What was that about?
As she starts to turn away, Nash tugs a finger in the side of her apron to stop her from leaving.
“I heard you know my name now. Will you tell me yours?” he asks, flashing her a broad, charming grin. “Would only be fair.”
“I already forgot it, so you’re fine,” she replies, her tone disinterested, eliciting a deep belly laugh from Hunter. I have to cough to stop myself from laughing too. “Let go… please,” she adds, cautiously glancing at Tallulah, who is busy serving the table next to ours.
It’s clear she’s playing hard to get, a tactic that probably wouldn’t work with me, but my little brother is an idiot, which he is about to confirm with the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “Come on, pretty girl. Don’t be like that. Can I see you again?” Nash asks, tugging on her apron in an attempt to draw her closer.
I roll my eyes so hard they almost ache.
Nash’s usual hit-it-and-quit-it mentality appears to be thrown out the window with this girl only because she doesn’t chase after him like his quick fucks usually do.
“You could’ve told me you’re only twenty-five,” she hisses out, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Huh.
“How old are you then?” Nash asks, his grin growing wider.
“Too fucking old for you,” she mutters angrily.
“Oh, I do have a thing for cougars,” Nash teases, his tone playful. Hunter gives Nash a slap on the back of his head, causing him to release her apron and rub the spot where he was hit. “Damn, bro,” Nash mutters.
“Sorry, he does have manners. He just tends to forget them occasionally,” Hunter apologizes on Nash’s behalf.
“Your food will be ready in a few minutes,” is her only reply before she turns away. As I watch her retreat to place our orders, her spine straight as a board, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to her than I first assumed.
SEVEN
The cold,sterile hallway stretches out before me, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a harsh, unyielding glow. From time to time, they flicker, and eerie shadows shake on the white walls.
The grip on my arms is ironclad, fingers digging into my flesh as two male nurses drag me toward a door at the end of the hallway. The soft murmur of voices echo in the distance, sounds of screams, but it all fades as the door looms closer.
It’s heavy metal, the kind you’d see in a prison. As they push it open, a rush of cold air hits me. The room beyond is devoid of any warmth or comfort. Stark white walls, a single bed in the center, and not a window in sight. Panic bubbles up inside me, my heart racing, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“No! Please, don’t,” I whimper, trying to pull away, but their grip only tightens.
They force me onto the bed, the cold surface biting into my nearly naked back. They only let me wear a hospital gown, panties, and light blue grippy socks. I kick and thrash, trying to free myself, but it’s no use. One of the nurses holds my arms down while the other works on strapping my wrists to the bed with thick leather restraints.
The one holding me down leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re just another crazy bitch. No one’s going to hear you scream in here.”
His words sink in, and I feel sick, bile rising in my throat.
The leather is cold and unyielding, biting into my skin as they pull the restraints tight. Tears blur my vision as they finish securing my arms.
“Stop! Please!” I plead, my voice choked with fear. But they don’t listen. They move to my ankles, strapping them down just as tightly. Every movement becomes restricted, every ounce of freedom taken away.My heart is hammering in my chest.
“Why are you doing this?” I sob, tears streaming down my face.
“You brought this on yourself, lunatic,” one of them utters bitterly.
It’s like the room is closing in on me.The panic, the fear, it’s overwhelming.
The nurses step back, taking a moment to admire their handiwork. Their eyes on me make my skin crawl. Then, without another word, they turn and head for the door.
The light switch clicks, a sound as final as the closing of a tomb, leaving me alone in the cold darkness. Panic grips my throat, squeezing tighter with every heartbeat.
A gasp escapesme as I sit up in bed, my heart racing, my breath shallow after the nightmare. I pull my wrists to my chest, rubbing them, trying to calm myself down.
