Page 1 of Her Double Desire

Chapter 1

Veronica

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Something is rattling.

It's an awful sound that peels away the cushion of warm sleep around my mind. Groaning, I move my mouth, tasting something worse than rotten lemons. As wild as my night was, I know I didn't eat any spoiled fruit.

Unless that flavored raspberry vodka Sonya kept forcing down my throat counts,I think, chuckling, then wincing as the sound irritates my growing headache.

Carefully, I crack my eyes open. The source of the rattling noise—a circular fan—oscillates in front of me on a dresser. I roll onto my side and regret it immediately. Every inch of me, toe to top, aches.

Pushing myself onto one elbow, I hang my head over the edge of the bed I'm apparently lying on. I don't remember a bed—I barely remember anything after Sonya and I stumbled out of our third bar.

What happened last night, why do I hurt so much?

Grabbing my forehead, I smooth my dark hair away and stare at the blackness behind my eyelids.Just breathe. No need to rush.Or is there? Dammit, I hate being so confused. Drinking myself into a blackout isn't my normal routine. But yesterday, I had a perfectly good justification.

Ugh, I don't want to think about that.

All I want is a glass of cold water. Maybe some heavy, salty breakfast; those are perfect for hangovers. Is this a hotel? I hope so. I really, really don't want to go far to find food.

Sighing, I run my nails through my hair, tucking it behind my ears as I gradually sit up. I take in the light yellow walls, the open bathroom door to my right, and a chestnut door in front of me. If this is a hotel, it's a cheap one; I don't see a mini-fridge or even an electric kettle. Too bad, I have a special love for instant coffee.

Tucking my chin, I notice I'm wearing a long, white, silky shirt. A quick check and I know I've got nothing on under it but the neon pink panties I wore last night.

A pit grows in my belly.Did I undress myself?As I start to look around, hoping to spot my outfit, my hair tickles my cheek. I brush it away, my hand drifting over my neck. Something there crinkles like plastic. “What the hell?” I whisper out loud.

I gingerly trace the thing on my throat. It wraps entirely around from under my chin to my nape. My heart thrums with rising panic.Is this a bandage? Did I get hurt last night?

Adrenaline pushes away some of my nausea. Quickly I stumble from the bed, gripping the door frame of the bathroom. I spot a small mirror above the porcelain sink. Hurriedly I step closer, gripping the edges of the round basin.

The whites of my eyes are pale pink, like I've been rubbing sand in my face. My hair hangs in various tangles and loops—I need to brush it badly. But I'm most concerned about the thick, tan bandage clinging to my throat.

Hot fear races through my veins. The gaps in my memory are becoming more foreboding. Whatever happened last night, it can't be good.

Grimacing, I tug the bandage gently. As I peel it away, images flash through my brain, each of them more gruesome than the last. But of all the things I expect to find, I never predicted... this.

Curving, delicate letters, black as night, are inked into my skin.

Is that... a tattoo?

It swirls around my whole throat, high enough that I worry a turtle-neck won't cover it. Studying it with mounting unease, I'm unable to make sense of it.What is this design?My fingertips follow the hard angle of a letter 'T' and that's when it clicks. Of course it's hard to understand—it's a written word in a mirror being reflected backwards.

I squint and focus.P... r... o...

A buzzing rises in my ears as my mouth dries up.

No. Holy shit.

My tattoo... is a declaration.

'Property of Stone House.'

Trembling, I brush my fingers along the new ink. No matter how many times I outline the name, it doesn't ring any bells. What the hell is Stone House? Did I pay someone to do this to me last night?If this was Sonya's idea, I'm going to murder her.

Something 'thuds' downstairs, causing me to realize thereisa downstairs.

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