Free Surrender by Tawny Taylor Page A

carpeted floor. Talking on his phone.
    He’d noticed I was acting differently—who wouldn’t? But I’d been able to convince him that my change in attitude toward him had everything to do with my sickness.
    I checked the time too often, frequently enough that time dragged. Three hours passed. Four. Five. Six. That doctor hadn’t been lying. Sheesh. Just a little shy of seven hours after I’d been discharged, my phone finally buzzed.
    “Miss Abigail Barnes?” I recognized the doctor’s voice.
    “Yes, it’s me.”
    “We have the results back from your blood and urine tests. We got a positive on both for midazolam. Have you ever taken medication to treat seizures or insomnia?”
    “No, I haven’t.”
    “The concentration wasn’t high enough to raise a concern of overdose. But it could produce the effects you described.”
    A chill swept through my body. “I was drugged.”
    I heard Kameron’s footsteps approaching. He’d probably heard me talking on the phone. The door, which hadn’t been shut all the way, swung open.
    The doctor said, “If you’d like to—”
    “Thank you.” I hit the button, cutting off the call.
    My blood was ice cold and yet my ears, face, and neck were burning hot.
    He’d drugged me. It had to be him.
    The water. I remembered drinking water in the car. That must have been it.
    His gaze met mine. “What’s wrong?”
    He’d drugged me. God only knew what else he’d done when I was unconscious.
    Bastard!
    Tears burned my eyes. My nose. I sniffled.
    A wave of rage surged through me, and I couldn’t hold it back. “Why?” I screamed, the sound cutting through a sob. “That’s all I want to know. Why?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    I shook my phone. “My blood tests came back. You still don’t know what I’m talking about?”
    “No. What?” He looked bewildered. He sounded bewildered. Wow, what an actor he was.
    “Give it a break, Mr. Maldonado. I’m not buying the act.”
    “What act? What are you suggesting?”
    “Why did you drug me? And why the hell aren’t you admitting the truth?” I shrieked, unable to stop myself. He’d pushed me and pushed me with that innocent shit.
    His mouth gaped, then snapped shut.
    “Yeah. I know the truth. So there’s no use lying anymore.”
    He stood. He paced.
    “Trying to think up an excuse?” I sneered.
    “No, I’m not.”
    “Good.”
    He stopped pacing. “It wasn’t me.”
    I slapped my hands on my thighs. “Bullshit. Who else could it be? I haven’t gone anywhere with anyone else. Only you.”
    “I don’t know who else. What drug did they find?”
    “I don’t remember. And I didn’t have a chance to write it down. It started with an M.”
    Kameron glanced around my room. His eyes locked on my computer. “May I?” He motioned to it.
    “Sure. Whatever.” Why was he keeping up the innocent act?
    He flipped it open and, sitting on the bed, set it on his lap. “M, you say?”
    “Yes. But you know what it was already. You gave it to me.”
    The keyboard went tap-tap-tappity-tap .
    Then. “Midazolam?” he asked.
    “Yes, I think that’s it.”
    He was silent as he read the information on the screen. “What was the last thing you remember eating or drinking last night?”
    “The water. In the car. On our way to the hotel. I used it to wash down the aspirin.”
    “I bet it was spiked.”
    “Sure. You spiked it. After you opened it for me, so I could take my aspirin.”
    “No, I didn’t spike it. I swear to you.” He closed the computer, set it on the bed, and focused on me. “Listen, I can understand how this looks, but it wasn’t me.”
    I searched his face. I wasn’t particularly good at catching people in lies. My own brother fooled me over and over and over. And I’d known him most of my life. So how would I ever discern whether a man I barely knew was speaking the truth?
    Shaking his head, he shoved his hand into his pocket. He pulled it out, his fingers wrapped around his phone. And,