Siren's Mark

Chapter 50

𝔸𝕧𝕒

Every inch of my skin is throbbing along with my heartbeat. I feel like I have the worst hangover of my life.

I try to remember if I drank very much last night.

What did I do last night? The bar, with Kieran and Finn, was that last night? I only had one drink.

Why does the bed feel so uncomfortable?

I feel like our mattress was replaced with a lumpy bale of hay.

I try to pry my eyes open and am finding it harder than usual. As I do, the light seems unbearably bright and my dry eyes sting.

The room is white and unfamiliar, with styrofoam ceiling tiles like the ones you'd find in a dreary office building. I try to turn my neck to look around, but it's stiff and achy.

Where the hell am I?

My eyes catch the top of a light blue, paisley-print curtain. Unfortunately, there's only one type of place that has curtains that garish.

Fuck.

"Ava?" a woman's soft voice asks.

Jen's face appears over me. My vision is still slightly blurry and adjusting. Her voice was so shaky and weak, I almost didn't recognize it.

"Jen?" I ask. My voice is rough and dry.

"It's okay, hon," she says. "You're in the hospital. You're gonna be okay. We're here for you."

"We?" I ask.

I'm hoping she doesn't mean Zane. Being in the hospital and looking like death is bad enough when your boyfriend isn't an immortal paragon of hotness.

"Tell me you didn't call Zane," I say.

"Ahem..." Zane clears his voice.

I strain my neck a little further to see him standing in the corner.

Fuck my life.

"Hey," I say awkwardly.

I examine his face as he takes a step toward me. His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. His hair is tousled and his white button-up shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

He looks devastated.

What the heck happened? Did I pass out during something important?

This is so embarrassing.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You um..." Jen says, her voice shaking.

I've never seen Jen this distraught. That doesn't bode well for whatever she's about to say.

"When I got to your place, you..." she continues. "You wouldn't wake up. You were barely conscious and disoriented. You tried to talk but you weren't making any sense. I had to get you to the hospital."

I sit up slightly, groaning in pain as I do.

A man with dark skin and a beard enters the room. Judging by the white coat I think it's safe to assume he's my doctor.

"Hi, Ava," he says. "I'm Dr. Ellison. How are you feeling?"

"Um," I say. "Pretty bad. Everything hurts. My stomach especially."

"That's to be expected. You've experienced acute hepatic failure—liver failure. It's likely something you've taken or ingested. Have you recently taken any unusual medications or substances?"