Chapter 18 The taxi driver took Willard and Grace back to her place. As they turned the corner, someone suddenly covered her nose.

Grace panicked. She struggled for a moment, but then she heard Sloan's voice.

"I warned you that if you kept making me upset, I would hand you over to someone, but this time, I'm not giving you to just anyone. Hendricks has been eager to be with you for a while. Get ready tonight - he's quite skilled in bed. I doubt you'll be able to handle him."

In a daze, Grace felt a liquid being forced into her. She had no idea what it was, but her body instantly grew hot, and the world around her became a blur.

One thought raced through her mind - if she made it through this, Sloan would regret it.

She was thrown into a room, her head hitting the side painfully. Briefly, she regained some clarity, but a stronger wave of confusion quickly drowned it out.

The car stopped outside a famous hotel, and Grace was tossed into a room. Hendricks and Sloan were both close friends of Yancey. Sloan had been in love with Alice for a long time, and Hendricks had desired Grace for ages.

So when Sloan called Hendricks, he thought it was a joke. He had no idea Sloan was actually bringing Grace to him.

The two men stood by the bed, looking at Grace, who was now barely conscious. Hendricks felt a surge of heat rise to his head.

"Sloan, are you sure Yancey won't be upset if I sleep with her?" he asked.

Sloan chuckled and dialed Yancey's number.

Yancey picked up quickly. "Sloan, what's going on?"

"Yancey, Hendricks is interested in Grace. If he sleeps with her, you won't mind, right?"

"Of course, I won't mind. I've been irritated by her for a while now."

Sloan smirked at Grace's dazed form on the bed. "Good to know. We're still good friends."

After ending the call, he patted Hendricks on the shoulder.

"He said it's fine, so go ahead and enjoy. Make sure you get lots of pictures and videos. I want her videos spread all over Drawville by tomorrow!"

Unable to contain himself, Hendricks pushed Sloan out. "Don't worry, I'll take plenty. Don't come back until tomorrow afternoon!" One night wasn't enough for him. He planned to have fun with her all day tomorrow. He shut the door and immediately lunged toward the bed. "Grace, I finally have you where I want you."

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Grace saw his shadow loom over her. Instinctively, she grabbed the nearby lamp and slammed it into him.

Hendricks didn't expect her to still have strength in her body. The sharp corner of the lamp hit his forehead, and blood started to flow.

"You must have a death wish!" he barked. He then raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.

Her cheek stung with pain, but the shock made her instantly more alert. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She grabbed the lamp again and swung it at him.

Hendricks had been indulging in booze and pleasure for years, and his body had already been worn down. The first hit had drained his strength, and now, after the second, he staggered.

Grace got off the bed, her head spinning. She saw the lamp shattered on the floor, sharp pieces scattered everywhere.

She grabbed a piece, ignoring the blood dripping from her palm, and squeezed it with all her might. Only pain could bring her back to her senses.

She quickly straightened her clothes, grabbed her phone, and made a call.

The drug effects were too strong, and though she briefly woke up, it only lasted a few seconds.

She wasn't sure whom she had called - maybe Joanne, maybe Dan, or perhaps Tim.

When the call connected, she quickly gave the hotel address before stumbling toward the door with blurry vision.

Her head surged with pain as she reached the corner of the first floor. She wanted to rip off all her clothes.

The sound of wheels echoed, and a clear voice asked, "Can you speak?"

Grace tried to focus, her vision swimming as she made out Ethan's figure. Instinctively, she took a step back, but soon, everything went black.

She was so hot that her body felt like a desert, desperate for water or any form of relief.

She had no idea how she ended up in the room. Her hands were out of control, touching everything around her.

Ethan's wheelchair was expensive and cold to the touch.

She collapsed onto the bed, her face buried in her hands. Her fingers brushed against something cool, like a lifeline for a drowning person.

Ethan remained in his wheelchair, watching her with concern. He observed her desperate expression as if she was in dire need of help.