My Fault (Culpable Book 1)

I was dead asleep when my phone buzzed, waking me up. I rubbed my face and got a move on when I saw it was Jenna.

“You better have a good reason for waking me up at three a.m.,” I grunted, closing my eyes and falling back into my mattress.

“Nick, I need you to come…Noah’s in bad shape,” she said. I got up, suddenly tense, and turned on the light.

“What is it? Is she hurt?” I said, crossing the room, already looking for something to wear.

“She’s been throwing up for like half an hour. She’s totally shit-faced.”

I cursed and grabbed my keys.

“Tell me the address.”

It took me fifteen minutes to get there. The place was packed, and I had to shove my way in. I looked in the living room and kitchen, and just as I was about to grab my phone and call Jenna back to ask where she was, I saw her walking downstairs.

“Where the hell is she?” I asked.

It wasn’t Jenna’s fault, but weren’t they supposed to take care of each other? Not only was Jenna fine, she was 100 percent sober.

“We took her to the upstairs bedroom,” she said, and I went up there, taking the steps two at a time. “I knew she was going too far, but she didn’t want to listen to me, Nick.” I ignored her as I passed through the doorway. Once inside, I kneeled down next to Noah. She was pale and sweaty, probably because she’d been vomiting so much.

“How long has she been like this?” I asked. No one responded, so I turned and yelled at Jenna. “How long?”

“She was throwing up for more than half an hour, and five minutes ago, she passed out…or maybe she’s just asleep… I don’t know, Nicholas, I’m sorry, I tried to get her to stop, but—”

“Drop it, Jenna,” I said, noticing Lion walking in from the corner of my eye.

The girl next to Jenna gave me a serious look.

“I’m a med student. Relax. Her pulse is stable. She just overdid it. She needs to sleep, Tomorrow she’ll have one hell of a hangover, but she’s fine.”

“How can you say she’s fine?” I almost shouted, holding Noah’s unconscious face in my hands, feeling like a nervous wreck.

“She just is. Take her home and keep an eye on her,” the girl said.

“I’m sorry, Nick. I never thought this could happen,” Jenna confessed.

“Honestly, I don’t care what you have to say right now,” I replied coldly, bending over and lifting Noah up. I was scared when she barely made a sound, but her breathing was normal. Her head leaned on my shoulder. I blamed myself once more for failing to protect her. It was my fault she was this way, but something didn’t add up. As I walked down the stairs, I kept asking myself what the hell had happened to make her get drunk like that.

When I parked at home and turned to look at Noah, I couldn’t help but feel an awful sense of déjà vu. The same night I’d met Noah, she’d ended up like this, but that was because someone had put drugs in her drink. That had been my fault, too, and remembering how I’d left her in the middle of the road made me realize what an asshole I’d been to her from the moment I laid eyes on her. I didn’t deserve her, but it was too late now; I was caught in her trap.

I got out of the car and lifted her from the passenger side carefully. She was still out of it, and I had to hurry inside and get her upstairs. It was late, and I didn’t want Raffaella to see her in that miserable state. Without thinking, I went straight to my room. I wouldn’t take my eyes off her until she awakened. When I laid her on my bed, I couldn’t help but think how I’d wished to have her here ever since the first time I’d seen her in her gorgeous dress. But instead, it had to be like this. I took off her shoes and turned on the small lamp on my nightstand. She hadn’t even noticed the complete darkness that had surrounded us, and that made me nearly panic. What if she was worse than she looked? Should I take her to the hospital to have her examined? I decided not to because she was a minor and she could get in trouble for drinking, especially that much.

Her clothing was stained with vomit, and her skin had goose bumps. My mind frozen, I took off her skirt and her tights. I grabbed one of my T-shirts, but before I could put it on her, I noticed something: Noah had a long scar up one side of her stomach. I stared at it in shock… How could that have happened to her? It wasn’t just an everyday scar; it was huge, and it must have needed dozens of stitches. I ran a finger over the smooth surface of that tear in the most beautiful body I’d ever seen. Sleeping, Noah pushed my hand away. Was that why she hadn’t wanted to wear a bikini? Because of the scar? Finally, lots of little moments that were piled up in my head started to make sense: the way she always wore a one-piece, the way she freaked out if anyone said something about her getting undressed, the way she’d been so uncomfortable during that game of Truth or Dare…

I saw Noah was a thousand miles away from me. There was so much I didn’t know about her and so much I needed to protect her from. I pulled the T-shirt over her head and covered her with blankets.

What had happened to her? Who was the real Noah Morgan?

With those thoughts in my head, I lay down next to her, pulling her into my chest, wanting to protect her from everyone and everything. Something had happened to her. I was going to find out what.