Antidote (Dazed Series Book 3) Read online

  ANTIDOTE

  DAZED #3

  C.M. RADCLIFF

  Copyright © 2022 by C.M. Radcliff

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places, events or real people are entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Designer: Cassie Chapman at Opulent Swag and Designs

  Editor: Ellie McLove, My Brother’s Editor

  Find the person who embraces your flames…

  And burn the fucking world down together.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. Killian

  2. Killian

  3. Ainsley

  4. Killian

  5. Ainsley

  6. Killian

  7. Ainsley

  8. Killian

  9. Ainsley

  10. Killian

  11. Ainsley

  12. Killian

  13. Ainsley

  14. Killian

  15. Ainsley

  16. Killian

  17. Ainsley

  18. Killian

  19. Killian

  20. Ainsley

  21. Killian

  22. Ainsley

  23. Killian

  24. Killian

  25. Killian

  26. Ainsley

  27. Killian

  28. Ainsley

  29. Ainsley

  30. Killian

  31. Ainsley

  32. Killian

  OPIUM SKIES | IN VEIN SERIES #1

  COMING THIS SUMMER

  Also by C.M. Radcliff

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  Ainsley

  Slowly, I lift my head, my body screaming in protest. I blink rapidly, attempting to push away the fogginess, but it lingers. The seat belt cuts into my chest, rubbing the violent burn that it had already left there. Something warm drips down the front of my face. I go to move my arm, but I can’t lift it. I groan out loud in pain, my eyes slamming shut.

  It takes a moment for my brain to register what is going on. The day plays back to me in my mind and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest. I peel my eyes open again, slowly turning my head to look for Killian. I know that we got into an accident, but where the fuck is he?

  “Killian?” I attempt to call out for him, but my voice is barely audible. I can barely hear it. I glance around the car, noting that his seat is empty. The windshield is broken with blood spattered across it. There’s blood on the deflated airbag.

  Wherever he is, I don’t think that it’s good. I just need to find him and make sure that he’s okay.

  Using my uninjured arm, I feel around until my hand lands on the buckle for my seat belt. I press down on it and the movement alone steals the air from my lungs. I’m out of breath, gasping for oxygen as my chest constricts. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but my body is fucked right now. Everything hurts. My vision is blurry and every time I move, my surroundings spin.

  I attempt again, clenching my jaw as I use as much strength that I can muster to push down on the buckle. It takes everything out of me. My head hangs in defeat as I leave my hand on the buckle. My chest heaves with every shallow breath. I blink my eyes rapidly, attempting to clear my vision, but it only gets worse. A droplet of blood lands on my lashes.

  I’ve had some moments in my life where I felt helpless, but never like this. The edges of my field of vision start to close in on me. I can’t fight the darkness. I can’t stay awake. It pulls me under without giving me a choice. I have no option but to succumb to it.

  “We need to get her out of here as quickly and as carefully as possible.”

  An unfamiliar voice speaks, but it sounds so far away. I fight against the heaviness in my head that threatens to suck me down under. My head swims in the darkness. I can slowly feel myself resurfacing. My eyelids stick as I attempt to pry them open.

  Finally, something gives and my eyes open. I blink rapidly, my eyes adjusting to my surroundings. A young man dressed in a medic uniform is close to my face. His eyes widen as I meet his gaze. “You’re awake.”

  I groan in response. Everything hurts like a motherfucker, and I still don’t know where Killian is. “Killian.” My voice cracks as I whisper his name out loud. “Where is he?”

  The medic’s jaw tightens and my question goes unanswered. “We need to get you out of the car. That’s our number one priority. Can you tell me what all hurts?”

  “Everything.”

  He nods in understanding. “Are you able to move at all?”

  “I can’t move my right arm. I haven’t tried to move anything else.”

  “What about your neck?” he asks, his eyes searching mine as he flashes a light, inspecting my pupils. “Do you have any pain in your neck? Your head?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, knowing that none of this is good. “Where is Killian?”

  “We need to worry about you right now.” The medic pauses, his eyes softening. “We looked him over. He had a few scratches, but he’ll be fine.”

  “Where is he?”

  The medic ignores me, turning away from me for a moment. “Brad, I need your help getting her out. Bring a collar. We need to stabilize her neck before we move her.”

  I sit in silence, in agonizing pain as the two of them develop the safest plan for moving me. It isn’t long before they have my neck stabilized and are carefully removing me from my totaled Bentley. It doesn’t matter, it’s a fucking car. What matters is if Killian is okay.

  This is all my fault.

  Tears spring to my eyes as pain shoots through my body as they lift me from the car and place me on the stretcher. The heroin that I did earlier doesn’t even come close to touching the pain. It’s completely out of my system at this point and I feel every fucking thing. Emotionally and physically.

  “I need to know what you were on so I can treat you properly on the way to the hospital. I don’t want to give you anything that could counteract with anything that is already in your system.”

  I swallow hard. “Heroin.”

  The medic nods, lifting the head of the stretcher. All the air leaves my lungs and a sob gets caught in my throat when my eyes find Killian.

  He’s bent over the hood of the cop car, his face turned to the side, pressed against the metal as the cop leans against him, securing handcuffs around his wrist.

  “What the fuck is going on?” My throat hurts as I cry out the words. “Why are they arresting him? It was an accident.”

  “They found the drugs in the car. He told them that they were his.” The medic hesitates. “They’re suspecting that he’s under the influence of something too.”

  No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

  “They weren’t his. The pills were mine. I was the one who was high, not him.” I struggle to try and sit up, pressing all of my weight against the straps that hold me down. “Let me the fuck off here. I need to go talk to them. They can’t arrest him. None of this is his fault.”

  “You need to calm down. You’re not in good shape right now and we need you to remain still and calm.”

  “Fuck you!” I scream at him, thrashing against the straps. The cop grabs Killian from the cuffs, hauling him backward onto his feet. “Killian!”

  Killian turns his head, his eyes meeting mine. “I love you,” he mouths silently. Even with the distance between us, it’s impossible to miss the pain that washes over his expression. He hangs his head in defeat.

  “Killian! No!” I’m hysterical. The tears stream down my
face, my body screams in agony as I fight against the straps, struggling to break free. “Don’t arrest him, please!”

  The medic presses my shoulders back as gently as he can. I yelp out in pain from the pressure against my right shoulder and the way that my chest constricts as I struggle to catch my breath. “Brad, I need a sedative now.”

  Killian opens his mouth to say something, but I see the cop’s mouth moving as he talks in a low voice to Killian. The cop pulls open the door to the back seat and places his hand on the top of Killian’s head, pushing him down as he shoves him into the car.

  “What the fuck! Let him go!” My throat is raw and it burns as I continue to scream. “Let me off of this fucking stretcher!”

  I don’t even notice Brad approach as he hands a syringe to the medic that has been hovering over me. He doesn’t say a word as he wraps a tourniquet around my bicep as Brad pushes the stretcher toward the ambulance. The medic doesn’t bother placing an IV. He slides the needle into the first vein that he finds. I continue to thrash around, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  It doesn’t take long for the sedative to hit my system. It flows through my body and my head grows heavier. My body begins to feel limp and I struggle to continue to break free. I can’t fight against the medication that begins to pull me back under. My eyelids grow heavy and I can barely keep them open any longer.

  I can’t tear my gaze away from the cop car as it begins to pull away. The taillights shine brightly in the darkness of the night and the sedative grows stronger, pulling me under. The last thing that I see before my eyes fall shut is Killian being taken away in the back of a cop car.

  “Killian,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as my eyes finally fall shut and I’m pulled back into the dark depths.

  My head throbs and a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach. I struggle to lift my eyelids as they stick to the bottom lids like they’re glued together. I push past the heaviness, forcing them open. They quickly fall shut as the bright light above me burns harshly. The beeping that echoes throughout the room bounces off my eardrums, intensifying the throbbing in my skull.

  I lift my eyelids again, squinting against the light as I force them to stay open. My vision is blurred and I blink rapidly as the room comes into focus. The walls are white, the lights above me are brighter than the goddamn sun. My eyes survey the room, taking in my surroundings. I’m in the hospital, hooked up to various monitors and IVs.

  As I shift my weight, in an attempt to sit up in the bed, my body screams in protest. The pain strikes me like a bolt of lightning, lighting my nerve endings on fire. My body hurts worse than I did when they pulled me from the car.

  Fuck. The car. The accident. Killian...

  The monitor starts to beep louder as my heart pounds erratically in my chest. The panic sets in and it threatens to take over. My arm is in a cast, with a sling that keeps it positioned over my chest. My shoulder aches as I push myself up, sitting straight up.

  The door to my room suddenly opens and two nurses briskly walk in. “She’s awake,” the blonde one murmurs to the brunette. “Ainsley, you need to lie back down. We can’t have you getting up yet.”

  “Fuck you,” I growl at both of them. My voice is hoarse and my throat fucking burns when I attempt to talk. “Where is Killian? I need to see him.”

  The brunette, whose name badge reads Jackie, lightly lays her hand on my good shoulder, urging me to lie back against the back of the bed. She lifts the head of the bed, so I don’t have to lie down flat. I give in, my body unable to hold myself up with how weak I am. “You’ve been through a lot. We just need you to relax right now, okay?”

  I glance over at the blonde nurse who hangs another bag of fluid and pushes some medication through my IV. “What are you doing?” I ask her suspiciously.

  “I’m just giving you something to relax you. Are you in any pain right now?”

  My eyes scan her name badge. “I don’t know, Lindsey.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Do you think I’m in pain right now?”

  She swallows nervously and Jackie grabs her stethoscope. “I’m going to do an assessment, since you’re awake now.” Jackie turns to glance at Lindsey. “Can you go get Dr. Evans?”

  Lindsey nods, before quickly disappearing from the room. Jackie goes through her head-to-toe assessment, checking practically every inch of me. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but my name is Jackie. Lindsey and I have both been your primary nurses while in the ICU.”

  ICU? “Why am I in the ICU?” The panic is completely consuming me. “I need to get out of here. I can’t be in here.”

  “Take a deep breath,” she instructs, her voice soothing, as she pulls a chair up beside the bed and sits down. “Do you remember anything that happened to you?”

  I nod as the guilt washes over me. “We were in a car accident.”

  “When you came in, you had a small brain bleed and a skull fracture. It’s slowly resolving on its own, but you’ve been in a coma for the past two weeks.”

  Two fucking weeks...

  She pauses with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “You also sustained some other injuries. You had a collapsed lung, but we were able to remove the chest tube a few days ago. You also broke both bones in your right forearm and your shoulder was dislocated and the muscles were torn. The doctors were able to perform surgery to correct those, but you have a long road ahead of you with your recovery.”

  She has no idea how long my recovery really is going to be.

  “What about my neck?”

  “There wasn’t any significant injury. The pain was just from the whiplash from the impact from when the car hit the telephone pole.”

  I stare at her, my mind struggling to process everything that she’s telling me. None of it really sinks in, because none of it really fucking matters. “What about Killian? Where is he?”

  “Is that your boyfriend? The one who was driving?”

  I nod, opening my mouth to demand that I see him when we’re rudely interrupted by the doctor and Lindsey following behind him. Jackie gets up from the chair beside the bed, stepping to the side as the doctor comes to stand beside my bed.

  “Ainsley.” The man smiles down at me with a hopeful expression. “I’m Dr. Evans. I am so happy to see that you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

  “Look, I appreciate the concern, but it doesn’t matter how I’m feeling.” My eyes move between the doctor and the two nurses. “Can somebody answer my fucking questions about my boyfriend?”

  Dr. Evans glances over his shoulder at the two nurses. “Can you two give us a few minutes? And then you can finish whatever you need to do with her.”

  They both nod before disappearing from the room without another word. Dr. Evans follows after them, softly closing the door behind them before turning back around to me. “Your boyfriend. He was the one driving, right?”

  “Yes,” I answer him quietly as he takes a seat on the chair that Jackie was sitting on. My throat hurts so bad, but I ignore it. The pain is a welcomed feeling. “Is he okay?”

  “He never came into the hospital.” Dr. Evans clears his throat, folding his hands on his lap. “I’m not sure what all you remember from that night, but they found drugs in the car and in his system. I know that they arrested him that night after the medics on scene cleared him. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any other information in regards to what is going on with him.”

  “How can I find out?” I ask him, my voice frantic. “It was all a mistake. The drugs weren’t his, they were mine.”

  Dr. Evans gives me a small smile. “I can reach out and see what his status is. I’m assuming that he is awaiting his sentencing, unless he posted bail.”

  “I have the money. I can get him out.”

  “Ainsley,” he starts slowly, his voice sympathetic. “I know that you are worried about him, but we need to focus on you right now and getting you better.” He pauses for a moment. “We also need to discuss the drugs that we found in your system.”

&nbsp
; Fuck.

  Why does it always come down to this? Regardless of what happens in life, it always comes down to my addiction and my issues. If it weren’t for me going out and getting high that night, this all would have been avoided. I know that I have a problem and it just keeps rearing its ugly fucking head at any chance that it gets.

  I ruin everything that I touch.

  “I know that I need help,” I admit, quietly. It hurts to say it out loud and I wish they would stop the medications so I could feel the physical pain instead of this emotional pain. “I was in an intensive outpatient program.”

  Dr. Evans raises an eyebrow. “And do you feel like that was working for you? Because there were quite a few different things that came up on the toxicology screen that we did.”

  I shake my head, hanging it slightly in defeat and shame. “No, I don’t think it was.”

  “I didn’t think so.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “And that’s okay. The same programs don’t always work for everyone. That’s why there are so many different options when it comes to your treatment.”

  “So, what are my options?”

  Dr. Evans abruptly stands up. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I know that this is a lot for you to take on, and I think that this is a conversation we should have with your family.”

  As badly as I want to argue, I don’t have the strength to. Whatever medications the nurses gave me are too strong for me to continue to fight. My eyelids are heavy, my body feels fucking limp and just so weak. I have no choice but to agree with him and let the sleep pull me under. The sooner that I can get better physically, the sooner I can get out of this entire mess.