Chapter 18
Claire's POV
The cold night air hit my face like a slap, momentarily clearing some of the fog from my mind. I was vaguely aware of voices arguing—the female voice I thought was Jennifer's, and Dave's deeper tone responding with practiced charm.
"She agreed to come with me," he was insisting, his grip tightening around me as I slumped in his arms. "We're just going somewhere quieter to talk. Right, Claire?"
I wanted to contradict him, to tell the woman that I hadn't agreed to anything, but my tongue felt too heavy in my mouth. The tequila had hit me harder than I'd ever experienced before—making me wonder if Dave had slipped something extra into my drinks. The thought sent a chill through me before darkness began creeping in at the edges of my vision.
Everything went black.
When I came to, I was being half-carried, half-dragged through an unfamiliar lobby. The fluorescent lights overhead were harsh against my sensitive eyes, making me squint as I tried to orient myself. My head pounded

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