the staring contests already?” I rolled my eyes, leaning against the counter.

“Will you finally explain what the absolute fuck happened between you and the blonde?” Blair demanded, her voice sharp.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Why did everyone assume I was into her?

“We got tangled up that night, okay? Things happened! I was drunk out of my mind. If I hadn't been half-dead, I wouldn't even have looked twice at her,” I snapped, rubbing my temples.

“Then why the fuck is the tension still lingering around here like a bad smell?” Blair shot back.