Tutoring the Alpha

Chapter Nine: Disturbing Behavior

Benny’s POV

            I woke up in my own familiar bed, my head spinning and my mouth dry. I felt nauseated and confused, not knowing how I’d gone from the party to my bedroom without remembering any of the events in between.

“Sam?” I called out, knowing he’d be hanging around. Sure enough, the sound of my best friend snoring came from the opposite side of the bed, where Sam was sprawled out over the covers, fast asleep. I rolled my eyes, sliding my legs over the edge of the bed and preparing to stand up when another, less comforting voice sounded from the corner of the room.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Mickey? W-what are you doing here?” I gasped, falling back onto the bed in shock. My stomach heaved with the motion, and before Mickey could answer, I leaned over and threw up all over the duvet. Unfortunately, Sam took the brunt of the vomit and awoke with a loud yell as messy chunks of my dinner sprayed all over him.

“Arhh! What the hell, Benny?!”

              I flopped back onto the pillows, coughing and swallowing vigorously to remove the sour taste from my mouth. Almost instantly, Mickey was by my side, handing me a bottle of water and stroking my hair back. While I sipped slowly, I puzzled over how nice Mickey was being to me. This kinder, softer, care-taker side of him was really hot, if I was being honest, but I knew it wouldn’t last. Grumbling and mumbling a string of curses that mostly involved my name or the word “bitch”, Sam rose to his feet and stripped off his soggy t-shirt. I stifled a laugh when he staggered down the hall to use the bathroom, throwing me a dark scowl over his shoulder as he left.

“Oops,” I said quietly, trying to laugh until I realized the motion made the room spin. Mickey chuckled deep in his throat, taking the bottle from my hands and setting it on the bedside table. The humor drained out of his expression the longer he stared at me, which made me wonder just what had actually happened at the party. Somebody probably spiked my drink, I rationalized. That’s why I feel hung over.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess. I’m confused, though.”

Mickey nodded thoughtfully, resting his clasped hands just shy of the side of my arm while he mulled over what to tell me. I took the opportunity to admire his handsome features; his smooth tan skin, the little flip his hair did underneath his ears, the curve of his thin pink lips.

“What do you remember, Benny?”

“Um…not much, really. I remember being at the party, and texting to you to come pick me up. But everything after that is kind of fuzzy. I was watching my drink the whole time though!” I said indignantly, taking another sip of water as fatigue washed over me in a heavy, pressing blanket. God, why am I so tired?

“You were roofied,” Mickey told me bluntly, his face reflecting none of the emotions he might be feeling. My immediate reaction to his confession was denial, and I shook my head adamantly.

“That’s impossible. I opened the can myself and I never let that drink out of my sight!”

“I know. That’s why Sam and I did some digging and found out that several other girls at the party were also roofied but hadn’t been drinking. In fact, they’d only ever taken drinks out of unopened cans or sealed bottles.”

“I don’t understand…are you saying this is like an Immaculate Conception sort of situation?”

“What?” Mickey crinkled his eyebrows in puzzlement, and I sighed internally, struggling to refrain from rolling my eyes.