The Degradation of Shelby Ann by Emma Cole
Chapter Eighteen
Shelby
My voice had abandoned me. That, and the foggy recollection of events from the last however long, ran on repeat through my head until the door opened and then shut again. I hid, curled into a ball under the blankets that reeked of sex and irritated my skin, and wondered how bad it would be if I refused to come out.
I'd been alternately too afraid and too unsteady to leave the room after the women had left. On the one hand, I was embarrassed that I would have to trek through the house in my state, and on the other, I doubted I could even make it, so I'd climbed into bed, too exhausted to care about the cleanliness of the sheets.
It was careless of me to not have at least made use of the bathroom and gotten dressed, but it hadn't occurred to me that anyone would come back. I was so stupid. In my defense, rational thought wasn't reliable thanks to whatever drug Winston had forced into me, but at least the effects were less now than they had been.
I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid seeing what torment was to be inflicted on me as the footsteps came closer, stopping next to bed. But then a heavy sigh had me peeking out to confirm my fear. Not the one I dreaded, but one I'd hoped would never come to pass.
"C'mon, Miss Shelby, let's get you fixed up and back to your room." Jerry's kind eyes met mine, and suddenly, I very much wanted the care he promised. Even if it was out of duty or whatever else, I craved a connection to someone who didn't want to use me for their own gain or twisted desires.
"Th-thank you," I whispered, voice rough from thirst and crying. But when I sat up, the room spun, and I nearly toppled off the bed. I'd have hit the floor in an undignified sprawl if Jerry hadn't caught me and urged me back down. The cool touch of his hands against my heated skin felt wonderful though, and I couldn't help the groan of relief.
"Miss Shelby," came the sharp address from the sweet man, "what did you take? Open your eyes, miss, please." He muttered something that I didn't catch when I told him what Winston had said earlier, then coaxed me back into my nest of blankets. I started to protest, but he shushed me and told me to close my eyes. "I'll be right back. I just need to get something."
An angry conversation filtered in to me through the open door as lucidity returned once again, and that time I was aware of what had happened. My face burned in shame as I realized I'd told Jerry about the drug, but I pushed that away as best I could so I could hear what was being said.
"What do you mean you don't know what it is? Isn't it your job to keep him in check and at least try to take care of her?"
"From what you said, I'm guessing it's one of the hybrid club drugs. He's been pushing to find new designer concoctions to try to take over from other suppliers, and I'm nearly certain he's been sampling them. Unfortunately, I've been sidelined from keeping him away from her. Winston said to let it run its course and deal with the mess when it ends."
Carter sounded frustrated, but I was more worried about the fact that my father-in-law didn't care if I died and that my husband was doing drugs. He was already batshit crazy; he didn't need chemical help. If anything, he needed to see a head doctor and get something for his psychotic episodes. And the fact that he'd given me some random thing cooked up in a lab… Oh dear Lord, he's shipping drugs. I'd never asked what the business consisted of, not that I'd have been told, but this was insane.
"You can't be serious!" The vehemence in Jerry's tone had me tuning back into the happenings in the hall. "Figure something out, Carter. Your parents would be so ashamed—"
"Are you trying to get us both executed? Jesus fucking Christ, Jer, watch your mouth. This time the cameras were disabled. Dirk demanded it after he caught one of the guards yanking it to a replay. And don't lecture me about what you don't understand!"
"Then get in there and help her! I can't believe you left her alone in there for so long. You could have at least called me sooner." Jerry knows everything… He certainly seemed to, but I was more confused than ever. And my head hurt.
"I'm the last person Shelby wants to see right now. This time it was my fault. I knew he had plans and it was your day off. I should have waited...but I thought she was going to stay in her room." A muffled groan sounded out. "I fucked up, and now he's taken it too far. He won't stop anymore, and I don't know what to do."
"I'll figure something out. Right now, you're going to get in there and help that woman. Don't think for a minute that I don't know who she is—to you and to Rafe. But there's no time for that today. She has to be ready to leave in two hours, and she's in no condition to even walk. I'm going to see what I can do to get her into good enough shape to get through the evening."
They stopped talking, and the door closed again, but I recognized Carter's cologne and cringed at the thought of him seeing the aftermath of what I was sure he'd heard.
"I'm sorry, Shelby. Will you let me help?" My head said to flip him off, but my heart twisted at the idea. And my skin wanted him to touch it. It was like the muscle memory just took over, and I needed it now.
"There's something wrong with me," I whimpered as I fought the urge to touch him. I'd had enough of sex to last me ten lifetimes. There was zero chances that I really wanted him.
"I know, baby, but it's not your fault. I'm going to get you up now. Just remember, nothing leaves this room. Not right now anyway."
I was so freaking lost.
* * *
After Carter helped me shower and dress, he took me through empty halls to the elevator. I didn’t know if it was luck or he’d cleared the path, but we didn’t encounter anyone until we were back in my suite. Dirk appeared to be gone, or at least his door was shut and it was quiet, but Jerry waited for us in my bedroom with an arsenal of items.
“Here now, Miss Shelby, I want you to drink all of this and eat what you can while I find you something suitable to wear.” He helped me settle at the writing desk where he already had a tray of finger foods and orange juice laid out. “Carter is going to play lady’s maid tonight, and I’ve called the doctor to come give you a boost to help with that nasty shit you were given.” I’d never heard Jerry cuss before and stared at him wide-eyed as he patted me on the head and disappeared into my dressing room.
Carter didn’t seem to share my surprise as he took a seat in a plush chair in the corner of the room. “Eat,” he commanded sternly with a pointed stare flicking from me to my plate. Then he set about ignoring me while he typed on his phone until I turned around to see what I could manage.
I wasn’t feeling as poorly as I had before, but the thought of food turned my stomach. The juice was welcome though, so I sucked that down immediately. There was a pitcher with water and a smaller carafe of more juice, and I refilled my glass from both until I felt bloated, but the worst of the thirst had subsided. My mind wandered to how the evening would go. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Winston Sr. Mostly I just wanted to go back to bed, but the itchy energy under my skin told me sleep might not be on the agenda for a while yet.
The chaotic thoughts screeched to a halt at a knock on the door. It took a second to realize it wasn't Dirk since he wouldn't knock, but by then Carter had gotten up and was headed to open it. The doctor that had come to the house before appeared at the same time Jerry came out of the dressing room.
"Thanks for coming on short notice, Dr. Wright. I believe Carter supplied the details?"
The man nodded, but he didn't return the greeting. He seemed reluctant to engage and came directly for me before instructing me through the usual check-up preliminaries while Jerry and Carter watched from a few feet away. The whole thing was uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere in the room, but not too long after, he had me move to lay on the bed and started an IV.
When he had the bag of yellow-tinted fluid hanging from the headboard, he cleaned up and told me to stay there until it was empty. After Jerry reassured him that they could handle the rest, Dr. Wright left just as quickly as he'd come.
I trusted Jerry, for the most part—after all, he was a member of the household of horrors—but I was about at the end of my rope with being treated like a marionette.
"Thank you for all of your help, but could you please tell me what I'm being given now?" I should have asked before, but I hadn't had the courage in front of Winston Sr.'s personal physician.
"It's just something to help counteract what's already there and to get your levels back to normal. It won't take long, and then I'll get it out and you can get ready to go." That was all clear as mud to me, but the reminder of dinner had me glancing at the clock. "We have about an hour," Jerry confirmed when I looked at him apprehensively.
The medication did help me feel better, but I was from my best as I shuffled into the dressing room. Soreness radiated from my crotch, making it extra difficult to walk normally, and I worried about having to wear heels. I’m going to faceplant in front of Dirk’s dad and the entire restaurant. I dreaded to contemplate the punishment that would ensue if that happened and determined that I’d do whatever necessary to avoid it.
Thankfully, Jerry had picked out a modest dress with matching kitten heels, which I thought I could manage okay. The fabric was light enough to not overheat, and the sleeves would cover the small bandage on my inner arm while the high-neck would keep any marks from showing. I hated that I was one of those women. The ones that dressed with covering up abuse in mind. I’d never have thought that I’d be one of them, but there I was, doing just that.
And awkward couldn’t begin to describe having Carter help me into everything. I’d been too out of it in the shower and hadn’t cared that he’d been there, or had cared too much, but it hadn’t been due to embarrassment. No, whatever cocktail Winston had given me had had me trying to refrain from rubbing on him like a cat in heat. Now, it was all plain uncomfortable, but better than Jerry seeing the marks too. He felt like a kindly uncle, and that gave me the willies to think about. But Carter was no-nonsense and had me dressed in five minutes flat. He even turned his back for the parts that I could handle myself, which was really only my underwear, but it was something at least.
Finally, he called the all clear to Jerry, and I sat in front of the vanity while Jerry fixed my hair in a simple but elegant bun. He just smirked and said he was a man of many talents when I asked about it. Soon enough, I was ready to go, yet at the same time, I dreaded having to face Dirk or endure the car ride to the restaurant. But Carter saved me that time, insisting on riding along as he had paperwork to deliver to Winston Sr. after dinner, and Dirk didn’t say a word when Carter escorted me to the vehicle. His eyes though, they promised retribution for avoiding him, making me cling that much more tightly to Carter’s arm.