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I stretched to grab the note, to scrunch it and toss it at the nailed-shut window, but a sharp pain near the bend of my elbow stopped me.
“Ahh,” I hissed. My fingers prodded the area, nails squeezing and clutching at the metal stem embedded in my skin. I pulled it out, squeaking as I did. A bead of blood formed as I flicked the cause to the floor with my dirty clothes.
A rush of vomit moved to my lips. Struggling legs climbed from the bed, the carpet looking further away than it was, and my balance was gone as I wobbled into the bathroom. I didn’t make it to the sink, vomiting all down my breasts with the realization that I’d been drugged again. I fell into the shower. I leaned back against the sweaty tiles, struggling with the lever that would have water pelting on me. Eventually, I succeeded. Cold water blasted me in the chest, and the heaviness returned.
And the room went dark.
I blinked in the room, the water harsh on my eyes as I lay at the bottom of the shower. A noise had woken me, and my chattering teeth were no doubt the culprit. My heavy chest still ached, and my body was pink from the icy blast of the cold shower.
I crawled out, avoiding the small bit of vomit that had fallen from my mouth in my rush to get in there.
I wrapped myself in another towel, old, worn cotton encasing me, and I sat with my back against the doorframe.
The room was lit by moonlight and my lamp that I couldn’t remember turning on.
How long had I been out of it?
What had happened?
Why did my heart hurt so much?
Why did my body feel so useless?
Big boots appeared in my view, the leather-looking material creasing as the toes bent. They moved from one corner to my bed. My eyes traveled up denim to a sweatshirt with the hood up. The man who wore it had his back to me.
But I had no doubts.
The slight bandy-legged walk, the height, the way his head tilted to the side—the same way that the most vicious masked stalkers did, in the best horror movies.
It was Remi.
“Remi...?” I coughed.
I attempted to stand while feeling too dizzy and too weak. Everything hurt, from my jaw as it moved to talk, to my back, resting against the frame. I fell to the tiles.
His back straightened.
He placed a sheet of paper on my pillow.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, holding my jaw as he turned to me.
“I needed to see you.”
“And you have. Multiple times. You’ve been in my room, leaving notes and presents for weeks.”
“There’s a new bear on the bed for you. I think I’m getting closer.”
His knees bent, encroaching on my personal space, and I examined his face and the feline smile on his lips. Shining piercings glimmered in the low light, as did the aid in his right ear that wasn’t there before.
He scooped me from the ground, and while most of me wanted to beat him senselessly until he dropped me, a part of me just wanted to curl up in his arms and pretend he was what I needed him to be.
Someone to save me.
I didn’t protest as he placed me on the bed.
“What’s wrong with you?” He brushed the hair from my face, sitting at my side.
“I don’t feel well, and Cedric has decided to starve me now, too.” I wouldn’t mention the drugs…he’d go looking for them.
