Page 78 of One Night Years Ago

This isn’t normal. I can hear him chewing.

It felt like all her senses were on overdrive. She stood up to get a fresh glass of water and had to hold on to the table for support as the world turned upside down.

“I feel …”

“I bet you do, Sheriff, I bet you do.” Dr. Ford said, calmly finishing up the slice of lemon cake.

Her tongue felt thick. It was difficult to get the words out. “I need water,” she finally rasped, still holding on to the kitchen table for support.

“I’d get you a glass, but it’s really not going to help. The drugs I gave you are meant to relax you. It’ll be easier if you let them take over. I promise.”

“Drugs?” she croaked.

“In the water. Just a few drops, when you went to get the butter. Really, Sheriff, I expected you to be a lot more cautious, after what you’ve been through.”

I’m going to throw up.

“I wouldn’t bother, Sheriff.” She realized she might have spoken out loud. “It’s gone straight into your system. You won’t be able to get rid of it now.”

He stepped around her and calmly washed and dried his water glass and his plate, putting them back in the cabinet. He then came back to the table and set out a separate plate with some crumbs. “There, that’s done. Let’s move back out into the living room and have a chat, shall we?”

He took her hand and pulled her along. Her mind screamed, but her body responded listlessly, like a marionette.

“Why don’t you sit on the couch while we talk? I want you to be comfortable, angel.”

Angel. The whispered word made her feel like spiders were crawling all over her skin. He’d called her that before, as he forced himself inside her, all those years ago.

A loud noise penetrated her foggy, panic-ridden mind. It took her a while to figure out that it was her doorbell.

When did my doorbell get so loud?

Faster than a snake, Dr. Ford went to the window.

“It’s that asshole, Fowler,” he whispered.

Natalie felt a moment of hope.

I’ll shout—

Dr. Ford came right up to her, his nose inches away from hers. “If you let him in, I will slice his balls off and make you feed them to him. I’m a doctor. I can make that happen.” In his hand he waved a large knife.

“That’s not my knife.”

“No, angel. I brought that from home. I didn’t peg you for a cook, you see,” he grinned.

He touched the point of the knife to her thumb and watched as a drop of blood appeared. Natalie felt detached from the ruby stain. She knew it was her thumb, but it was as if she were watching the scene on TV.

“Do you understand me?” Dr. Ford said, shaking her by the top of her arms. “Get rid of him if you want him to live.”

He propelled her towards the door, standing to the side where he wouldn’t be seen.

Natalie felt a strange sense of calm. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to Hunter. She opened the door a crack.

“Hunter? Hi,” she said slowly, speaking through the crack. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

“Natalie. Is everything okay?” Hunter was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He looked relaxed and impossibly attractive.

She nodded, but didn’t open the door. She saw his gray gaze change to one of surprise.