“Then pain . . . killers,” he said. “A bottle . . . full.”
The older woman disappeared.
“Thanks, Leigh,” the blonde called after her.
He was so cold. And naked under cheap, scratchy sheets. He could feel heat coming from the blanket above him so he shouldn’t be this cold. “Did you two . . . drug me?”
“What?No.”
“Kid . . . nap me?”
“Absolutely not. We’re trying to help you.”
“By taking off . . . my clothes?”
She stiffened. “We had to. I saw you through my binoculars, out in the ocean, swimming in your clothing. I brought you here in my boat but now you have hypothermia from being in the water so long. We needed to get you dry and warm, so we took off your wet clothes. But rest assured, I didn’t see anything except your clavicles.”
His clavicles? “My chest . . . and head . . .”
“You have bruised ribs and a head injury.”
“Only . . . an idiot would swim . . . in their clothes. Why . . . would I do that?”
“I have no idea.”
He made a sound of frustration. “I’m going to be . . . disgusted with myself if it turns out . . . I’m an idiot.”
“What do you remember?”
He had a vague memory of sea and desperation, of praying to God and the sense that God was with him, keeping his head above water.
Leigh placed a glass of water, two Advil, and a cup of coffee on the bedside table.
TwoAdvil? He struggled against a wave of despair. “I’m going to need more medicine.”
“When the EMT gets here, we’ll give you more if he says you can have more,” the blonde answered.
Was this hell? Was he going to spend eternity with wooden statue heads, a woman trying to pour tea down his throat, and not enough medicine to kill the pain?
He wanted all of it gone. The pain most of all. But also this place and these people.
The blonde helped him wash down the Advil with water, then brought the coffee to his lips. The scent of it hit his nose. This time, he cooperated and drank. The coffee was subpar, but better than tea.
Leigh took her tea to the chair in the corner. She sat with her shoulders back, one foot braced on the knee of the opposite leg. He hoped this was her house because she seemed calmer and more normal than the blonde. “Where . . . am I?”
“In my home,” the blonde said.
Great.
“On Islehaven Island, off the coast of Maine,” Leigh added.
“Islehaven?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t . . . know it.”
“Can you explain how you ended up in the water?” Leigh asked. “Take your time. I know it’s hard to think when your body’s that cold.”
