Declan’s POV
That entire time I spent with Beatrice; I regretted it. Even though Cynthia and Makena tried to help, it was unnecessary. Beatrice wouldn’t hurt me, or so I thought. They had been right. She did try to do something to my drink. The state of her well-being was questionable. When she spoke, her words were slurred. “D-Declan? Can’t we go b-back to yourrrr place? I miss you s-s-s-s-so much.”
Either she was too inebriated, which I doubt. Beatrice and Beau had a high tolerance for alcohol. I, on the other hand, would be on my ass after two drinks. “Bea?”
“Yes-s-s-s-s?”
“Did you spike my drink?”
She looked at me, then placed both of her index fingers to her lips to shush me, or herself. Honestly, she looked ridiculous. “I did… yep. I-I wanted to s-s-s-spend the night with y-y-y-
