93: Red Bites

Fenella’s POV

"Oh fuck! Laird!"

I quickly squatted down and shook Laird's body. His condition was pitiful.

Laird was asleep in the bathtub, both his hands tightly hugging a nearly empty, large bottle of whisky on his chest. His body was folded in an uncomfortable position. I pressed the back of my hand to Laird's forehead, and his body temperature felt hot.

"Laird, wake up."

I took the whisky bottle from Laird's embrace and placed it on the sink table. The blond man seemed deeply asleep with steady breathing. I put all my strength in my hands to lift and pull Laird out of the bathtub.

My hands pulled on Laird's body and supported his shoulders. He was still too heavy for me to drag alone.

I groaned and lifted his limp body enough to hug his waist tightly. He murmured and mumbled for a moment, but I truly did my best to get him out of the bathtub. His feverish body could worsen, considering he hadn't even turned on the room heater.

"Ugh, come on," I groaned loudly. I gasped for breath