Chapter Thirty-Five
I couldn’t do anything as he rushed to load me in the back seat of his car, my hands and feet both cable tied. Eric jumped into the driver’s seat and reversed so quickly down the driveway and out onto the road, that my body was flung about like a rag doll. I was numb, I didn’t even feel anything as my head was smashed against the door and my neck bent unnaturally. My breathing was shallow and my vision a little hazy, my brain working overtime to figure out what the hell was going on.
I licked my lips, they were dry and cracked. “Wh… y?” I managed to ask even as the air around me seemed to settle and all the noises became dull.
I could hear him chuckle. “We’ll talk soon, Annabelle, you should be feeling pretty sleepy in a minute. I put enough ‘Manic’ in there just to make you feel good, but I also added a sedative.” It was like he was far away, or talking to me through a tunnel. I was feeling sleepy and drained, but I could also feel the ‘Manic’ setting in, and strangely, I felt kind of good. It was like I was dozing on the most comfortable bed, the noise of the world blocked out.
Just peace in my mind.
“I’m not really good with this type of thing… dosages and stuff. That was always Peter’s forte. So you better hope that if you fall asleep…” he laughed, “… that you wake up again.”
I heard his words as the darkness began to consume me, my eyelids falling closed.
What I couldn’t figure out, was why.
I was just too numb to care.
I groaned as I rolled over, my head still feeling like it was in the clouds but my body working a little better. My eyes sprung open when I heard Eric’s voice.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” he said. He sounded much clearer now, much more in focus.
I twisted my body around, realizing the restraints were gone from my body and tried to push myself up on the bed. My arms and legs were shaky, and the second I was vertical, I had to squeeze my lips together and cover my mouth to stop myself from vomiting.
“Here.” A trash can was shoved in front of my face just in time, the contents of my stomach expelling out and sloshing against the sides.
There was sweat on my brow, and I felt cold like I’d been placed in a freezer. I started to shiver uncontrollably, and while my body was freaking out, my brain was beginning to slowly but surely piece things together.
“H... how long h… have I been o… out?” I asked, hugging the smelly can close to my body, knowing now that I was probably nowhere near done.
Eric smiled at me from his seat across the room on a large cream three piece sofa, drink in hand. It seemed like we were in some kind of hotel room. And not just your typical ‘criminal kidnaps girl and stays in some rundown motel’ type of room. Nope, not Eric. This room was beautiful.
I was sitting in the center of what had to be a California king bed, with extravagant floral lamps strategically placed on both of the night stands. The bed looked straight out to a floor to ceiling window, with a view of the city.
What city?
I wasn’t sure, my brain still unable to compute information like it should have.
“About four hours, give or take,” he finally answered, drawing my eyes back to him.
Four hours?
I could be anywhere.
That, and I was sure now what was happening. I was coming down, having withdrawals.
The dosage of ‘Manic’ that he gave me wasn’t a strong one. Peter often toyed with higher and lower milligrams in order to see how long the effects would last before I was craving more.
I could already feel it happening, my body wanted more. The noise was back, a low hum in my ears, one that I’d managed to escape for so many years. My stomach lurched, and I shoved my face back in the tin can, cringing at the sound of more vomiting splashing inside.
“I don’t understand,” I said calmly as I wiped the back of my mouth with my arm.
I forced in deep breaths through my nose, and out through my mouth, trying to calm my body and my mind as it screamed out for something to kill the pain.
“You’re not as smart as I gave you credit for, Annabelle,” Eric taunted, standing up and walking toward the large windows. He looked out over the city, pressing his hand to the glass. “Peter really did love you, you know.”
My instant reaction was to scoff. “Hard to believe.”
My body shuddered. I wanted to move and get under the blankets of the bed, the chill in my skin almost too much to bear. He turned to face me. Gone was the look of understanding and empathy that I felt like I’d always received from him. His face now twisted into this man I didn’t recognize, his features cold and uncaring.