The drink. My heart plummets into my gut.
The apple margarita.
I slap my hand against the railing of the stairs, trying to suck air in and out of my shriveling lungs. I’m on the verge of having a panic attack because I know what happens next. I have never been slipped a drug. This is what I get for being negligent and stupid. But it doesn’t make it any less wrong.
Hot tears stream down my face, my body weakening at a rapid pace to give itself over to whatever Xavier put in my drink. My knees are about to give out when a hand splays across my lower back, keeping me from falling backward.
Maybe someone has found me, and they’ll help. That thought drifts away with more of my awareness when another hand wraps around my forearm.
They pull me upward. My head lolls back, my watery eyes locking onto a pair of green ones under the shadow of a hood as my heartbeat slows. I try to study their face but my damn eyes won’t focus.
Another arm in a black sleeve worms its way around my stomach. And a fourth hand, a gloved hand, caresses the side of my face tenderly before covering my mouth. I try to inhale air into my lungs, but the leather glove transforms the sound into a muffled moan.
There are too many hands on me.
But I’m too tired to move.
And just as the little sliver of my mind that’s still coherent screams at me to fight, I go limp, and darkness drags me under.
SIX | TARYN
Ishould’ve known that sometimes, the smallest things turn out to be the most venomous. They sink their teeth in, releasing a deadly poison that either hits your nervous system and bloodstream rapidly or causes a slow and agonizing death.
It’s been four days, and Cedar Creek has already punctured my skin with its fangs, killing me quickly.
My eyes flutter, the dark room around me distorting into a hectic ombre of deep grays and blacks.
I groan, using the little strength I can muster to flip myself from my back onto my side. Reaching up to rub my fingers in circular motions on my temple, I struggle to alleviate the throbbing in my skull.
Maybe I’m not dead.Hmm.
My hand glides across the surface I’m on, caressing a soft material. The scent of fresh cotton linens with a hint of lavender tickles my nose. What is that other smell? Paint, maybe? The blend of fragrances brings more consciousness through the haze the more I try to breathe in and out calmly.
I fully peel open my heavy eyelids, rapidly jerking my body to an upright position. My body sinks into the plush bed, the room around me coming into focus.
What the hell happened last night?
More importantly, where am I?
The early morning dawn casts long fingers of shadows across the room from the panel of arched windows in both the front and back of the room. A small amount of light reflects off gold Victorian embellishments and trim around the A-frame ceiling.
One of the navy-blue walls has a dark walnut dresser pushed up against it and a matching vanity with a large mirror. On another side of the room, across from the bed, are a cream-colored accent chair and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf—but because of the tilt of the A-frame, the shelf doesn’t fit against the ceiling seamlessly. On the other side of that is a railing that looks like it leads down to some stairs.
My eyes bounce around, taking in my surroundings.
This has to be a dream.
I toss the comforter off my legs, releasing a breath, relieved I’m still fully clothed in what I wore to Crocks. My head swims, trying to recollect everything that happened last night. The last thing I can remember without any disturbance is when I walked out of Crocks after he told me he wasn’t hiring.
Swinging my legs over the queen bed with a navy duvet and pillows to match the room’s aesthetic, I rub my eyes, still laden with sleep. God, my body aches. Pushing past the pain, my feet contact the cold wood floor. Standing up, I scan the room again, my eyes landing on the bedside table with a lamp, a small old-fashioned clock, and a glass of water; next to it, a fresh bowl of fruit.
But what’s outside the window has my blood freezing, turning to sharp icicles in my veins. I wrap my hands around my upper arms, advancing one slow step at a time.
All I see is sky.
A sky of dawn tormented by dark rolling clouds.
Closing my eyes and inhaling a deep breath, I fail to keep my weak body from shaking.
