It’s never going to be my favorite memory, you know?
Being...abducted.
And now that the adrenaline is fading, I’m starting to feel the pain. A dull throb in my side that’s growing sharper by the second. I look down—
My rescuer sharply draws his breath as we both see it at the same time: the bloodstain spreading like a virus across my side, turning my cream-colored cardigan to crimson.
Whoa.
“You were shot,” he grates out.
I...was?
“Why didn’t you tell me you were shot?”
Because I didn’t know either.
Until now.
“I...”
I don’t know why that’s the only thing I’m capable of saying.
Don’t know why all I can do is stare up at him.
“I...”
Think I’m going to faint.
The world tilts sideways, and the last thing I see is his face—beautiful, furious, almost worried—before everything goes black.
****
WHEN I WAKE UP AGAIN, I feel blessedly numb.
But also completely confused.
This isn’t a hospital. There are no beeping machines, no antiseptic smell, no nurses bustling in and out. Instead, I’m lying in what looks like the most expensive hotel suite I’ve ever seen: silk sheets, velvet drapes, crown molding on the ceiling, a crystal chandelier casting soft prisms across the walls.
But it can’t be a hotel....since no hotel would let someone unconscious check in.
Which means...
This must be someone’s house.
Maybe even...his?
I try to piece together how I got here. The last thing I remember is blood spreading across my cardigan, his face swimming above me, and then...
Where am I, really?
I don’t realize I’ve spoken my thought out loud until—
“My home.”
I hearhim.
His voice causing me to turn my head—slowly, of course, because I justknowthe world will start spinning again with the tiniest mistake.
