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She tenses at the mention of him. “Just the usual daily reminder that he’s around.”
Dr. Skeller nods in sympathy with pinched eyebrows. “Your father and Police Chief Tanaka will get to the bottom of it. I have faith in them.”
“Do you know Tanaka well?” Gemma asks, grimacing as she mentions his name. “Does he strike you as peculiar?”
Dr. Skeller frowns, studying her intently. “He does. Why? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” Gemma lies and then gulps down her tea. “Just a weird guy.”
“Hmm,” Dr. Skeller hums. “Perhaps keep an eye on him and don’t allow yourself to ever be alone with him.”
She nods emphatically. “Don’t worry. He creeps me out so bad.”
I yawn again. “What time will everyone be here? Do you have coffee? The caffeine in this tea isn’t cutting it.”
Dr. Skeller beams at me.
Talk about creepy.
I blink several times and realize they’ve been talking, but I totally nodded off. Gemma glowers at me like I’m embarrassing her. Hell, I’m embarrassing myself.
With the heel of my palm, I rub at one eye, trying to shake the tiredness out of my bones.
What the hell?
I feel loopy and tired as fuck.
Alarm bells start ringing, but my brain can’t seem to comprehend why. Gemma stands shakily and Dr. Skeller grabs her arm to keep her from falling.
“I, uh, need to use the restroom,” Gemma utters. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
Dr. Skeller shows her to the restroom and then strides back over to me. The room tilts from side to side and my stomach roils.
Am I getting sick?
I think I need to call my dads.
Something’s wrong.
I hear a loud thud come from the bathroom. Gemma. Without consideration, I burst to my feet. The room spins and then I stumble several steps, tripping over my feet that feel weighted down. Like an ancient tree that’s been hacked through with a chainsaw, I crash to the ground, smacking my cheek hard on the wood floor.
Numbness slides through my veins and the exhaustion washes over me like a warm wave, claiming me in spotty darkness.
Don’t go to sleep, Two.
Don’t.
Something’s really, really wrong.
Despite barely clinging to consciousness, I try to move my hand down to my pocket to retrieve my phone. I don’t get very far. My fingers twitch against the hardwood and a small, defeated grunt escapes me.
I’m roused by hands patting me down and then my phone is pulled from my pocket.
Yes, I need that.
Give it to me, please.
“You won’t be needing this,” the deep, sinister voice croons. He also manages to find my keys and gives them a jingling shake. “Or these. Just go to sleep. Let the medicine do its job. No need to fight it. This battle is over, young man, and you have lost.”
