Chapter 42 - The Whisky-soaked Morning (1/2)

What wakes him up is the banshee scream.

In the periphery of his mind, he hears a woman screaming—faintly, as though she's coming from far away. He tries to open his eyes, but fails at the first attempt. His eyelids seem stuck together, like somebody glued them. He musters the will to open them, actually ”telling” his eyelids to ”let go.” And when finally he gets a glimpse of the morning light, the screams hit him like a slap in the face.

”What did you do to me?” Claire is sitting upright on the bed, her arms on her ċhėst, glaring at him. Her hair is disheveled, and she smells like she's been stewing in whisky. ”Oh my God, did you take advantage of me?”

Gabriel Tan tries to open his mouth, but pain streaks through his head even before he utters the first word.

”How could you do this to me, Gabriel?” Claire sobs. ”You've taken advantage of a helpless girl! I was knocked out! How could you?”

”Aw come on,” Gabriel mutters, grimacing in pain. ”This is not how it looks like.”

”I trusted you, Mister Tan!” Claire continues sobbing. ”I thought you were a good person! But now this! Did you hire me just to…To…To have your way with my body?”

Despite the gravity of the moment, and his throbbing headache, Gabriel giggles at that. ”Come on, Miss Monteverde, are you being serious?”

Claire looks offended. ”What? Do you think this is a small matter? How dare you take my vɨrġɨnɨtƴ and laugh about it—”

”What? You mean you're still a vɨrġɨn?”

”I WAS a vɨrġɨn, until you took it!”

Gabriel starts giggling, then the giggles turn into full-blown laughter. He's bending over, holding his stomach, trying to contain it.

Claire looks on, confused. ”What's happening? Are you crazy?”

It takes a few minutes more until Gabriel's laughter dies down. There are actually tears in his eyes. ”I'm sorry,” he says. ”You said you were a vɨrġɨn. Which means you're still a vɨrġɨn, Miss Monteverde, because NOTHING happened last night.”

”Then why—” Claire looks at her stained blouse that reeks of liquor. It's partially unbuttoned. ”Why does it look like something happened?”

”I can explain,” Gabriel says, trying to sit up. He grimaces when the pain hits him in the head again. ”It's like this, Miss Monteverde. You were—” Gabriel stops. He suddenly realizes Claire does not remember much anything about last night. It's the roofies drug, which causes a certain level of amnesia. She probably doesn't remember the last parts of her dinner with Jake Magno. She doesn't even have an idea of all that drama last night. He feels she doesn't have to be burdened by knowing about what almost happened—yet, at some point, he must tell her the truth about all the dangers that come with this job. But maybe later. Soon.

”You fainted at the office,” he finally says. ”We brought you here. Our doctor checked you, and you're fine. Then I was having a little nightcap with the whisky when I had an accident.”

”What kind of accident?”

”I sort of… stumbled over you and lost consciousness.”

”Why? Are you sick? Did someone drug you?”