“Sounds great, thanks.”
“See you then.”
I watch him walk away then turn back toward the hotel and make a mad dash to the elevators. I’m nearly there when the first wave of pain slams into me. I double over, my gut feeling as though someone drove a dagger into it.
Not that I’ve ever been stabbed, but it’s the only description I can think of that might be close enough to the way I’m actually feeling. The lights above the elevator show it will be a bit before it reaches me. Tears burn my eyes as my stomach heaves, threatening to send its contents from dinner back up.
Finally, what feels like hours later, the elevator dings, and the doors open.
“Are you all right, lass?” An older man wearing a cap steps off with his wife on his arm.
“Fine, thanks. One too many beers; you know how it goes.”
“That I do. Get some sleep, and don’t discount the hair of the dog,” he says with a wink as I rush past him and onto the elevator. I press the door close button over and over again, trying my damnedest to not puke all over the elevator.
One.
Two.
Three.
Another wave of pain slams into me, and I grip the bar alongside the back of the elevator cart to keep myself upright. Sweat slicks my body, making my hair wet and forcing the fabric of my dress to cling to me like a second skin.
The doors open, and I rush out, doubled over as I try to run to my room. I can’t even bring myself to care if someone sees me, though the hall is empty as I dash down to my room. I fall to my knees in front, unable to stand any longer as my stomach heaves again. Bile burns my throat, but I force it back down as I unlock the door and crawl inside, straight to the bathroom.
I barely make it before everything in my stomach comes right back up and into the toilet bowl before me. It burns, and my body shakes.Why did I let myself get talked into it? I knew better.I throw up again, and I know this is just the start of what will probably last a few days.
Though, I suppose, if I die tomorrow, then at least I lived a little tonight. Isn’t that what this trip was for? To live before I die?
* * *
His body gleamswith sweat as he swings a monstrous blade. It glints beneath the blistering sun just before meeting its mark and tearing through the abdomen of another man.
His opponent falls, and blood soaks the ground. Then, the brutal man turns to me—and smiles.
“Are you well?”
“I am.” My response is lacking all empathy for the dead and all shock over the murder. It makes no sense because inside—inside I’m screaming.
The man moves closer to me, and I am helpless to do anything but stare at his brutally handsome face. Not that I would run at his approach, even if I could.
There is something about him— He reaches up and cups my cheek, letting his rough thumb caress the skin just below my ear. “Nothing will harm you, Ember. Not so long as I breathe.”
My own breath catches, and a tear slips from my eyes because I know he’s wrong.
I’m already hurt, and there’s nothing that anyone can do about it.
* * *
Breathing raggedly,I wake, completely naked on my bed. The air conditioner is set as cold as I can get it, and still, my body might as well be aflame. I can barely move; my muscles still ache from the two hours it took my stomach to realize there was nothing left to purge.
My dream plays on repeat. The brutal savage had taken the same form as the man I saw outside Dr. Alexander’s office—the same one I saw tonight at dinner. Both of those things, combined with what I just dreamt, tell me that the man was not real.
He’s little more than a figment of my dying mind. How sad is that? Not wanting to focus too much on the why’s of the whole thing, I close my eyes and whimper.
Outside, cars pass by, and I focus on the sounds of them rather than the pain still lingering in my gut. The air in this room is stifling already, more so since I know I’ll be trapped in here while my body recovers. Needing some fresh air while I can get it, I force myself to roll to my side since my stomach muscles are too sore to sit straight up.
Perched on the bedside table, the clock reads eleven-forty-seven. Because this is nothing new to me, I know I have maybe another hour before my stomach needs to empty again—even though there’s nothing left in it. But it will still be like that, every hour on the hour, for the next two or three days.