Hands hurt.
With a whimper, I pick myself up off the floor of the bathroom, dizzy when I get on my feet. How did I get here?
I go to turn the AC off, but it’s not on. Why is it so cold in here?
Maybe I have a fever and need medicine.
I check the bottle on the table and see that I’m out. I’ll have to walk across the street to the pharmacy to buy more, and justthe thought of doing that is exhausting. I want to lie down and sleep. Get under the covers to warm up. But if I have a fever, I’ll need both ibuprofen and acetaminophen for the pain and to get the fever down. I think I still have some money in my purse.
Twenty-five hundred dollars doesn’t go far in this town.
Making sure I have my key card for the room, I push outside and sigh in relief as the hot midday sun hits my face. The warmth feels so good, I can’t help but tip my face up to the sun.
I’m sweaty as I make my way across the street and into the store. I shiver when I walk inside because it’s so cold in here. As quickly as I can, I find the medicine I need and grab a couple of bottles of water before making my way to the counter.
“Natasha?”
I frown into my purse, trying to find my cash. I should have enough for this.Please let me have enough.
“That’s twenty-six ninety-five.”
“Okay.” I pull all the bills I have out of my purse and lay them on the counter, feeling embarrassed when the cashier has to unwad them to count them. I just don’t have the energy, and my hands arekilling me.
“Natasha.”
I blink and turn at the sound of my name, and then feel the blood leave my face as terror takes up residence in my stomach.
“No.” I shake my head, trying to keep the nausea at bay, and back away. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Hey.” Elliott looks concerned, and he doesn’t make a move toward me, he just holds his hand up like he’s trying to approach an injured kitten. “Natasha, you don’t look good.”
“You don’t have enough money,” the cashier says.
Immediately, Elliott takes his wallet out and taps his card, paying for my medicine.
“You don’t have to pay for the junkies,” she says to Elliott.
“She’s not a motherfucking junkie. She’s sick. She’s buyingmedicinefor fuck’s sake.”
Elliott shakes his head and offers me the plastic bag full of my things. He tries to hand me my cash as well, but I can’t bring myself to get close enough to him as terror continues to race through my body.
Will he hurt me? Will he tell Julian where to find me?
“Okay, I’ll put your money in here.” He drops the cash into the bag and then passes it to me.
I snatch it out of his hands and back away. God, I’m so dizzy. And so cold.
“Did you hurt your wrist?” He asks, gesturing to the brace on my left hand.
“Doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Please don’t tell your dad you saw me. Please just forget this, okay?”
“Natasha, I can help?—”
“No!” Panicked, I keep backing away, shaking my head and trembling. “No. I’ll scream. I’ll call the police.”
“Christ.” Elliott’s frowning at me, and I leave as fast as I can, looking back to make sure he’s not following me.
I don’t see him.
