Page 69 of Brought By the Storm

“Just in the nick of time,” Stefan said. “Carrington was about to…get his ass kicked by a suitor of Eric’s.”

“Was not,” I protested. “If you hadn’t stopped me…”

“Rearrange your face.” Eric chuckled, head still down on the table.

“What’s up with him?” Mateo asked.

“Drunk as a skunk,” Stefan responded. “How are we getting him out of here?”

Now that the adrenaline rush was over, I looked at Eric and felt immense remorse. My poor broken guy—broken because of me.

“Carrington, focus!” Mateo barked, mirroring what I had said to him earlier on the phone.

“What?”

“Come on, help us guide Eric out of here,” Mateo demanded.

I nodded and the three of us were trying to prop up Eric to his feet. He was alternating between chuckles and complaints. “Sleepy. Just let me lie down on the couch over there.”

“No can do, buddy,” Mateo told him. “Once you’re asleep, you’ll be out for hours. We’re taking you out of here.”

“Where’s your car?” I asked Mateo.

“In a parking garage a couple of blocks down.”

Stefan was applying a lot of strength to keep Eric upright. “Christ, I don’t know if we’ll make it. He’s dead weight.”

“We can’t drive back to Connecticut with him like this,” I reasoned. “What if he gets sick on the drive?”

Mateo nodded. “He will, too. He gets carsick when he’s not driving, and that’s when he’s sober. I don’t think there are many places we could pull over until we’re out of the metro area. Plus, he parked his car somewhere here in the Village. We can’t just leave it.”

“Stefan, can you get us hotel rooms?” I asked.

We sat Eric down, watching him fall into a lifeless pile. He wasn’t even muttering anymore, and I was beginning to worry that he might need medical attention.

After a couple of minutes, Stefan turned to us with a grimace. “There’s just one available room in the city, unless we wish to stay in a fleabag. Should I grab it? It has two double beds.”

“Yes,” I responded. “Let’s get him somewhere comfortable.”

Once Stefan confirmed the room, the three of us lifted Eric again, making our way out of the club—more dragging than walking him. There were several patrons watching with expressions that signaled disgust or amusement. It wasn’t until we reached the doorman that someone seemed empathetic.

“Rough night for this one, huh?” he asked Stefan, maybe remembering the tip and the one-second hand job.

“I think he overdosed on ear candy today,” Stefan quipped. “That club music is God-awful, dude.”

Dude?Stefan was already picking up the Mateo and Eric lingo. The doorman just laughed and shrugged. We spent several minutes pulling Eric down the street, his tennis shoes skimming the pavement as he made a few attempts to take steps on his own. The three of us were sweating and panting once we had Eric secured and strapped in the back seat of Mateo’s car. “Don’t let him puke on my seats,” Mateo commanded, implying I should sit in the back with Eric. I was happy to.

As Mateo drove uptown, I used the opportunity to take Eric’s hand in mine. He looked so fragile, lying with his head falling to the side, a noticeable bruise where the assassin had pounded him earlier in the day. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered to him.

Getting Eric into the hotel from its parking garage was the latest challenge. It would have been easier to lift him and carry him, but I knew that would draw more scrutiny and could bar us from entering. Mateo and I lingered in the back of the lobby, propping up Eric as Stefan carried our overnight bags and checked us in at the front desk. When it appeared the desk clerk was distracted helping another customer, Mateo and I dragged Eric down the hall to the elevator banks.

“You need to check in at home, Carrington. There’s going to be a lot of worry as to why you’re not on the flight you said you’d be on and most of your luggage is,” Stefan reminded me.

I nodded. “When we get in the room, I’ll call Mother to tell her. It will be early morning there, so I’m sure to get another earful for waking her.”

“If you end up resigning, maybe you should just stay in the United States.” Stefan grinned. “You may not want to face the people of Yastarus.”

“You’re resigning?” Mateo asked wide-eyed.