Marked

Chapter Twenty: Scarlett

"Wake up, Scarlett, wake up. We're here."

I opened my eyes slowly. Bright blinking lights and signs flashed in my eyes. Everything you would expect to see in Vegas was all right there. I sat up in the passenger seat slowly. Still tired, I took a look around at all the casinos. Each one saying that they're better than the last.

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to barf."

"Do you want me to pull over?"

"I'm fine." I gripped the handle above the door. My knuckles started turning white from the pressure.

"Really, Scar, I can stop if we need to."

"No, I'm fine, really. It's just the lights..." I rubbed my forehead, hoping that I could somehow massage away the pain. "How much farther to the hotel?" I shut my eyes.

"Not far," And with that, I squeezed my eyes shut and fell asleep.

I stumbled into the hotel room. The room was a suite and it had a good sized kitchen area, dining table, desk and couch. I walked to the back of the hotel, into the bedroom area. The blinds were opened and I shut them, the flashing lights of Vegas reminding me of my headache. I could still see the lights through the blinds so I took an extra sheet from a closet and draped it over the curtains. Finally with the sheet, the signs outside ceased to exist.

I laid down on the bed, clawing at my head, almost massaging, but more of a scratching than anything. I brought my legs in close to my chest, hugging them, trying to cope with the pain raging through my head.

"Are you okay, Scar?" Chase rubbed my arm, worry in his eyes.

I groaned. "My... head... hurts..." I tightened my grip on my legs and pulled them so close to my body that I felt almost strangled.

"Let me get you some medicine,"

I shut my eyes tight and moaned again. I've had headaches like this before, where the pain crosses the line that divides "ache" to "migraine." I felt my stomach flop around, like when you run after drinking lots of water—even though I hadn't eaten since this morning and I've only taken sips of water every once in a while.

Chase came back in the bedroom with a small glass of water—the kind of glass you would use for Jack—and a small white pill in his hand. "Here, drink and swallow this."

I slowly sat up, just enough to swallow the water and the pill. I laid back down, feeling dizzy by sitting up. Chase watched my actions with worried eyes. I shut my eyes again, trying to force out the pain.

Then, I felt it. I felt the bile rise in my throat. My eyes snapped open and I ran into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I threw up. Chase was right behind me, the same glass of water in his hand. "Scarlett!"

I raised my head, feeling dizzy and like my head weighed a thousand pounds. I let my head drop on the edge of the bathtub, ignoring the small pain the crash sent to the side of my head.

"Scarlett, are you okay,"

"Yeah—" I moved my head over the toilet to throw up again. Again, dizziness took over and I felt like everything was a fun house. I laid my head back on the tub and closed my eyes. I gripped my stomach. My legs felt like rubber and I felt tired.

"Scar," Chase reached over me and flushed the toilet. "Here," He took a towel, already rolled up and lifted my head, slowly and carefully. He put the towel under my head, a make-shift pillow.

I moaned. "I feel like shit,"

"I can't blame you." Chase sighed. "Are you doing barfing?"

I shrugged. "I guess we'll find out sooner or later. Help me get to the bedroom," I kept my eyes closed as Chase carried me over to the bed, gently setting me down. I curled back into a ball and tried to fall asleep. OffiCially out in a minute.